Until It's You (3 page)

“You got it, boss,” she said.

Just couldn't help herself. Before he could respond, she turned into the bedroom to get ready to head out.

Kristina walked into the Walgreens entrance half an hour later. It was fairly new, constructed just two years before on a lot that used to belong to an independent pizza place. She remembered the dirty old brick building advertising
THE CHEESIEST DEEP DISH IN THE WORLD
in bright blue neon lights, and how she'd been tempted as a teenager cruising down Western. But that had been torn down, and in its place was a sleek, three-story cube made entirely from gray-tinted glass and blue steel at the corners. The Walgreen's W was perched just above the bubble glass doors, and she could see how crowded it was before she even went in. Walgreen's had always been one of those reliable businesses you saw everywhere, but since the pharm boom it had gone supernova.

As she stepped through, a wall of cold, air-conditioned air blasted her in the face. Along with it came the onset of that very particular feeling that she just needed to buy something. Like passing by a bakery and letting the smell of chocolate drag you by the nose. Except all she had done was enter the store, and she couldn't smell, hear, or see a reason for the desire that tugged at her mind.

It was gone in a moment. She scanned the layout of the store, looking for the cosmetics section. To her right was the line of sleek, brushed metal self-checkout cubes sitting on top of white marble floors. Shoppers brought their baskets to the machine, passed it through, paid, and took their bag of purchases home.

To her left, she found the pharm counter with its Tatum Pharmaceuticals ELIGO machines. These were the smartscreens that most people used to buy their pharms.

Most people, herself included, didn't like using them manually. It was so much easier to preplan on a tab or comm and then just swipe it at the store. But even so, even in the middle of the day, there was a line. The people at the front navigated the screens in a seeming trance, eventually coming away with the universal semi-smile that seemed plastered on the faces of so many people in the city.

That would be how Landon made so much money. This was more than a gold rush. This was—sometimes literally—people paying for the air they breathed. Willingly.

Finally, she found that the cosmetics section was on the second floor. She took the glass escalator up, made to look like customers were rising on the untethered panes of steel steps. As she ascended, she found a camera in the ceiling. Took a deep, slow breath.

Of course there was surveillance here, just like any store. It was just, even if she was working undercover, she'd never really cared quite so much. She realized that maybe, just maybe, the police might be using this surveillance footage soon.

Hopefully not. Landon had said she wasn't mentioned in the reports, and it was pretty early for the police to notice her car had been abandoned. Should be good for another couple days.

She put her head down and got off the escalator, then disappeared into the aisles. This was a supply room now. The best thing to do was get in, get out, and get on with it. Time was ticking.

Her plan was to do what she could with basic makeup and then add to the disguises with clothes and maybe a wig, if necessary. Hopefully it wouldn’t be; it would make it much harder to get out of initial suspicion if she had something as obvious as a wig. Really, anything past initial suspicion would end up with both of them pretty screwed.

Hair dye would be a good start. Combined with some spray tanner and maybe some work sculpting his brows, he would already survive a quick glance. The kicker would be if she could fake a relatively large birthmark on his face. The kind of thing that people instinctively looked away from.

When it came to disguises, there were two approaches. You could either try and look as average as possible, or try to stand out as something different than what you were. For instance, with a brash wig or very bold makeup.

In his case, she didn’t think she would be able to make Landon inconspicuous. He was too tall, too well-built, and his bearing didn’t suggest a man who tried to blend in. Didn't allow him to blend in.

So she would make him stand out. Hopefully in a way people wouldn’t suspect.

She picked out her necessary components quickly, basing the hair dye, tweezers, and tanner on brands she’d used in the past. She also decided to splurge on one of the digital sets with customizable DHA powder that had come out in the last few years. It was expensive, but using the application on her tablet to synthesize the powder into the shade she needed would allow for some fine-tuning without a return trip to the store.

The birth mark was going to be the tricky part. She’d seen the technique before but hadn’t actually tried it yet, so it might be a complete bust. But if she could get it to work, she really thought it would go a long way.

For herself, she was going to keep it simple. Gray hair dye, which had been hot for the last months since the release of a couple of summer action movies where the lead actress had given their hair a gray shimmer. Go get a haircut in the afternoon, maybe. Probably not necessary right away. She could dust her skin up a bit too, maybe add a little age. It would be easier for her to change her look and blend in. Plus her face wasn’t all over the news.

While she was at it, she picked up some clean underwear, deodorant, and other travel basics.

By the time she went to check out, she—or Landon, really—was almost five hundred dollars poorer. She went to a checkout cube and pushed her basket in, then passed the cash into the container to pay. As she waited for change, she looked up at the news program being displayed above the door.

A photo of Landon was in the upper left corner. Below him, a headline: Tatum Pharmaceuticals down on news of analyst concerns regarding CEO Landon Tatum. Analyst: “At best, this is erratic behavior.”

She pressed her lips together and looked away. This disguise really needed to work.

***

After Kristina left, Landon spent a few minutes on his tablet checking out further headlines regarding his disappearance. There was some of the typical financial analyst nonsense, but nothing that indicated a new source. It looked like it was all from the original report on Bloomberg.

Relatively good, but still an issue. Someone had managed to get this on without his PR firm putting a lid on it—without any comment from Tatum Pharmaceuticals. Who would have more clout in this kind of story than him? They had to be
huge
.

