“It’s just a job,” Byte replied.
“No, it’s not,” Ivy argued. “And if you think he’s going out tonight because of a few files you set up, then you’re delusional.”
“It was our deal,” Byte responded. “Besides, I’m the one who set the terms. I needed a date, someone who wouldn’t raise any questions, and he needed help tracking his brother. It was a win-win situation.”
“Oh, it’s a win-win situation all right.” Voodoo winked.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter because I don’t date, especially not someone who thinks I’m a criminal.”
“You are a criminal,” Ivy reminded her.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t have to think I am.”
“Just so you know,” Voodoo said. “None of that made sense. Now, tell me about your hair. You said you’re wearing a wig. I think you should change it permanently.”
“Not happening.”
“I kind of agree with Voodoo. The reason you were found was because of the blue hair,” Aria joined in.
“And it’s part of your profile for the Feds. They wouldn’t know it’s you if you had a normal hair color,” Ivy added.
“I told you already. I’m not changing my hair color.”
“When you’re ready, you can tell us why you chose blue.” Ivy nodded and shared a look with the other women. There was a story behind the color. There was always a story behind everything Byte did.
As much as Byte didn’t want to explain herself, these were her friends, and she needed to open up, even if it was tiny bits at a time.
“Chloe, the girl from our foster home,” Byte started.
“We know who she is,” Aria said, trying to spare Byte from having to relive that nightmare.
“Right. Well, one year she wanted to go as the puppy from Blue’s Clues. It was a little immature for her age, but foster children are generally the extreme. They are either extremely childlike, or they are extremely older. I was the latter; Chloe was the former. Anyway, Russell said no one could go trick-or-treating. That crushed Chloe’s heart. I was barely thirteen; I had no idea how to handle the emotional trauma Chloe was undergoing. So one day after school, I stopped off at a dollar store. They had those clip-on synthetic hairpieces. I found some blue ones and bought four of them, along with a child’s makeup kit. I was always stashing money aside. We weren’t given lunch money, but were on the free lunch program. I would sell my lunch to the football players. They were always hungry. So anyway, I surprised her that night with the hair clips and I took the makeup and drew on a nose and whiskers. It was one of those moments when you knew you were doing the right thing. Chloe said it was the happiest time in her life. We didn’t get many of those, so I’m not changing my hair. The blue is a visible reminder of Chloe.”
“You were a good big sister,” Aria said, reaching over and giving Byte a side hug.
“After I left the home, I hadn’t changed my appearance. But when Chloe killed herself, well, I knew I had to honor her memory the best way I could. That’s why Karma was created, and why I wear blue.”
“It’s a beautiful tribute. I can see why you want to keep it,” Ivy said. “But it does still put a target on your back.”
“There’s always been a target there. That’s not going to change with a box of hair dye. Now, can we eat already?”
The subject was dropped and after eating, the girls began transforming the hacker into a vixen.
“If Hunter doesn’t ravish you after this, then the man is an idiot,” Voodoo stated and put down her mascara wand.
Byte turned and looked at the woman staring back at her. She was a complete stranger. If Hunter fell for this version, then there wouldn’t be another date. This was a persona, not her. Just like when she opted to dress for their date, the same rule applied.
Looking at the closed bedroom door covered with candy wrappers, she repeated Sotiria S. from New Jersey’s words.
Be fearlessly authentic.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
There were no words when Byte opened the door to her apartment. Hunter stood there staring—no, ogling the dark beauty.
Silky black hair was pinned in some intricate braid, leaving her neck and lower back exposed. The red dress, left him wanting to see what was hidden. The gown’s bodice tied around her neck like a halter, leaving the vastness of her back bare. The shorter length in the front showcased a pair of beautiful legs, only lengthened with the three-inch red stilettos.
And those lips he had fantasized about daily were no longer blue, but were the color of blood. The primal urges that raced through his body would become embarrassing if he didn’t look away.