Page 3 of Survivor (A Space Pearl’s Treat #2)

Lucy

“For the love of God, don’t let him make pizza!”

I lowered my gaze from the holographic image, pressing my lips together to keep from smiling.

Pearl, the famous chef and founder of Space Pearl’s, engaged in an ongoing feud with the Framaddi chef Effutial she’d hired for the restaurant.

Although touted throughout the cosmos for her alien-Earth fusion cuisine, she sometimes faced translation hurdles, such as Effutial misunderstanding that, despite its name, a pizza pie shouldn’t be sweet.

I’d spent the last hour engrossed in a holo-comn with Pearl, meticulously going over the menu and ironing out the final details for the grand opening of the new Space Pearls location on the Hanze Erreinua space station.

The holographic interface flickered gently as we discussed tantalizing dishes and ensured every detail was perfect for the grand opening.

“I tasted his lasagna the other day. It was really good,” I offered. It tasted just like the Earth version, save for being a rather lovely shade of blue. The fruits from the rajce tree, which stood in for tomatoes, imparted a cerulean color.

“That’s good to hear. Just keep pizza off the menu till I can work with him and.

...” Pearl halted abruptly mid-sentence, her eyes widening in surprise as her hand darted to her mouth to stifle the unexpected burp that escaped.

She appeared so utterly appalled that I stifled a laugh, the corners of my mouth twitching at the sight of her mortified expression.

“Sorry,” she muttered, her voice tinged with a hint of weariness. Her hand slipped over her softly rounded belly, as if offering it as an excuse. “It’s just another one of the many wonderful side effects of pregnancy,” she added, her tone laced with both irony and affection for her changing body.

“No worries,” I assured her, waving away her discomfort with a flick of my wrist. “You’d be surprised how homesick one gets for human sounds .”

“Human sounds,” Pearl snorted with a roll of her dark blue eyes. “Hang on, I’ll probably need to fart in a minute or two.”

I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late to stifle the sudden, loud burst of laughter.

“Seriously, though.” Her eyes, the color of a stormy ocean, fixed on me intently. “How are you? It can’t be easy being the only human on the space station.”

“I’m fine,” I assured her with a warm smile.

“Everyone has been so kind and welcoming. It’s been fun learning about all the different species.

” At the moment, the space station was home to over a dozen species, each more fascinating than the last. Although most of them saw me as something of an oddity, I couldn’t complain about the treatment I’d received. Everyone had been perfectly lovely.

“But don’t you ever get a little afraid of being there all by yourself?”

“No,” I laughed. “Jala and Praxxan sent a dozen guards to keep me safe. I think most here are more afraid of me.” Truthfully, there wasn’t much that scared me. A lifetime of being treated like a pincushion and dying made it hard to fear anything.

I had died that night on the hospital roof.

So, when I awoke on the spaceship feeling more alive and invigorated than ever before, I assumed I'd made it to heaven.

That illusion shattered the moment the six-titted feline aliens entered, their sleek fur and luminescent eyes far from angelic, as was their conversation about selling me at auction that I overheard thanks to a translator implant in my brain.

Just as it dawned on me that aliens had abducted me, a stunning group of males known as the Vaktaire came to my rescue.

They whisked me away to a breathtaking planet called Tau Ceti, a sanctuary for abducted humans.

On Tau Ceti, I found work at a quaint eatery named Miss Rachel’s Earth Eats , where I learned the ins and outs of the restaurant business .

Rachel tried to teach me to cook, but I was more inclined toward the business side of things, especially marketing and customer relations.

I’d been on Tau Ceti almost two years when I heard about an opportunity on the Ardeese Valout space station—a new restaurant opened by a recent abductee and famous Earth chef.

I knew of Pearl. The Food Channel was one of the few networks my hospital TV got without a ton of static. When the opportunity arose to work at Space Pearls, I jumped at the chance.

The sterile walls of a hospital and looming death confined my first life.

But now, cured by the wonders of alien medical technology, I’d swore to live life to the fullest, savoring every moment.

Part of that vow meant accepting the job as manager of the new Space Pearl’s location, even if that meant I was alone in my humanness.

It took another hour to settle on the menu, with Pearl repeatedly cautioning me about Effutial going rogue.

He was a Framaddi, a species turned to the creative and inclined to stray from the recipe.

Sometimes, the results were good, and others.

.. well, a pizza should never taste like a coconut cream pie.

The restaurant was set to open its doors in two months.

