by DK Cassidy
I was naive to think Jupzi would be different just because he was an alien. Men, human and alien alike, are all the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but they apparently all have the same one-track, unfaithful mind. They all break your heart.
I plunk myself down on my couch, feeling sorry for myself. Is this what I left Earth for? Jaxiolis, the planet he’s from, is just as full of bed hoppers as my last home planet—a fact I’d learned after we started seeing each other. I should have known to break up with him right then. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time. Heck, I might not have wasted my time coming to the Moon at all. But what’s done is done. And if I want to have a future on this rock, I need to put Jupzi—and men in general—behind me and focus on my new endeavor.
I pick up the book I threw at Jupzi after locking the door, hoping I didn’t tear any pages. Time to get on my computer and do some work.
It’s been six months since I became a private investigator. What I lack in experience, I make up for in moxie. If a client asks me to find out if their partner is cheating on them, I do it. Of course, I don’t tell anyone about my own failure to recognize the signs with Jupzi. I know it’s difficult to notice the failings of someone you’re close to, but who knows if a client will see it that way. I keep telling myself that it took being cheated on to become good at catching cheaters. Making lemonade out of lemons and all that.
Money is still pretty tight. The majority of my clients aren’t exactly loaded. Most of them can barely pay a deposit. They come to me with their problems and offer to pay what they can. Being new, I accept what I can get.
For instance, yesterday a guy from Mars offered to pay me with zantz. He claims it’s a precious stone from his planet. It looks like coal to me, but oh well. Maybe it will come in handy one day? Who knows where this business will take me.
Another recent client offered me a month’s supply of maxxolonium in exchange for my services. I turned that one down. The drug is highly addictive and illegal. It wasn’t the illegal part that bothered me. Hell, I’ve used my share of drugs. But that shit is nasty. The high is supposed to be better than anything, but after just one dose, you’re addicted. Crazy addicted. Plus, it’s really easy to overdose on the stuff. I don’t ever want to see that. Someone once described it to me as watching a person’s face exploding. No, thank you. I’ll stay away from that stuff and the people who peddle it.
“Judy!” I yell, leaning back in my chair. “Where are you?”
“I’m here, I’m here!” She pokes her head in, radiant in her bright yellow dress and matching shoes. “No need to yell. What do you need?”
“Just checking to see if there are any messages from someone, anyone, looking for me to solve a case. You know, that thing I do for money?”
She snorts. “You know I’d tell you if you did. It’s been slow the last few weeks. Everywhere I go I tell people what you do. I’m always checking to see if there’s some work out there, but so far no luck.”
Pacing helps me think, so I get up from my desk and walk back and forth in front of my rickety little desk, trying not to hyperventilate with worry. Uni-chits, it’s always about uni-chits.
“Thanks, Judy, I know you’re trying for me. It’s a little tight, so I might be a couple days late with your paycheck.” I look at her sheepishly. “Hope that’s okay. If not, I’ll try to hawk something so I can get you some cash.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’m rich.” She shrugs at me like I’m ridiculous. “I can go a few days without being paid. You know I’d do this for free. But you really do need a new case. Maybe we should put an ad in the newspaper. Or have me pass out flyers somewhere.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve thought about an ad, but I don’t think I can afford one and still eat. So far eating wins, but maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll change my mind about that.”
Judy walks over to the coffee maker and fills two cups. Grabbing a handful of sugar packets she’s stolen from the local coffee shop, she empties four of them into one of the cups and hands it to me.
“Don’t know how you stay so skinny with all the sugar you drink in your coffee, girl,” she says. “I drink mine black, and yet I keep getting bigger and bigger.” She runs her hands down her hips, which to me look no bigger than they were months ago. “It’s just not fair. A man loves curves, but I look like a fat teenage boy.”
“As long as you don’t cut that long hair, no one’s going to mistake you for a boy. Too bad you don’t have any boobs. If I could, I’d give you some of mine. They’re always getting in the way.”
Judy smirks at me mischievously. “Hey, if I could have your knockers, and girl you have some to spare, I’d take them right now.” She looks up as if daydreaming. “I wonder what it’s like to not be flat as a board.”
I laugh. I can’t remember a time when we weren’t friends. It feels as if I’ve always known her. We grew up together and have been best friends since the first day we met in grade school. Poor Judy. I wish she’d meet someone and settle down.
You’re probably wondering where my office is located. You know, in case you want to hire me? You won’t find me on Earth, that’s for sure. A couple years back, I couldn’t afford to live in New York. There were some other cities I looked at, but the rent was high everywhere. After I realized that, I took a one-way economy flight to the Moon. Judy ended up following me. She said she was tired of New York, but I knew she wanted to be near me, which made me happy. It’s nice to move to a new place with a friend.
When she made her offer to get some office space from her father, it was too good to pass up. Fortunately, Judy’s father’s generosity has lasted much longer than she originally said it would.
It’s not so bad on the Moon. We’re not all jumping around in space suits. The only time you need one of the bulky space suits is when you travel by foot or in an open vehicle, from dome to dome. A hundred years ago, the Earth’s United Government built huge domes over sections of the surface. And because the United States claimed rights to the Moon before the formation of the United Government, they got naming rights for the cities. Unfortunately, whoever was put in charge of that didn’t have much of an imagination, and they just tacked on “New” to a bunch of existing cities. Voila. A mirror of the States.
