One night. That’s all they’d had together. After being torn apart by their parents, Ella faking her own death, and Rome being drugged and taken overseas against his will, they’d spent one night together in a hotel in Italy before having to face the realization that they were still on the run, that Rome’s father was certain to have his men after them, and there was nothing they could do to guarantee their safety except for run as fast as they could and try to get lost in the nameless, faceless world Rome had never been a part of.
The morning light was just beginning to seep between the curtains when Ella pulled herself from bed. Rome was in the shower. She could hear the water running. Since she’d taken a shower the night before, she decided to skip that and stared at the costume Bart had dropped off for her the night before. A curly red wig, some darker, larger sunglasses than the ones she’d been wearing, and a fake mole. Could she work with this?
When Rome emerged from the bathroom, he also quite look like himself, though she could still recognize his strong chin and perfect nose. His hair was bleached blond, and he had a tuft of a beard in a similar shade attached beneath his bottom lip. She wanted to laugh at him but was pretty sure she would look just as ridiculous in her getup so she stifled it.
Once she had the wig on and the mole strategically placed, Rome stood behind her in the mirror, trying to hide his own laughter. “We don’t look anything like those two crazy kids who got hitched in Vegas a few weeks ago,” Rome said, his eyes fixed on hers in their reflection.
“No, we don’t,” she agreed. It seemed like that had been years ago when in fact it had been less than a month. So much had happened since that day. So much had happened because of that day.
When Bart and Mary joined them later, her friend who used to clean her house didn’t look like herself either. Mary was wearing a black wig with a blunt cut and thick reading glasses. Her makeup was way over the top as well.
Bart, on the other hand, looked more like Rome than her husband currently did. He had his hair styled the way Rome usually wore it and was wearing clothing that was very similar to an outfit Rome wore often. “I sure hope this works,” Rome said, looking Bart over.
“Me, too. At least the hotel staff has agreed to help. Having the three of you sneak out the back door and get into a private car should make it very hard for your father to track you, even if he does have eyes on the hotel.”
“If he does, it will be great if they follow you to the airport,” Mary said, still staring at Bart.
“Unless they try to kidnap him.” Ella didn’t like the idea of Bart putting himself into harm’s way--again--trying to help them escape from Rome’s father’s men.
“I’ll look different when I get out of the car. I won’t look like myself, but I won’t look like Rome either,” he assured them.
“Bart is a master of disguise,” Rome said, chuckling.
“Clearly. He did a great job of making you look like someone else,” Mary noted.
“Well, I am heading to the airport now,” Bart said. “You guys have thirty minutes. Go downstairs, and ask for Gia. She’ll help you out.”
Ella had tears in her eyes as she stepped forward to hug Bart. “Thank you so much, for everything. We could’ve never done this if it wasn’t for you.” If it hadn’t been for Bart, she never would’ve considered faking her own death, and she certainly wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. She’d either be in California, held hostage at her father’s house again, or she would’ve been forced to go to France to marry Henry Caron, her father’s work associate’s son.
“You’re welcome, Ella,” Bart said, hugging her back. “Call me on the burner phone if any of you need anything.”
She let him go and watched as Rome wrapped his arms around what was clearly a lifelong friend.
Mary said her goodbyes to Bart, too, and then Rome’s look-alike disappeared out the door, hopefully leading anyone who might’ve been watching far away from the rest of them.
“Okay--so we are headed to Madrid, right?” Mary asked Rome, going over the plan again.
“Yes. This car will take us to the train station. From there, we’ll make our way to Madrid. We have a few changes to throw anyone who might be following us off. Then, once we get to the airport, we’ll fly to Budapest, then take another train. Eventually, we’ll end up in South Korea and then on to Mindoro. I can’t imagine my dad would ever think we’d be headed there.”
“How did you decide that’s where we’re going?” Mary asked him.
Ella stifled a giggle. “We chose randomly,” she replied, thinking about how fun it had been to chart their course with random blind pointing at Google Earth the night before.
“I guess that’s one way to make sure they won’t guess where we’re going,” Mary agreed.
“Once we get to Budapest, I’m going to call my aunts,” Ella reminded both of them.
“And I’m going to call a lawyer. Bart gave me the name of a guy he trusts.” Rome’s jaw was set, and Ella knew then that he was going to do whatever he could to reestablish them in LA so he could continue to pursue his dreams. It was an unsettling idea to say the least. She had no idea how she’d go about doing graphic design again. She might have to start her own company, but she definitely wasn’t ready to give up her dream either.
“I think we should head downstairs,” Mary said, gathering the bags she’d brought over when she’d come from her room.
“I sure hope this works.” Ella felt nervous tangles forming in her stomach.
“If my father’s men try to take us, we have to fight and scream,” Rome reminded the girls. They both nodded. “We can’t let them take any of us to a different location. There’s no one else here to save us.”
“I sure hope Bart knows that,” Mary said, shaking her head.
“Me, too,” Rome admitted. Ella could tell he was also nervous for his friend. She prayed they heard from him soon, that he was at the airport, through security, and safe.