Page 48 of The Suite Life
Gary squints, as if trying to decipher that one for himself too.
‘I’m not sure, really. Just going with the flow,’ he mumbles before meandering off – bumping into someone else almost immediately, dropping his key card again.
I can’t help but chuckle to myself.
Gary Garrie, such a party animal that they probably only named him twice so that he only had one name to remember, is having the time of his life. I don’t know what kind of competition he won to bring him here, but he’s certainly making the most of it. Good on him, I suppose. It’s not a million miles different from what I’m doing. Making the most of my freebies while I can.
With a shake of my head and a lingering smile, I continue towards the restaurant, reminding myself why I’m here.
The breakfast bar is a real treat for the senses, a vibrant array of colours and tempting aromas that practically pull me towards it. Trays of fresh tropical fruit, platters of golden pastries, and the tempting aroma of Kona coffee mingle in the air, making my mouth water. I’m not here for breakfast – well, I am, obviously, I’m not crazy, but I have something I need to get off my chest first, to someone very specific.
As I stroll past the food, my eyes eagerly scan the restaurant, looking for Donnie. I’m relieved when I spot him, at a tabletucked away in a corner. I join him, plonking down with an ungraceful thud.
‘Mind if I join you?’ I ask him. ‘Also, good morning.’
I get that in there sharpish, realising how abrupt my tone is, but I’m itching to tell him what’s going on.
‘Good morning – of course not,’ Donnie replies, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiles warmly.
I stop in my tracks as I notice two plates on the table, piled high with a mouth-watering and incredibly varied assortment of foods from the breakfast buffet. There are stacks of fluffy macadamia nut pancakes drizzled with coconut syrup, fresh slices of pineapple and mango glistening under the light of the morning sun, and an assortment of pastries that look almost too pretty to eat. I feel like I am eating them already, just by smell and sight, and I have never been hungrier. The colours are so vibrant – the deep greens of avocado, the golden hues of fresh honey, and the burst of red from the ripe strawberries. Donnie has a bit of everything here, and I want it all, but I suddenly realise I might be intruding on something. Well, it’s easy to forget I’m not the main character here, when I’m seemingly making everything all about me. I think I might be interrupting some kind of breakfast date.
‘Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, do you have company?’ I ask, embarrassed, pushing my chair out. ‘I can leave you to it. My story will keep until later, don’t worry.’
‘No, no, I’m here alone,’ Donnie insists. ‘Please, stay. Have breakfast with me.’
I look down at the two plates again and then back up at Donnie.
‘There are two plates,’ I point out. ‘Did you guess I would be joining you?’
‘Erm, yes,’ Donnie says with a charmingly awkward laugh. ‘Sure. We’ll say that’s the reason.’
I smile. It is suddenly so obvious he has loaded two plates for himself – a man after my own heart.
Donnie’s brow furrows with concern as he seemingly notices the tension in my shoulders.
‘Are you okay, Gigi?’ he asks. ‘You seem a bit tense.’
I let out a deep sigh, glancing around to ensure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation.
‘I need to tell you something,’ I confess. ‘I’ll go mad if I don’t tell someone.’
‘Go on,’ Donnie says, leaning in so that I don’t have to talk as loudly.
‘I’ve worked out why I’m getting so much special treatment here at the resort, and why I’m getting so much male attention – it’s because they all think I’m someone else,’ I blurt.
Donnie looks confused.
‘Who do they think you are?’ he asks, puzzled.
‘When I checked in, I gave my real name, which is Gigi Marsden, but they’ve all mistaken me for someone who has been in the news recently, called G.G. Marsden – have you heard about them?’ I ask.
For a moment, Donnie just stares at me blankly.
‘So… sorry, I’m just… I don’t understand what’s happening,’ he tells me.
‘I barely understand it myself, so I can only give you the simple version, but basically when Martin Savage died – the head of Mediworldwide – it turned out he had a mystery child from an old relationship, and the press has worked out that their name is G.G. Marsden, and that they were probably coming here, but they don’t know anything else about them. So I’ve turned up here, given my name, and they’ve assumed that I’mtheG.G. Marsden! Martin Savage basically chose our current prime minister, and he’s a billionaire, and people think I’m one of his heirs, that I’m this influential, powerful woman. So that’swhy there’s all this buzz around me, and why I have an amazing suite – it’s all a big misunderstanding.’
‘Wow,’ Donnie says simply. ‘That’s… wow.’