I live in New New York, NNY for short. Since I can’t live in the original city, this is the next best thing. The other choices were New Pittsburg, New Chicago, New Denver, and New Seattle. As if the names weren’t enough, the cities are exact replicas of the originals. As long as you don’t look up and see the domes, you’d think you were on Earth. But maybe that was the point.
My office is located in a dilapidated part of New New York. Most of the buildings are shuttered, the streets full of garbage, and the only business being conducted is illegal—except for me, of course. Drug dealers, human and droid, peddle their wares while the police force looks the other way, their blue pockets bulging with bribes. Every floor of my building is shitty. Not that I’m complaining, since free is free. This is the norm in this part of town. All I care about at this point in my life is establishing my client base. My office is minuscule, but there’s enough room for me to conduct my business.
I am expecting a new client at nine a.m., an ungodly time for a night owl like me. His name, Mr. Owens, isn’t familiar to me. I put on my sexiest outfit. My black leather miniskirt hugs my well-rounded bottom, and my white button-up blouse, unbuttoned one button too many, shows the world I have two ample breasts. I learned from the start that taking advantage of my natural assets brings in business. Helps me get and retain clients. Yes, they’re natural. The girls also help with questioning suspects. Don’t judge me for using what I have. It’s my body, and I’ll do what I want with it. Plus it’s fun to fool people into thinking I’m a ditzy broad. Once they talk to me, they realize first impressions aren’t everything. That look on their faces never gets old.
Promptly at nine, in walks someone I recognize and loathe. He didn’t bother to knock, so Judy has n
o idea he’s my new client. The sneaky bastard obviously gave Judy a fake name to make his appointment. I choose to ignore him and make him wait for a few moments. Finally, he can’t take it anymore.
“Hey, Lily,” he says. “I’ve, uh, been waiting in front of your desk for five full minutes, and you haven’t even acknowledged my presence. What’s a guy need to do to get you to speak to me? I used to be able to get your attention?”
I sit at my desk and continue to swipe my tablet. It’s Jupzi. He was, and still is, a total prick. I have to admit I’m curious about what he wants, but it’s fun to make him fume. He’s an impatient sort, so I know it’s driving him crazy.
“Just another minute,” I say. “I’m almost finished reading the news. Have you heard of it?”
“Pardon?”
“Do you read? I’m asking because the entire time we were together, I don’t remember you ever reading anything.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then read this, Jupzi.” I point to a sign on my desk.
“Lily Lovegrove, Private Detective.”
“Great. And does it say anywhere on my sign ‘Ex-Girlfriend for Hire?’”
“N—”
I hold up my hand. “Don’t answer that. Okay, you’re lucky I’m available right now. I charge fifty uni-chits per hour, plus expenses. That includes meals. And outfits if I think I need them. Can you afford that? Last I heard, you broke up with your moneybags girlfriend. You know, the one you were having sex with when we were together.”
He answers with a smirk.
I desperately need the cash, so being choosy isn’t an option, but Jupzi doesn’t know that. A little fun never hurt anyone. Stuffing my pride away, I know I’ll take the case. But I’ll make him earn my services.
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
Turns out, karma does exist. My ex is actually worried one of his girlfriends is cheating on him. I resist the urge to laugh in his face. Insecurity isn’t an emotion he normally displays, so I’m suspicious. Plus, why come to me over this issue? Surely he’s not that big of a jackass, is he? It’s time to ask more probing questions.
“Why do you care if one of your meal tickets is cheating on you? There’s always another one ready to jump in bed with you. You’ve never had a shortage of women, from any planet, ready to bed you.”
I watch his face to find out if he’s going to lie to me.
“It’s true I wouldn’t normally care, but this woman, she’s special. You’re not going to want to hear this, but she might be the one.”
“You mean ‘the one’ for this month?” I can’t help being sarcastic; it feels great after what he put me through.
“I should feel wounded, but I admit I was a jerk to you,” says Jupzi with what almost passes for sincerity.
The case is straightforward. Follow his girlfriend for five days and report back. Easy money. I don’t care about him anymore, and I owe it to Judy to take this one. I get the pertinent facts for the case—her name, description, and address—and I start a new file.
Judy keeps me supplied with fake IDs for my investigations. Her brother’s best friend is a cop, and somehow she persuaded her brother to get me some confiscated fake IDs from the property room. For this case, I will be Monica Jones. It’s one of my favorite aliases, although I have no idea why. Guess I just like the name.
I want to see Jennifer Spion, Jupzi’s girlfriend, up close, but I’m not in the mood for a stakeout. She lives in a posh building on Park Avenue. A friend of mine just so happens to work at the front desk and gets me a temporary position there. She owes me, since I was the one who told her about an open position there six months ago. I’d noticed a sign for the job during my original snoop session of Jupzi. Since then, I’ve come to know the place well, at least by reputation—it’s a popular building for cheaters.
