Read Fool Me Once (Privateer Tales) for Free Online

cup of something. Clearly, a woman with few problems on her mind. It wouldn’t be my first choice, but I thought I could pull it off, if necessary. She was mesmerizing to watch. The world owed her and she knew it.
    The waiter caught my attention, “Madame, have you decided?” He spoke with an accent I didn’t recognize.
    “I’m new in town and not sure what is good to eat. Would you make a recommendation?” The waiter was at least forty years old and I knew, being a man, he couldn't resist the request. His face lit up.
    “Oh, then let Moreno take care of you, if you please. Such a beautiful woman is a joy to serve. The chef has a delightful antipasto with a delicious vino cheese. We would follow that with a small serving of our fettuccini noodles with olive oil and to top it off, a pastry made right here by our very own chef.” He beamed at me.
    “That sounds wonderful, Moreno.” I was a little afraid it would be too much, but I needed to spend time here. Moreno bustled off, only to return with a small glass of a white bubbly drink.
    “d’Asti for the lady,” he announced and waited for me to take a drink. I obliged and found it to be sweet and alcoholic. I smiled in acknowledgement.
    The next woman I saw was quite the opposite of the flowery woman with red shoes. Dressed entirely in gray, she wore long pants and a coat. Her hair was pulled back severely and she punctuated her conversation with sharp movements. She was interesting, but a business woman was not what I was looking for.
    Moreno brought out a small plate of cheese with thin pieces of meat.
    “Your antipasto.” He bustled off without waiting to see if I enjoyed it or not.
    By the time I'd finished my meal and a delicious cup of coffee, I was both physically full and mentally comfortable with the person I wanted to become. Watching the restaurant patrons and others walking by, I felt like I had a range of styles and personas that made sense for me. Now, I just had to find a shop that would be able to work the transformation I had in mind. Finding the right place might require a bit of a walk, but the Martian air was still as sweet smelling as it had been this morning and I had a pocket full of m-creds that needed a new home.
    The first several clothing vendors I approached had some items that looked nice, but even with the help of a sales person, nothing came together quite right. I almost walked by a strange shop, a table really, with nothing on it but two large reading pads and a sign that read, ‘Boutique.’ The woman, sitting by herself, returned my gaze with only mild interest. She was striking, dressed in a black tunic and long skirt, with high-heeled black shoes. With deeply tanned skin and straight black hair that was neatly trimmed at shoulder length, she was a picture of quiet sophistication. This was a woman who could help me.
    “You don’t look like my normal clientele.” Her voice was lower and huskier than I’d expected.
    “Is that a problem?” I asked, probably with more hostility than necessary.
    “Not at all. I like a challenge.”
    “I need a new look and I think you can help me.” I tried to retract the claws.
    “Why me? There are plenty of shops around here.”
    I couldn't understand what I had done to perturb her, so I pressed on. "Instinct."
    She looked me up and down and then twirled her finger at me. I obliged by turning around.
    “You’re too skinny, but I could make something work. What do you want here?”
    “I need clothing.” I was a dumbfounded at her question.
    “No. That’s why you are at my shop. Why are you in Puskar Stellar?”
    “I'm looking for someone.”
    “Okay. Good. How long do you plan to be here?”
    “I don’t know. Depends on if I find her.”
    “Her?” She jumped on it. I immediately wished I could rescind my words. Somehow she had me off balance.
    “It’s personal.”
    “It matters. I need to know who I’m dressing,” she insisted.
    “I don’t even know your