Page 109 of Trip Me Up

“People are going to ask questions if we’re walking around with a bale of tape. You have a backpack or computer bag?”

“Upstairs.”

“Go get it.”

When I emerged from the stairwell, my racing heart skipped a beat. Martell stood in the doorway of my office, hands on his hips. There was no way to sneak past him to get the bags. I’d have to play it cool.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up behind my adviser, shuffling my combat boots so he’d hear me.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Martell. Excuse me.” I squeezed past him into the office and went to my desk.

“Samantha, I was looking for you. Is everything ready for the presentation tomorrow?”

“I sent you the deck this morning.” It had been full of lies about the stories CASE had produced. Keeping my head down, I opened a drawer. It’d all be over soon.

“It looked good. I know you don’t like public speaking, so I’ll drive the presentation and the demo. I need you to be prepared to answer any technical questions. Are you ready?”

I glanced up at him quickly as I pulled out a tote bag from a conference I’d attended. I could’ve told him there’d be nothing to demo. But I wasn’t a hundred percent confident he couldn’t find a grad student to wind the tape back into its bobbin and restore CASE. Besides, being caught red-handed, and with Jackson, who wasn’t supposed to be in the server room, wouldn’t be good. I’d send him an email later. Cowardly, but it’d get the job done.

“Sure, I’m ready.” Ready to get out of there.

He frowned. “What are you doing with that bag?”

It did look odd to walk out holding an empty bag. I scanned the office for something to stuff into it. A shriveled apple sat on the corner of Kyle’s desk. I grabbed it and dropped it into the bag.

Martell frowned. “You’re not going to eat that, are you?”

“No.” I blinked.Come on, neurons, don’t fail me now.“My dog likes them this way. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

He wrinkled his nose like he could smell the rotten apple. Quickly, I unplugged my laptop and slid it into my other bag. “Good-night.”

“You don’t usually leave so early.”

I should’ve been used to lying by now. “I, uh, want to get a good night’s rest. You know, before the big presentation.” My heart pounding, I slipped past him into the hallway.

“Did I see your brother’s car in the lot?”

Damn, damn, damn Jackson and his fancy car. “No, must’ve been someone else.”

“What are the odds? I don’t know of anyone at the university who drives a yellow Lamborghini.”

“Hmm. Could be a loaner, I guess. See you tomorrow, Dr. Martell.” Tossing my hand in a half-wave, I speed-walked to the exit. I yanked open the door and raced downstairs.

In the tape room, the cartridges continued to spool from the ceiling. Jackson leaned on the desk, fiddling with his phone.

I tugged on a strand of tape. “We need to go faster. I ran into Martell upstairs.”

Jackson pocketed his phone and pulled on the other tape. “He suspects?”

“Didn’t help that you drove your look-at-me-yellow car and parked it outside. I thought you gave up on the sportscars when little Valentine was born.”

“I got it out of storage since it’s such a nice day. How much trouble will you be in when Martell finds out?”

“Technically”—I grimaced—“CASE belongs to the university. And we’re supposed to present it to Paul Swift tomorrow. So…kind of a lot?” I yanked harder. A thin ring of tape clung to the bobbin.

He didn’t blink. “Could be worse. Probably just the campus police, then.”

“Seriously?” I’d never even had a parking ticket. “Let’s hurry.”

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