I hesitated, glancing toward Lee.
“That’s right,” Lee said, nodding. “Roman is a military man.”
I nodded, hoping that was enough.
Sebastian set down his scissors and reached for a small brush. “I served in Afghanistan. Brutal. Where did you serve?”
Shit.
“He served in special forces,” Lee interjected, coming to my rescue. “Top secret. He can’t talk about it.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, that kind of military. Got it.”
I straightened, schooling my expression into something serious. “That’s right. Very special. Very secret.”
Under the emperor’s domain, but still unique.
Sebastian chuckled. “My brother’s a spy, too. He comes home for Thanksgiving, and we can’t get a word out of him.” He shook his head before turning back to his client. “Okay, Frank, we’re done. Lisa will check you out at the front desk.”
Frank stood, brushing hair clippings from his broad shoulders.
I studied him for a moment. “Does Lisa verify that you have done an excellent job?”
Sebastian blinked. “What?”
I gestured toward Frank’s head. “Frank’s haircut seems to have been done well.”
Lee made a strangled noise, covering his mouth.
Sebastian smirked. “Uh… thanks, I guess.”
Lee cut in quickly. “English isn’t Roman’s first language.”
I shot him a look. “Wait, yes, it is. I grew up in?—”
Lee’s eyes narrowed in warning. “It’s a phrase, Roman.” He turned to Sebastian. “It means he didn’t learn all the subtleties of English when he grew up in his tiny village in Europe.”
Lee gave me a small nod—Follow along.
“Ah! Right. I didn’t master the subtleties.” Lifting my chin, I threw in what I hoped was an air of mystery. “I have been gone… for a long time.”
Sebastian gave a nod, his skepticism evident, but he chose not to push.
Lee clapped me on the back. “Let’s get you in the chair, warrior. Time for a makeover.”
Sebastian grabbed a broom and swept the clippings of Frank’s white hair into a neat pile. “Let’s get you spruced up.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Spruced up?”
“Looking good, my man. Looking good!” Sebastian patted the black leather chair.
I hesitated, then sat, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Sebastian retrieved a misting device and sprayed a fine mist over my hair. Cool droplets settled against my scalp, making my skin prickle.
Then, he picked up a buzzing tool, a long cord trailing behind it.
He flipped a switch, and the tool came to life, vibrating with a hum eerily similar to the tattoo machines.