The uniform there is my choice of a little black dress. I buy the most expensive one I can find and charge it to Jupzi. Can’t wait for him to see the bill.
On the first day of surveillance, I watch Jennifer walk in with a much younger man who stares into her eyes like a well-paid gigolo. He wears a very expensive suit and a gold bracelet. No wonder Jupzi doesn’t want to lose her; it seems she takes good care of her boyfriends.
Day two, Jennifer walks in with another man. This time he’s about her age, early thirties. I admire her energy. Judging by the epic levels of touchy feely between them, there’s no question about what they are about to do. There’s a lot of ass grabbing going on.
At this point I know it’s unfair to keep charging Jupzi. I already know she’s cheating on him, but this is my chance for a little revenge. Three more days and I’ll call it quits. It’s hands down the easiest money I’ve made since I started my business. It feels good to know I’ll be able to pay Judy her salary.
What happens next is unexpected.
Chapter Three
My routine at the start of my stakeout workday is simple: unlock the office, start the coffee, and change into my uniform. My miniskirt and blouse aren’t my everyday style. I tend to be a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. I roll out of bed and just go. Did I tell you I hate mornings? Dressed in sweats, hair in a ponytail, and no makeup (yet), I usually get ready for work at the office. On the occasion that I do need to get up in the a.m., I run to my building, regardless of the weather or the amount of sleep I got the previous night. I need the run to work to wake up and think.
To my surprise, when I approach the door to my office, there are two males waiting for me. One is Jupzi. The other I don’t know, but judging by how they look at each other, they’re not together. This is the morning I am going to report to him about Jennifer. It’s time to give Jupzi the heartbreaking news that he isn’t the only one in sweet little Jen’s life. I can hardly contain my excitement about telling him. But now I have another potential client waiting for me. I debate making Jupzi wait, piling on more humiliation for him.
The other male is a human. And what a human he is. Six feet tall, thick black hair, and piercing sapphire-blue eyes. He defines the term hunk. I smile at him then turn to the door.
“Give me a couple of minutes to change—I wasn’t expecting clients this early—and then I’ll let both of you in.”
“Why change?” says the other man. “You look beautiful in what you’re wearing.”
Oh boy, another charmer like Jupzi. I’d better be careful.
I smile at him politely. “All the same, I prefer to be dressed up for work. I am a professional, after all.”
I walk to my closet and spend a couple of minutes deciding between my two blouses. Red or white? It shouldn’t matter, but I want to look extra nice this morning to make Jupzi regret cheating and to have the mystery man notice me. Yes, I can be vain sometimes. Or most of the time. Whatever. Next, I let my hair down and brush my thick mane until it’s glossy.
I take a quick look around at my messy office and sigh. There isn’t time to clean, and Judy isn’t due for another half an hour. I shuffle some papers around, make an attempt to dust, and open the shades. That will have to do. I’d start the coffee, but I’ve never mastered that finicky machine; it only responds to Judy. Now I’m ready for whatever happens next.
Ten minutes pass before I open the door for the two. I half expect them to be gone, but there they are, still waiting for me. Both of them hurry into my office, expecting to get my attention first. I like it. Time to mess with Jupzi’s self-esteem.
“Jupzi, I should talk to this new client first, so you need to go back out to the waiting room. We’ll probably be no more than thirty minutes. Or if you like, you could come back later in the day. Whichever works best for you is fine with me.”
Boy, saying that felt great. Both men are confused by my statement but for different reasons. Then Jupzi’s face flashes with anger.
“How dare you,” he says. “I’ve already paid you a deposit. I deserve my results now, not later. I will not be disrespected. Especially by a woman like you.”
He�
��s shaking his blue fist, trying to intimidate me. It’s not going to work. I’m standing my ground on this. And after that crack about being a woman, I know I’ll take my sweet time.
“Well, that’s the way it’s going to be. Either you leave my office and wait in the waiting room or come back later, but I need to give my full attention to this man here. It would be rude to keep this gentleman waiting too long.”
“Oh, so I’m not a gentleman? Not worthy of any politeness on your part?”
“You know the answer to that, Jupzi. Now choose.”
Jupzi storms out of the office and slams the door. I turn to the stranger in front of me and give him my most alluring smile. He doesn’t return it, and instead he gives me an odd look. Now what?
“I appreciate you letting me go first, but I think you’ve made a huge mistake. I’m going to tell the other guy to come back. I can wait.”
Before I can stop him, the man leaves my office. I fume at his impertinence and wonder why he thought he could tell me what to do. He is quickly losing points in my view. A minute later, Jupzi is back.
“At least someone has respect for me,” says Jupzi, looking pleased with himself.
I wonder what the other man said to him. He must have somehow appealed to Jupzi’s inflated sense of self-worth.
“Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with. Have a seat, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
He takes his time getting settled into the only chair other than mine. Reveling in the moment. He knows me well enough to realize it won’t last long. I turn away and watch a taxi and a police hovercraft go by. I need to appear distracted until Jupzi is ready. Giving him my full attention is exactly what he wants, so of course I do the opposite.
At last I hear him stop moving, so I turn around and pull out my tablet and access his file. Before I tell him anything, I present him with my bill.