Page 10 of No Time Off

We retrieved our luggage from the back of limo that we’d placed there the day before and entered a small office area. We went into the restrooms and changed into our traveling clothes: I removed my hat and porter outfit and put on a pair of soft traveling pants, a white shirt, and a long tan sweater. Disguise or not, I was going to be comfortable on the plane.

I finished off my new look with a blond wig in a blunt cut and some badly applied makeup. We are who we are.

I met Slash outside. He looked ravishing in slacks, a polo, a jaunty sailor’s hat, and a neatly trimmed mustache. Slash had determined there should be no issues with our passport photos since women dye and cut their hair all the time, and Slash could certainly grow a mustache. Nonetheless, the overall effect, according to Slash’s trained eye, was we now appeared to be two completely different people.

My phone vibrated as we caught the parking bus back to the airport terminal. It was Gray. I swiped my phone on and pressed it to my ear.

“Hello,” I said.

“How’s it going?” Gray asked. “All’s well?”

“All’s well,” I confirmed. “We lost them. How about you?”

“We got busted in line at the ticket counter. It was hilarious. I’ll never forget it for as long as I live. The paparazzi were livid, especially when I told them they’d got the wrong airport…suckers.”

I stifled a laugh. “Good for you.”

“Trust me, I’ve never seen faces so mad. They might have even gotten violent if Hands wasn’t there looking so menacing in his long, dark toupee.”

“I bet.” Now a laugh escaped, and Slash looked at me questioningly. He’d only heard my side of the conversation, so I’d have to fill him in later.

As we got off the bus at the terminal, I could see one of the paparazzi cars returning to pick up the two men. They never even glanced our way.

I nodded in their direction to Slash. “I think they’d be quite disappointed to know how close they really were to getting us.”

He chuckled. “Au contraire,cara. They were never really close at all.”

EIGHT

Slash

The bag drop for our domestic flight to Hawaii was at the opposite end of the terminal from most international airlines. I kept a steady scan of the crowd, searching for anyone who might be paying unusual attention to us. Nothing stood out, and we dropped our bags and headed to security.

“Do you think we’ll have any problem getting through TSA?” Lexi asked me anxiously, even though we’d already discussed it a dozen times.

“I’d be surprised if we did. We still look like our passport photos, and we aren’t using a false identity. It not against the law to change your hair color, wear a wig, or don a fake mustache. Plus, they don’t give more than passing attention to the pictures. We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” She blew out a breath. “But I had a nightmare last night that everything went perfectly with our plan, but then we were arrested because I had too much liquid in my backpack. Not surprisingly, I’ve checked it three times already.”

“Just relax,” I assured her. “It’s time for us to wind down and start enjoying our honeymoon.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t mind flying.”

Her voice sounded irritable, but I knew it was prompted by a genuine dislike for airplanes. None of which I could blame her for, because crazy things had happened when she was in the air, including an actual crash that she had miraculously survived.

“I’m right here with you,” I said taking her hand. “We’ve got this.”

Despite her nervousness, she smiled, and we passed through security uneventfully. We headed to the transportation that took us to our gate area.

Lexi’s stomach growled. “Can we get some breakfast first? With all the excitement, we didn’t eat anything.”

“Sure. Remember, the flight is supposed to serve us breakfast in first class, too. But let’s get something to tide us over until then, including coffee. I could definitely use some of that.”

We each grabbed a bagel and coffee and a fruit cup to share and then headed to the gate to eat.

We found several seats with our backs to the windows. Sitting across from us were two older women. One of them was wearing a calf-length, flowered dress and staring at me. When my gaze met hers, she smiled, and I smiled back. She whispered something to her friend, and they started giggling. I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but it seemed harmless.

Lexi and I ate our bagels and drank bad airport coffee as I continued to survey the gate area for unwanted attention.

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