Page 54 of Trip Me Up

“The entrepreneur-slash-philanthropist. Married. Used to be a billionaire, but now that he and his wife have given so much away—mostly to organizations that support neurodivergent kids—he’s simply fabulously wealthy.”

My jaw dropped open. “Are youcyberstalkingme?”

“Just trying to get to know you.” Gabi’s smile was dangerous. “It’s not hard when your family lives in the public eye.”

I was breathing, but air wasn’t getting in. A weight crushed my chest, keeping it from fully expanding.

“I’m going with you.” Niall pried the Sharpie out of my numb fingers and handed it to Qiana.

“If Niall’s going, I’m going.” Gabi stood.

“Can I come, too?” Qiana asked. “I want to meet your family.”

No. No no no no no. Alarms blared and red lights flashed in my head.

“Sam, are you okay?” Niall was in my face, his hands gripping my shoulders. “You look—”

“I don’t think her skin is supposed to be that color,” Qiana said.

“Green. Definitely green.” Gabi sounded more fascinated than worried.

“I’m fine.” I drew myself up. I could do this. Let my pretend, new world of publishing crash into my real world. I could walk this tightrope without violating the NDA. “I don’t need you to come.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Niall said, releasing my shoulders at last. “Just to be sure you don’t pass out on the sidewalk.”

“Where are we going?” Qiana asked.

Defeated, I gave her the name of the restaurant.

“Let’s go.” She led us outside and turned left.

Niall walked beside me, not touching me but close enough that our arms would’ve brushed if he hadn’t been holding himself so stiffly. Really, it was better that way. Better that he be angry with me than that he give me one of his soft looks, like the one he’d melted me with yesterday when he apologized for breaking into my room.

Gabi walked ahead of us with Qiana, but I didn’t miss her narrow-eyed glances every time we paused at a crosswalk. Though more often than not, her dagger-sharp gaze landed on Niall, not me.

We arrived a few minutes before six, but Jackson was already there, lounging on a chair in the waiting area, eyes on his phone. He looked up when the February-cold air gusted in around us.

He beamed. “Samwise! You brought your friends.”

“No, they’re just—”

“Hi, I’m Jackson Jones.” He shook hands all around, his knuckles going white when he gripped Niall’s hand. “Table for five,” he told the host, who whisked us away into the dark interior to a round table in a quiet corner.

I sat next to Jackson. When Niall tried to sit on my other side, Jackson shook his head. “Sit there, where I can see you, Prince Harry.” He indicated the seat across from him. Gabriela and Qiana filled in the seats on either side of Niall.

Qiana gripped my hand under the table. “Something strange is going on here,” she whispered. “It’s straight out ofReal Housewives.”

“Welcome to dinner with the Joneses,” I muttered.

I picked up the menu and pretended to read it. “So, Jackson, what are you doing in New York? I thought you were on baby watch.” Their baby was due in a couple of weeks, right around the end of the tour. It was one of the many reasons I’d tossed out for Dr. Martell about why I couldn’t travel. Though when I’d told Alicia about my trip, she’d assured me she’d probably go past her due date since it was her first. I’d be back in time for the birth.

“Foundation thing today. Alicia told me I had to go. Apparently, we get ten percent more in donations when I’m there with my charming smile.” He flashed it around the table, that dazzling pirate’s grin.

On my other side, Qiana sighed. “Swoon.”

“I’m heading home first thing tomorrow morning. Ididtext you I was coming.”

I probably should’ve read that one. But I’d given up my texting time to make out with Niall. “So sorry we won’t be repeating this family reunion,” I mumbled, eyes on the menu.

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