Nash gamely put them both on. “How do these fit with the look?”
“Perfectly,” Ashley replied, “although we still need to do something to disguise your face.”
Brandon reached into yet another bag. The glasses her brother handed Nash were frameless and looked like something Benjamin Franklin might have worn. “Try putting these on. There’s no correction to the lenses, they’re just glass.”
Nash put them on, and Ashley nodded. “Yes, that’s perfect. If I wasn’t trying so hard to recognize you, there’s no way I would guess that Nash Hardwin is in that getup.”
Meanwhile, the fans screaming Nash’s name outside had only gotten louder.
Brandon’s phone rang again, the same SOS ringtone. Without even picking it up, he said to Nash and Ashley, “It’s time for you guys to go. Ash, I hope you don’t mind, but until I figure out where to move Nash so that he won’t be hounded, I was hoping I could temporarily move his stuff into your apartment. This way I can honestly tell the press to spread the word with the fans that he isn’t here anymore. Plus that way he has his things to change back into once the two of you have gotten out of here.”
“Ashley,” Nash said before she could reply, “you don’t have to put either me or my things up at your place. It’s more than enough that you’re helping me get out of the building.”
But she was already in it with him this far. Why not keep helping out if she could? “I have no problem with moving your bags into my apartment. This way, you’ll not only have a place to change out of that outfit, but your things will already be there.”
“Thanks, again. I owe you big time after today.”
“Okay, guys, enough chitchat.” Brandon herded them out the door. “Call me if you run into any trouble. Just remember to act naturally, and you should be fine. And be sure to go out the front door of the hotel so no one questions why tourists are using the service entrance.” Then he pinned Nash with a hard look. “And remember, my sister is off-limits.”
Ashley couldn’t resist slugging her brother in the gut—not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to wind him for a second—before getting into the elevator with Nash Hardwin by her side.
She’d told Brandon over breakfast that she was going to go wherever the wind took her today. Who would have thought it would blow her straight into the path of her secret celebrity crush?
CHAPTER THREE
Nash had done a lot of crazy things in his life. Some legal, some less so. But he’d never had a partner in disguise.
And he’d never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly either.
The more famous he became, the harder it was to trust people. Not that he’d been great at trusting people before fame. But during the past ten years, it had been easier to become more and more of a lone wolf.
Somehow, Ashley Sullivan had gotten over his walls. Maybe it was because she didn’t treat him like a star? Instead, she treated him like any regular guy who was in a jam and needed her help.
This wasn’t the way Nash had seen today going down. He had been looking forward to a rare day off from his packed tour schedule. For the next six weeks, he was booked to play a different European city each night. And then when the tour came to an end, he was planning to head straight into the studio to make a new record. An album for which he had yet to be inspired to write a single song.
This weekend in Vienna was supposed to give Nash some space from the grind of it all. No meetings. No interviews. And Brandon had assured him that the hotel would be the perfect place to get away. Before Ashley arrived, Nash had been irritated that his day wasn’t going to plan.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t irritated anymore.
He supposed he should be even more irritated, considering he was wearing ridiculous polyester clothes and had just been forced out of his luxurious hotel suite for the duration of his stay in Vienna. But as he glanced toward Ashley, he felt a budding sense of excitement. If they got away with their escape, maybe Nash could live for a few hours as a normal man in Austria—and maybe even see some of those tourist sights on Ashley’s spreadsheet.
In the elevator, he spoke in his Connecticut accent. “Once we’re out of the hotel, let’s stay in these disguises and do your list.”
“You want to join me sightseeing?” She looked shocked by his suggestion.
“I’ll bet your itinerary is as good, if not better, than one a tour guide would have put together. So yes, that would be great…if you’re up for letting me tag along with you today.”