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Go to her.
Rescue her.
“Hello,” she said, her voice wavering. “I’m, uh, Daphne. I know I’m not the, uh, person you’re here to see but, uh, Zane… Zane couldn’t be with us tonight.”
A rumble went through the crowd. Someone near him said “What the hell?”
“I’m so sorry,” Daphne said. “He—he’s unwell, and… And I know that’s a disappointment but, uh…”
He couldn’t do this. He could not stand here and watch Daphne drown in the pit he’d thrown her into. She wasn’t ready to come out as Zane. She could only claim he was sick and face the mutiny alone.
Which he was absolutely not letting her do.
Chris yanked off his ballcap, popped the lenses from his sunglasses, and strode toward the podium to save her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DAPHNE
As soon as Daphne heard there were nearly two hundred people at the event, she knew she couldn’t tell them Zane was sick. She didn’t have enough bookplates, but she also couldn’t bring herself to disappoint that many people.
And if she lied, she’d need to hide behind the Zane curtain for much longer. How could she come forward later when hundreds of people knew she’d stood at a podium and told them the author wasn’t there when the author had apparently been standing right in front of them?
She was furious with Chris for putting her in this position. Even if she’d decided to reveal herself tonight, she would have wanted him here to help her explain. At the very least, she’d have wanted him to help her work out a script and give her a chance to prepare and rehearse.
But the audience wasn’t responsible for her decision to hire Chris, and they weren’t responsible for his decision to abandon the role. They deserved the truth. Daphne just prayed she could give it.
She spent the pre-event time hiding in the bathroom. Sakura said she’d handle the staff and act as if Zane was running late. Daphne could plot her big reveal in peace… in the bathroom, hovering over a toilet and trying not to puke.
When it was time, Sakura came, and Daphne numbly followed her out. A staff member had been coached to make some vague introduction, after which Daphne would “say a few words.”
Daphne wasn’t sure how she made it to the podium. The next thing she knew, she was standing there, looking out at a sea of faces expectantly turned her way.
Expectantly awaiting Zane Remington and wondering why this woman was wasting their time.
She could do this.
She had to do this.
Her readers deserved the truth.
In the restroom, she’d quickly come up with a speech. Now she couldn’t remember a word of it. She started a mumbled mess of apologies and explanations. It would have to do. Apologize for Zane not being here, pretend he was sick, and then tell them the truth.
“And I know that’s a disappointment but, uh…” Deep breath. She could do this. “There’s something I need to—”
Applause drowned her out, and for one wild second, she thought her brain was running behind her mouth, and she’d confessed and they were applauding her. Then she noticed everyone turning… as Chris waded through the crowd, waving a hand over his head.
“Here!” he called. “I’m here.”
He strode up to the podium and grabbed the mic. Grabbed it right out from under her.
“Hello!” he called to the crowd. “I am so sorry for the delay. I was”—he held up a handful of books—“shopping. Can anyone walk through a bookstore without shopping? It’s like walking past puppies without petting one.”
A roar of whistles and cheers.
“Am I forgiven?” he said.
More cheers and claps, and Daphne stood there, her shock giving way to fury.
