Page 100 of The Bossy One

Now my cheeks werereallyburning. “That’s me.”

“And here I thought you met on a plane.” Marie shook her head. “Sons. They never tell their mums anything.”

Not wanting to explain that can of worms, I called for Catie and helped get her ready to head out the door.

After Catie and Marie had left, I finally admitted I couldn’t put recording this video off any longer. When Declan had said he wouldn’t have any time to help me for over a week, I’d thought it was a blessing since I hadn’t felt ready yet.

Now I wondered if putting it off so long had been a mistake. I’d built it into this huge thing in my head. What if my voice sounded weird? What if everyone made fun of my outfit? What if I mispronounced the author’s name? What if the camera broke, and we couldn’t do the video in time, and the publishing company decided they didn’t want to do a partnership with me after all?

I blew out a breath. “Just do it,” I ordered myself.

I jogged up the steps to the second floor and retrieved the book from my room. Then I went to go find Declan, but he wasn’t in his office. I wandered the mansion looking for him until I found him setting up a camera in a small room on the first floor I’d never noticed. It had large windows that looked out over the side of the house.

“I thought we were going to do it outside?” I said.

“I checked with one of our photographers on staff,” Declan said, fussing with the camera perched somewhat precariously on a tripod. “We want natural light, but we don’t want you in direct sunlight. Can you sit in that chair?”

He pointed to a small green armchair facing the camera.

I settled in, suddenly very aware of my elbows and knees. What did Declan see when he pointed that camera at me?

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked.

I looked down at my buttery yellow T-shirt. “You don’t like it?”

“I love everything you wear,” Declan said, and there was enough warmth in his eyes I knew he wasn’t lying. “But the staff photographer said yellow can wash out people with fairer skin tones.”

He stated the words precisely, like he’d memorized the photographer’s exact instructions.

I felt a spurt of guilt. He’d put so much effort into this, and here I was dreading it.

“Yellow is friendly and will pop against the chair,” I said. “Besides, I don’t need to look like a model.”

“Sure.” Declan nodded. He fiddled with the camera again. “Okay. Go.”

I blinked. “We’re starting?” I yelped. “I’m not ready!”

Declan laughed and turned off the camera. “It’s fine. Take a deep breath. Do you want to do a practice run before we record?”

“Yes,” I said gratefully.

But the practice run didn’t go very well. Declan kept making me hold the book at different angles until he found one where viewers would easily be able to see it while I was reading. I felt my arm cramping as I tried to maintain the awkward angle. I stumbled over the sentences as I tried to read them upside down and at an angle.

“That’s grand,” Declan said encouragingly. “Let’s try recording one, yeah?”

I didn’t want to. I wasn’t ready. But I made myself nod and flip back to the beginning of the book.

I started to read the book. “Once upon a time—”

“Do you think you should introduce yourself?” Declan interrupted. “Maybe the title of the book too?”

I smacked myself in the forehead. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” His smile was so warm and confident, it made me feel like even more of an inept fraud. “Let’s go again.”

Declan hit record.

I fumbled through an introduction. Then I started reading. The words felt stiff and awkward on my tongue. At first I thought it was my fault. Around our fourth take, I started to realize the problem wasn’t me. At least not entirely.

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