Chapter 1
I was sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting for my friend and his son to join me. The hotel has the best sports bar in town and we meet on Saturday evenings to suck down some brews and catch some college games from the west coast. This was convenient, for my friend's son worked the front desk at the hotel, with Saturday shifts from 7 AM to 3 PM. I was a little early, and glanced around to see when Tom would arrive.
It was a bit of a strange set-up, the three of us. Our families had been close friends and did a lot of things together. When my wife died five years ago it made the dynamics rather awkward, so Susan gave Saturday evenings over to 'the guys' while she started attending a book club. At least that's what they called it. Mostly it was an excuse to drink wine and dish on neighborhood gossip. Tom and Susan's son, Chris was an avid football fan, so he made it a threesome of guys for the games. Chris is 21, Tom and I are 43.
Since there wasn't much going on, Chris came over to chat until his shift was over.
"It looks like just the two of us tonight. A guy at dad's office got sick, so they asked dad to take his place attending some out of town business meeting and he won't be home until late tomorrow evening."
"I know you'd probably rather hang out with some of your friends instead of an old fogey like me, so you go ahead and do what you want. I don't want to cramp your style with the ladies."
Chris laughed. "Last night I did a pub crawl with my friends. Tonight I was looking forward to catching the Oregon-USC game. Probably won't be a lot of girls tonight, anyway."
"If you need to bail, I understand."
Chris is something of a 'babe magnet.' Tall and dark, with a brooding look and quiet, mysterious demeanor that attracts girls by the pack. I've seen him in a bar with three girls around him.
A cute girl with brown/blond hair falling just to her shoulders walked through the door, towing a couple of rolling suitcases, and headed for the desk. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place who it was, but with sunglasses on I couldn't be sure, and Chris hurried back to his post to handle a check-in. The young lady pushed her sunglasses up on her head and chatted with Chris while he looked something up in his computer. The young woman frowned as she rummaged in her rather expensive-looking purse. She pulled out a credit card and an envelope, but Chris shrugged his shoulders and held his hands out, palms up. The girl seemed agitated, and Chris motioned for me to come up to the desk.
"This is Miley Cyrus, Tom. She has a problem I can't work through. She is officially staying at the Sheraton out near the arena, but wants to spend a night away from the tour madness."
"Oh, yeah. I heard she has a concert tomorrow. I've got a buddy from work who ushers for some events at the arena, and he is working the Miley show. Dreading it, with all the screaming fans who try everything to finagle their way into the more expensive seats in front of the stage. Wait... if you're Miley and you're staying at the Sheraton, what are you doing here at the Marriott?"
"Because of the screaming fans. I love it in New York or L.A., but sometimes on tour I like some down time. The show caravan is coming up from Miami. They'll arrive sometime tonight and start setting up. Tomorrow will be hectic with rehearsal, sound checks and so forth. Sometimes I like to just dress plain and spend the night before at a quiet place. We usually reserve a large suite."
"And the problem is...?"
"My manager made the reservation in his name, with his credit card. He usually gives it to me to check in, but forgot to give it to me."
"Don't you have a credit card?"
She handed me her credit card and license. "The problem is, if I use mine word will get out that I'm here, and I'll be pestered. I have cash, but..."
Chris interjected "We can't accept that amount of cash. Company policy."
"So," I asked "how can I help?"
"Well, if you'd be so kind to use your card to pay for the room I could give you the cash. Then nobody would know."
I considered my options. It sure sounded like it could be a scam, some way for an impersonator to pass off counterfeit money or skim some credit card information or something. I wasn't even sure it was her. She didn't look like photos I had seen of her. This girl had on a blouse and a conservative below-the-knee skirt. Sunglasses were pushed up on her head, and her hair was pulled back into a really short ponytail. Her drivers' license looked real enough, and the name on the license and credit cards matched.
"Please?"
I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. "Okay. I'll do it."
She broke into a grin and for a moment I could imagine she really was Miley Cyrus...I handed my credit card to Chris and he ran it through the machine and gave it back. "Nothing will be charged until checkout tomorrow."
"How much is this setting me back?"
Chris grinned "Only seventeen hundred dollars."
I gulped, but Miley started pulling hundreds and fifties out of the envelope. "Here's twenty five hundred. That should take care of any extra charges. You can keep whatever is left over. If we go over that I'll make good on it."
By now it was after three and Chris was officially off duty. As he came around the desk Miley asked "Would you gentlemen mind helping me take my bags up?"
Chris and I each took one suitcase while she slung a large open bag over her shoulder and we rode the elevator to the top. The top floor consisted of two enormous suites, one of which was still empty, so she would essentially have the entire floor. When Chris opened the door she looked around approvingly. "This will do nicely."
"Ms. Cyrus, er, Miley," I asked "How do you manage to get to another hotel without being recognized if that is your goal?"
She laughed. "I dress like this with no makeup. I come on a charter flight, and if I can get out of the airport, I'm usually home free. By the way, what does anyone do for fun around here?"
I said "I'm afraid we're not New York. Chris and his dad and I usually watch football until the west coast games are over. Have some burgers. Drink some beer."
"I like basketball myself. Go Lakers!"
"Basketball season doesn't start for awhile. Around here we're more into college basketball than pro. Tonight it's just Chris and I to watch football – his dad was drafted to go to a business conference in Vegas. Poor guy!"
She laughed. "Ooh. One of my favorite places. So it's just you two tonight, huh? Want some company?"