Invasion (Alien Invasion, #1)

by Sean Platt

“Then postpone it.” “You want to see me so bad, why don’t you postpone?” “I can’t postpone. Lila has a thing. Trevor has … I don’t know … another thing.” “Now I know why you got custody of the kids. You’re so on top of things.” Meyer rolled his eyes at the empty penthouse. Heather’s dry, biting wit had made her career, and it’s what had attracted him to her in the first place. He still loved Heather plenty, but too

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one.” “Oh, ‘the other one.’ I remember my Other One. I wore pink chiffon. My date was Jimmy Breslin, and he could only get this powder-blue tux that smelled like cats had peed on it. Or were still peeing on it, like it had hidden compartments in the tux for urinating cats to do their thing. He was a total dork, but I gave him head afterward anyway, because, you know,

slightly more serious. “But Telly booked this months in—” “Telly works for you, Heather.” “You’re right. That’s why I hired a manager and give him, like, half my income. Because I want to not do what he says and make my own schedule. What’s the big deal, Meyer? You’ll be back.” Meyer had walked to the window and was looking out across Central Park. The weather was pleasant, and he considered going out onto the porch, but the wind looked rough. The roof terrace

took a beat before replying. He didn’t want to admit how much he’d been looking forward to seeing her. Besides, telling Heather about the ayahuasca ceremony he’d already booked with the shaman (and paid for in full) seemed like a jinx. You weren’t supposed to plan surprises for your ex-wife — even drug-related surprises. They both understood that, but the way Meyer sneaked around behind Piper’s back made

like you need to go those specific dates anyway, if you’re taking the Gulfstream. Just go out for Monday instead of the whole weekend. If you’d cleared this with me in advance, it’d be different, but I’m booked, sweetie. When we were getting started working together, would you have liked it if I’d just bailed on something to run off and screw my ex?”

— ayahuasca wasn’t the kind of thing you got addicted to. And he could certainly afford it. Not seeing Heather felt like the bigger hit. He hated to admit how much he missed her. Of course he loved Piper, but if there were such things as soul mates, Heather was his. Too bad she was so goddamned annoying. “I can also meet you in Vail,” she said. “I have a thing in Denver in, like, two months.

he couldn’t quite articulate, but that he always glimpsed in those ceremonies with the shaman — had begun to feel very pressing in recent months. He needed that place finished, and then he needed to hightail his family out there to make it their new primary residence. Because something was on the horizon. He felt surer as weeks became months. Every day without his Colorado house and the bunker beneath it was another day Meyer felt at loose ends, as if he’d misplaced his keys with no way to find them. “Then I’ll meet you