“I’ll just change out of the dress now and duck into the hotel lobby bathroom when we get there for a quick switcheroo. Just drop me off at a side door or something.” “I’m firing this fucking stylist,” he said under his breath. He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed in a way that made me long for lung capacity. Fists propped on his hips, he turned around and I could see in his face that he was in quarterback mode. He waved a hand at the cape. “Can you take that off? Until we get downstairs?” “Yeah, but—” “Good. Do that.” To Ines, he said, “You’ll carry that thing and the little bag.” He
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