Still pondering, he went and took a shower. Brushed his teeth, thought about shaving but decided against it. Maybe Kristina would want him to grow out a beard for purposes of the disguise. He never let himself be seen in public unless he was clean-shaven. Could be a good asset. Anyway, if she wanted him to shave when she got back, it would be easy enough.

Whatever she had planned as far as this disguise went, he'd do. Mobility would be a huge asset to get back.

They needed to get a grip on the situation. The protocol he’d drafted was the key. How long would it take them to realize that he realized they had it? He might have a chance if he picked the right moment to go off script. He
needed
more information.

Landon licked his lips and looked up at the clock on the wall. Nearly nine-thirty. Maybe he should call Bruman, just for some eyes on the ground. She might have information he could use, and it wouldn’t hurt to let her know he was okay.

Chewing his lip, he picked up the comm and input her ID. She answered after three rings.

“Hello?”

Her voice was very strained, unusual for her. Tatum had known her since he was in college, and she had been his assistant for his entire professional life. She was nearly always the picture of calm stoicism.

“It’s me,” he said.

A pause. “Mr. Tatum?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god,” she said, her voice characteristically very high. “What happened to you?”

“Are you alone?”

“What? I...yes, I’m at my desk. What is happening? Where are you? Are you alright? Streams have been calling me, Lynn has no idea what to do and this is all crashing down. She says she's never seen anything like it. They didn't even call for comment!”

Landon grit his teeth. Lynn was his head of public relations. “I’m fine. Hidden, actually. Have the police called yet or has it just been the news outlets?”

“They called, yes. The police. I told them you were away but didn’t wish to file a missing person’s report. What is going on?”

“I can’t explain it to you right now. My apologies, but you’ll just have to trust me on this. Stalemate everything for the next couple days.” He paused. “And call this ID if that becomes impossible.”

“Mr. Tatum, how do you expect me to do that exactly? People are breathing down my neck from every angle, and I have no procedure for this type of situation.”

“Just tell them I am away on an urgent matter and I will be returning soon. Put yourself on lockdown and refuse to see anyone you don’t absolutely have to see. Pretend I’m on vacation. Lock your office door if you have to.”

She sighed. “Please just give me a hint at where you are.”

“I’m fine, and that's the last I'm going to talk about it." His jaw flexed. "Now, has there been anyone unscheduled who wanted to see me, outside media and the police?”

Silence on the other end. “Once news got out," she said, frustration in every word. "There were a great many calls, of course.”

“But nothing unusual?”

“It’s all quite unusual!" Another silence. "Give me something, or I will have to call the police. You are not acting at all well.”

Landon sat up straight. "Don't you dare. I'm fine!"

"None of this is fine!"

"Do you really want to test me?"

He waited as she seemed to consider. Finally, she sighed. "No. But this is most irregular."

"I understand, and I promise you will have my full apologies when all this is over. For now you have to trust me."

"I see. I will appreciate those apologies if they ever come."

"They will. Please do as I've asked. If the board wants a meeting, schedule it as far out as possible. And no comment with the media, please. I’ll call you again when I have more information.”

"I understand."

"And do not mention this call to the police unless you are under oath. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Ms. Bruman."

There was silence on the other line for a moment. After waiting for several breaths, he ended the call.

That had been all but useless.

He should have known she would react poorly to an unstructured situation like this. But threatening to go to the police? That was a bit much, even for her. He would have to keep in touch with her reasonably often or else she might go off and do something well-intentioned. That was the last thing he needed.

It was only a few minutes before he heard the apartment door unlock. Just as he looked over from the couch, Kristina walked through the door.

***

Kristina walked into the apartment and set her bags down by the door. She found Landon sitting on the couch in the living room, his comm still in his hand. He’d showered since she left, and was wearing a pale green t-shirt that hugged the muscles of his arms and a pair of midnight blue jeans filled out by full, muscular thighs.

It was a very casual, very sexy look.

“That was quick,” he said. He stood up and walked over to where she stood. He smelled very clean, like fresh pine trees.

“Trying to be fast,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. Something seemed different about the way he was carrying himself, but she couldn’t quite place it. “I see you showered.”

He nodded. “So what do we do to get started?”

She dug through the bag and pulled out a box. “I think we start with a base skin tone change,” she said, holding up the tanner. ”Have you ever used tanning solution before?”

He shook his head.

“Didn’t think so. This one is just about top-of-the-line. Custom synthesis.”

“Custom synthesis? Using one of those consumer-facing tablet setups to effect chromism changes?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Does that mean color?”

“Yes, sorry. I’ve read the literature about how this is used in cosmetics, but it isn’t a field my company is in currently.”

“Why not?” she asked, mildly curious.

“To be honest, because it’s not a field I know very well. Maybe that’s obvious. We have other growth sectors we’re exploring.”

She nodded. Why did she even ask, really? “Right. Well, we can use this tanner to change your skin tone for up to seventy-two hours at a time.”

“Sounds good.”

“I agree. Are you ready to get started?”

“When you are."

She motioned to the couch for them both to sit down. “Okay, we need to get this set up on the tab to choose the tone and synthesize the tanner first. Then you can apply it in the bathroom on your own.”

“Got it.”

She led the way to the couch, box in hand, and they both took a seat. It took them about fifteen minutes to get the software set up on her tablet. Soon, she was wirelessly communicating with the small white box containing the tanner, choosing a color for Landon’s new skin tone. The two of them sat on the couch, the tablet in Kristina's hands as she pointed to the screen. The tanner box sat on the coffee table in front of them.