Pearl and her mate Jutuk would be here, along with Jala and her mate Praxxan.

We’d run out of reservations for the event weeks ago.

No small part due to the scheduling of a concert by Isabella Rayne.

Izzy and I formed a friendship during our time working at the Ardeese Valout space station.

I couldn’t wait to see her again, along with her mate, Tarrick.

Pearl finally signed off after we scheduled another call in a couple of days. We had the final supply shipment to review, vendor contracts to complete, and server and kitchen staff to hire and schedule. Both of us wanted the grand opening to go off without a hitch.

Adjusting my position on the bar stool, I turned to glance at the dining area, pride enveloping my heart.

I had poured my heart and soul into meticulously ensuring every detail was just right.

The restaurant was a vibrant homage to Earth diners from the fifties or sixties, with retro charm enhanced by a kaleidoscope of colors.

Copies of vintage Earth posters adorned the walls, and the polished chrome fixtures gleamed under the soft glow of pendant lights.

The spacious layout offered ample seating, comfortably accommodating up to two hundred patrons at a time.

Without the faint buzzing of the holo-comm, serene silence enveloped the restaurant, occasionally punctuated by Effutial’s sporadic clanging of pots or his muttered curse which, through my translator, came out as sugarbeans .

Even though I couldn’t see them, I knew the ever-vigilant guards stood steadfast at the front and rear entrances.

Their dedication was unwavering, if not a little ridiculous.

The guards never left their posts, not even at night when I climbed the stairs to my second- floor apartment.

They refused to step inside for a meal, always eating quickly at their assigned station.

I knew they had to sleep sometime but had yet to figure out when.

As far as bodyguards went, they were unparalleled.

Aside from Effutial, no one had come within ten feet of me without at least two of them flanking my side.

Which made it even more surprising when I heard the entry chime and glanced up to see a lone figure standing inside the doorway.

Goodness!

I’d been on the space station for almost three months and had never seen an alien that looked like him. My guards were made up of Vaktaire and Aljani warriors, each a fine specimen of alien maleness, but this guy....

Goodness!

He was beautiful.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he possessed essentially humanoid features except for the distinctive pointed ears reminiscent of an elf.

His skin was sleek and, upon closer inspection, revealed an intricate mosaic of thousands of tiny scales that shimmered subtly, creating a mesmerizing texture across his body.

His coloring was a glossy black, broken only by an exquisite swathe of color stretching from his left shoulder to mid-thigh.

The vibrant band displayed the most breathtaking fusion of purple and teal, each hue blending seamlessly into the next in a dazzling display.

His hair was thick and so dark purple that it appeared almost black under the low lights cut in a shaggy style that framed his face with an unruly elegance.

His eyes were strikingly bright teal, each one featuring a narrow black slit down the center akin to a cat’s, adding an otherworldly intensity to his gaze.

I saw his lips move, the words rumbling through the translator implanted in my head, but even so, his voice held a rich, deep timber that made goosebumps break out on my skin.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, and this time, the words made purchase in my brain.

A strange question, I thought, but perhaps he felt it necessary to ask since I was basically staring at him like a horny teenager.

“Hi.” I composed myself, plastering a bright smile on my face.

Shit! Why hadn’t I donned something better than the overalls I’d made from the fabric replicator and run a brush through my hair this morning before pulling it atop my head?

After having chemo-hair most of my life, I struggled sometimes with the thick auburn locks that now adorned my head.

“I’m sorry, the restaurant isn’t open yet. ”

He had to be a customer. By now, I knew the faces of all my vendors, and Pearl would have mentioned if I should expect someone new.

I watched as his vibrant gaze flickered across the deserted restaurant, his eyes scanning the room with a sharp intensity that seemed to capture every detail.

His muscles appeared to tense slightly, as if preparing for an unseen challenge.

He wore a simple outfit—sleek leather pants that clung to his frame and a sleeveless vest that revealed the powerful strength of his arms.

When his gaze finally settled on my face, it felt as if a current of electricity surged through every nerve ending in my body. “I am not here for food.”

“Oh!” I glanced toward the doorway, but there was still no sign of the guards. Surely, they wouldn’t allow some alien serial killer to waltz in. They barely let me go to the bathroom alone. Maybe he was a new vendor. “If not food, then what can I help you with?”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and a tingling sensation skittered across my skin, like a whisper of wind carrying a hint of something ominous.

“You.” The deep voice that sounded like bourbon on gravel murmured, making it all the sexier. “I’m here for you.”