She left the dressing room door open and rounded the corner, out of view. He followed at a much slower pace as he headed for the elevators. He had a lot to do and the list kept growing. First, full access to his family couldn’t have been a good idea. He should move their permanent suites to a different floor. Second, yet most important, how he planned to get Gage back for his loose lips. That would take some time to plan. Third, why he’d gone to all the trouble of spray tanning and adding blond to his hair this afternoon. Kellus Hardin came to mind.
Instead of focusing on Kellus, he pulled his phone from his pocket to text Gage, then put it away. He decided to have that conversation face-to-face.
~?~
Kellus sat in heavy traffic, fighting the urge to bite his thumbnail as dread bubbled in the pit of his stomach. None of this made sense. Since he’d had several minutes of rolling a few feet, then stopping, he had more than enough time to check out all the other vehicles pulling into the resort’s entryway. All he could really say was that his was lacking in a huge way.
He should have rented a car, but how could he have known? He hadn’t anticipated this kind of crowd coming to one of his shows. Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure what the heck was going on. The resort had nothing scheduled for tonight, he’d checked their website earlier today. Tomorrow, The Cult was playing, but this kind of crowd, with expensive car after expensive car, didn’t really hang with the post-punk scene.
The guard flagging traffic stood blocking the entrance to the main self-parking lot where Kellus had planned to park, which meant his only other option was valet. Oh no. He couldn’t drive his beater van to the front doors between the Bentley in front of him and Rolls directly behind.
Panic had him hooking the van to the left and rolling down his window to stop as close as he could to the guard, “What’s all this for?”
“There’s an art show tonight. Keep to the right for valet, sir.”
From this angle, Kellus got the full view of the front doors. He saw two television news vans parked to the side of the main entrance and a long line of limos and other chauffeur-driven cars parked all around the building. Loads of people were gathered under the awning. His eyes narrowed as he tried to absorb what he was looking at. He couldn’t pull his old work van up to that. He was the featured artist of the show they were there to see.
This couldn’t be possible. Please don’t let it be possible… Oh God, he wanted to throw up. Surely there must be something else going on at the resort tonight.
He sat back in the seat and glanced around his van at the torn seats, broken dash, and the “too many miles to count” overall look. Self-doubt and insecurities began to take hold.
He cut his eyes back to the guard and gave a small plea. “What about self-parking? I’m the artist.”
The guy looked indecisive, but whatever he saw on Kellus’s face had him caving as he pointed toward a lot near an open pasture. “That would be this way. The first two parking lots are reserved for the media and the valet. The back lot’s open for limited self-parking—if there are any spots left,” the guy said, taking several steps backward.
“Thanks, man.” Kellus made an immediate hard left, maneuvering to the side of the blockade.
The attendant hadn’t been lying about the limited availability. He’d parked in the very back lot, right along the grass line, and had to hike the distance to the hotel. His nervous energy increased with each step he took. As he got closer to the front, he saw photographers stationed outside the sliding glass doors along with a local news anchor interviewing a woman he’d never seen before who was dressed in some over-the-top, high-fashion award-show ensemble.
He skirted the hubbub, heading for a side door entrance closest to the gallery. Using his knuckles, he gently rapped on the gallery door to capture Sara’s attention on the other side. He could see her through the glass. It looked like she was the only one there, which was surprising considering all the cars parked everywhere and the packed lobby just fifty feet away. Fortunately for him, Sara heard the knock and moved as quickly as her stilettos would allow to let him in.
“This is crazy,” he said before the door got fully open.
“Did everyone go nuts when you walked up?” she asked excitedly as he slid past her inside the security of the empty gallery.
“No! They don’t know who I am,” he answered, certain his face showed how ridiculous her statement sounded.