Page 8 of Tempting Tessa

Was it too much to hope that she wanted him?

Not as a friend. At least not only as one.

Fantasy, that. She was older, wiser, and saw him as nothing but a kid. Jessie’s little brother. He’d never shake that label.

Not that he wanted to. Jessie had been his hero growing up. They’d survived so much together—losing their parents and being shuffled around from one foster home to another. Jessie had made sure they were together more than they were apart, but there’d been times when even she couldn’t override the system. She’d gotten good at running away, though. Running away and finding him.

Throughout it all, she’d brought him books, games, and food. She’d insisted he read philosophy, poetry, and history. Most of it he hated, but he would’ve done anything to make his sister proud.

Now, he wished he could thank her. Tell her how much he appreciated what she’d done for them, for him. Just to see her one more time, put his arms around her.

Sorina finished with his hair but refused to spin him around so he could see himself in her mirror. “Da?” she said to Tessa, gesturing at him with her dagger-like nails. “Better?”

Tessa eyeballed him. “He looks… Older. Smarter. I’ll get him some glasses.”

He tried to pivot in the seat, but Sorina blocked him, picking up a different pair of scissors. “Now that disgusting beard.”

He threw up a hand to block her. “I need to keep some facial hair. It’s part of my disguise.”

“Your disguise is blown after the embassy riots,” Tessa told him. To the stylist, she said, “Trim it down to a ghost layer. Keep it neat.”

“As you wish,” the woman replied.

He flinched as she went to work again, her sharp scissors barely missing the end of his nose.

“Why don’t I get a say in this?” he asked.

“You’re the one who let your beard grow out like a mountain man,” Tessa said, leaning against the checkout counter with her arms crossed, unamused.

“Still lucky I don’t need my garden shears,” Sorina said, not hiding her amusement as she whacked away at his cheeks and chin.

The minutes dragged as he forced himself to sit still. Sorina traded the scissors for clippers, the buzz filling his ears while Tessa regarded him without sympathy.

When the stylist finally stepped back, she rotated the chair, and Tommy blinked at himself. It was a shocking change to see the sides of his head trimmed close with only a few longer locks left on top. His beard was nothing more than a shadow on his jaw.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. He hadn’t looked this clean and upstanding since he’d posed for his State Department photo.

“You look like a respectable human being again,” Tessa said, tilting her head as she examined him.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I look like me again. If they catch me on camera, facial rec will ID me.”

Tessa went behind a screen, and he heard her rummaging through drawers. She returned with a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses and a small tote. When she opened the tote, he saw it contained a myriad of makeup and silicon facial features—eyebrows, cheek ridges, and chins. In the right hands, his face could be transformed.

Apparently, Tessa had the skills to do it. “Just some subtle tweaks,” she said, winking at him. “If we change your brow bone, lower your earlobes, and thicken your cheekbones, that should be enough to fool most facial rec systems. You’ll wear a cap and these glasses, too.”

By the time she finished, he looked like himself—except not. She’d used makeup to blend in the artificial enhancements and added wrinkles, making him look at least ten years older.

She put away the case, tipped Sorina handsomely, and signaled him to stop gawking at himself in the mirror. “Time for your photo shoot.”

Returning to the souvenir shop, Tommy stood where he was told to let the man snap his picture. Vasile angled the camera so that Tessa could peer at the photo.

She examined it with a critical eye. “You clean up well,” she said. Vasile had her veil wrapped and ready to go. She scooped it up. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved her off. “Get out of here so I can work.”

The rain had stopped, leaving the air damp and heavy. Tessa checked her watch. “Lunch?”

“Is it safe to be seen with me?”

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