Page 14 of Trip Me Up

She smiled again. “So, like I was saying, you and Niall will ask each other questions and talk about your books. Qiana, our publicist, will send you a list of topics. And then you’ll take questions from the audience. Oh, but first you’ll read a brief excerpt from the book.”

“Read? Aloud?” The thinking part of my brain switched off, leaving only the heart-racing, palm-sweating, body-shivering part functioning. The part that remembered reading in front of the class in school. The sneers. The snickers. The teacher’s impatient glare.

“Of course, aloud. Just a short section. You can memorize it if you like. We’re hoping to draw a couple hundred people at each event. Niall is wonderful at these things. You have nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? Every part of this tour was something I had to worry about. To hide the tremble in my fingers, I opened the book to the end. On the back flap was a paragraph or two of text, and above that was a black-and-white photo. A man crouched in a field next to a dog. If I hadn’t seen him in real life, I’d have assumed he was a brown-haired man with a regular-sized dog. But I knew that face and the flaming-red hair that crowned it. And considering how tall Niall was, that dog had to be some kind of hellbeast because it was as tall as the crouching man beside it.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Niall was a celebrity author who’d draw most of the attention away from me, which was a good thing. But there’d be attention, and I’d be expected to speak—to read—in public. Two terrifying things.

“Bilbo Baggins comes on tour with me.” It was the only way I’d survive.

“Who?” At last, I’d managed to put Heidi at a disadvantage.

I reached down and pulled my tote into my lap. Bilbo Baggins’ fluffy ears popped up first, and then his grinning face. “Bilbo Baggins.”

Her lip curled. “It’s not a rodent, is it?”

“He’s a Chihuahua mix. And he goes where I go.” My voice was stronger than I’d expected it to be.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” When she frowned at Bilbo Baggins, he ducked back into the bag, trembling.

“You need an author. Either he comes or I don’t.” I didn’t have a legal leg to stand on, and Martell would be furious with me if I backed out. Still, I jutted out my chin and held my head high, the same way I’d done when our family lawyer had tried to talk me out of donating my trust fund.

“Fine. Though not all of the venues will be dog-friendly. He’ll need to stay in your hotel room.”

“Okay. And also, no photos.”

“What do you mean, no photos? Do you mean no publicity shots, or do you also mean—”

“No selfies. No photos with the readers. No social media. No image of me will be published in connection with the tour.”

She blinked. “I don’t know if that’s—”

“Make it happen, or I’m not going.” I’d sworn never to take another photo after what had happened with Stephen. It didn’t matter that I’d be smart and have my clothes on this time. Any photo could be doctored. I knew exactly what A.I. could do.

She pursed her lips. “Fine. But no more conditions. If you so much as ask for an extra bed pillow, we’ll sue you for breach of contract.”

Damn. Now I really wished I’d read the contract. Mother would’ve killed me if she’d known I’d signed papers her legal team hadn’t reviewed. But I’d focused on only one thing—my Ph.D.—and the shortest path between myself and freedom.

Next to getting out of the tour altogether, taking Bilbo Baggins with me and avoiding photos would give me my best chance at survival.

I nodded. I’d used up all my courage. I hugged Bilbo Baggins inside the tote. I was smart. I could find some way out of the mess I’d somehow gotten myself into.

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