16. Chapter 16
SEAN
NO. MY HAIR ISN'T JUST blue. It's electric blue, with spikes that look like I stuck my finger in a socket while dipping my toe in water. And with these high, sharp cheekbones of mine, I look like—
Holy fuck, I look like my worst nightmare: a K-pop idol.
"Do you… not like it?" Rich's smile falters.
I force my face to relax. This isn't Rich's fault. I told him to surprise me, and damn, did he deliver.
"It's definitely different," I say. The hair actually looks well-executed. The color is even, the cut itself is clean. It's just so aggressively not me that I feel like I'm looking at a stranger. "No, it's good. You did a great job. Thanks. Exactly what I asked for."
Rich's brightness returns. "See? I knew you could pull it off. Some guys would look ridiculous, but with your bone structure? Total rockstar vibes."
I pay at the front desk, adding a generous tip because Rich actually did accomplish the mission. I look nothing like Alan Miller now. Nothing like myself, either, but that's collateral damage.
Warm air hits me as I exit and turn in the direction of Londyn's apartment.
I'm trying not to think about the blue hair, but I must be concentrating too hard and sending out beacons because my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Sienna's name flashes on the screen with a text, like she psychically sensed something changed in my life. She always had perfect, or bad, timing.
Sienna: Dinner tonight? There's a cool place by the pier I think you'll like.
She thinks I'm still in San Francisco. Damn, I forgot to tell them I left.
Well, that creates a fresh wave of guilt inside me.
Me: Sorry. Had to leave town. Next time. Promise.
The phone immediately starts ringing in my hand and Sienna's picture lights up the screen. I'm trying to decline the video call when my thumb betrays me, accidentally answering instead.
Goddamnit!
Her face appears, then freezes. "Oh. My…" Her eyes slowly blow out wider before she finishes her thought. "...God."
Her pure and utter surprise must send out distress flares because suddenly, the billionaire appears behind her, leaning into frame. Both of them stare at me, speechless.
Of course they'd find me like this. Of course. The universe isn't subtle with its jokes.
I pull up the timer on my smart watch and meet their stunned expressions with dryness. "You have two minutes. Get it out of your system." I tap the start button. "Go."
Sienna bites her bottom lip, visibly fighting for control. "So it finally happened? BTS called? You must be so thrilled!"
Declan's smirk deepens. "Do you need help with your audition tape? Your dance moves must be rusty."
They dissolve into giggles that make them look like teenagers instead of a filthy rich man and his artist wife. I roll my eyes, which only seems to encourage them.
"Bold color choice for someone who owns seventeen variations of the same black t-shirt," Declan says, wiping an actual tear from his eye.
"Are you going by a single-letter name now? Just 'S'?" Sienna adds.
The barbs continue, overlapping as they feed off each other's energy. Despite myself, a laugh escapes when Sienna suggests I change my security title to 'Bodyguard of the Soul.'
The timer beeps, saving what remains of my dignity.
"Time's up," I announce. "Now you can never make any joke about me like that ever again. Especially the K-pop shit."
"Wait!" Sienna holds up a finger. "I have one more really good one!"
"Then tell it to your husband."
Their laughter finally settles. As our joy passes, Sienna's eyes take on that concerned look I've been avoiding for months.
"Seriously, how could you leave without telling us?"
The guilt resurfaces. Not as a gentle tide but as a full underwater surge, dragging me down with unexpected force. "It was a sudden job I had to take. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Declan's eyebrows drift upward, a silent question mark. "You said you weren't taking more jobs. Otherwise, I'd have you come work for me again."
"You don't need me," I deflect, shifting my weight as passing pedestrians weave around me.
"Of course we do."
"Only for dinner dates where I'm the third wheel." My mouth immediately clamps shut as I regret those words. That particular minefield wasn't supposed to see daylight. It's this blue hair throwing me completely off my game.
Sienna's voice takes on the tone of a caring mom. "Come on. You're not a third wheel. We love having you—"
"I have to get back to work," I cut in, uncomfortable with where this is headed. "Sorry again I didn't tell you. I'll be here another month at least."
"Where is 'here' exactly?" Declan asks.
"Manhattan."
I can see the questions forming behind their eyes, along with the worry and curiosity. But thankfully, they don't push.
"Keep in touch," Sienna says. "Promise me."
"I promise."
Declan nods. "Let me know if you need anything." The same offer he always extends. I appreciate the gesture, but he knows I'm too stubborn to take him up on that. Only if it were life and death. Maybe.
We say our goodbyes, and I pocket my phone, feeling scraped raw as if someone took sandpaper to emotions I prefer to keep buried. That hollow feeling is back, the one I can't quite name. Not quite loneliness, not quite regret, but somewhere in the territory between them.
I stuff my hands in my pockets and start the walk back to Londyn's place, hyper-aware of the stares my new hair is attracting. A guy with a skateboard gives me an appreciative nod. A woman with purple hair and a nose ring flashes me a smile of solidarity.
Great. I have new people now?
I guess I should—
My mind empties as I notice a man up ahead wearing a navy baseball cap. Sure, there are plenty of people in this city who wear those hats, but this is the same guy from the other night. I'm sure of it.
He's waiting for the bus and doesn't notice me. I pass behind his bench, trying to get a better look at his face. He ducks his head, obscuring my view. Then a taxi arrives and he climbs in. The taxi picked him up at the bus stop? A little strange but not a big cause for concern.
I sigh. The guy could simply live in the neighborhood. And wearing a baseball cap and crossing paths with strangers a few times isn't a crime. I've run into a few neighborhood locals more than once already.
I run a hand through my hair. Maybe this guy is a false alarm.
I continue on. As I turn a corner and approach Londyn's building, I wonder what she'll think of the hair. Will she laugh? Will the blue spikes be enough to stop her from seeing Alan Miller when she looks at me?
That's suddenly important in a way I hadn't anticipated; I want her to see me . Not someone from her past, not a potential threat, not even just her security detail. I need her to see me for the man I am.