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Oh God, yes. Alcohol to numb the embarrassment at my frumpy state at a famed five-star resort.
I accept the drink with thanks and a smile, and try to look relaxed, as though I belong here. So far everyone seems to be pretending I do. The woman didn’t give me the stink eye. The valets are keeping a polite distance…
I have another sip of my drink and am fiddling with the umbrella when Gage comes out, shopping bag in hand.
He hands me the bag, takes my drink as he does so, and guzzles a third of it as he waits for me to open the bag.
I pull out a short aqua-colored skirt that’s surprisingly cute considering a guy picked it out.
“Girl in the gift shop chose it,” he says.
Oh. Well, that answers that.
“I told her you didn’t want your buns hanging out while we checked in.”
“And I’m sure she was only too happy to help out the Gage Barrett,” I say as I step into the skirt and wiggle it up.
He hands me the drink back, then tugs off the tag before I can see the price. Probably a good thing, I doubt the gift shop at the Maui Four Seasons is in my price range.
“Not Gage,” he says as he offers his hand to me.
“What?” I ask, taking it on instinct, letting him propel me toward th
e lobby.
“For the next twenty-four hours, I’m not Gage Barrett.”
“Can I still be Ellie?”
He smiles but doesn’t reply as we approach the hotel reception.
A tall, thin man with a polite, upper-crust smile greets us. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Four Seasons. I’m Ivan, and am delighted to have you.”
A moment later, I realize what Gage was prattling on about. He checks us in under the name of Gus Belvedere, and when I wait for Ivan to bust his ass when his credit card and ID don’t match, it doesn’t happen. He’s done this before—checked in under another name. I’ve always assumed that was an urban legend about celebrities with fake names, but I guess it makes sense. In their world, there’s probably no better relief than anonymity.
“Here you are, Mr. Belvedere,” Ivan says, sliding us an envelope with two key cards. “Shall I have a team member escort you to the Presidential Suite?”
“No, thanks. I know where it is,” Gage says with a smile as he takes the keys.
“Of course. Anything else you need, just let us know.”
“Actually, yeah,” Gage says with a smile. “This trip is a bit impromptu. My friend and I are lacking, well…everything.”
“Of course,” Ivan murmurs, pulling out a notepad and pen. “I’ll give the lady a moment to think of everything she might need. Write it down here, and just call when you need our team to take care of it.”
“Very good, thanks,” Gage says, picking up the paper and handing it to me. “Oh, and Ivan?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Anyone calls, I’m not here.”
“Of course not.”
Too overwhelmed to do anything else, I let Gage lead me toward the elevators.
“Gage, this is way too much. I can’t let you—”
He ushers me into the elevator. Then, nudging me gently toward the back, he sets one hand next to my head and leans down with a teasing smile, pulling off his sunglasses and flipping his cap around backward, so the bill doesn’t hit me in the forehead. A disguise, I realize. It wouldn’t fool anybody who was looking for him, but the hat and the glasses are enough to keep casual observers from recognizing him.
