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“Oh, she won’t be home for hours,” he said, with a casual glance at the aggressively masculine digital clock. “She’s got the—” He broke off with a curse and sprang away from me.

“What?” I sat up in alarm. “What is it?”

“The festival.”Will began tearing around his bedroom, throwing on clothes—and tossing my own clothes at me. “I forgot.We’ve got to get to the book festival!”

Chapter Thirty

LITTLE BRIDGE BOOK FESTIVAL ITINERARY FOR:JO WRIGHT

Sunday, January 5, 10:00 a.m.–12:00 p.m.

- Farewell Brunch and Reading -

With Clive Dean, Jerome Jarvis, Victoria Maynard, Garrett Newcombe, Jo Wright, and Bernadette Zhang

Moderated by:Molly HartwellWill Price

Library Auditorium

Meeeeee-OW!

“What is thatungodlynoise?” Will asked as we ran up the library steps.

“My ringtone.” I’d only just remembered to turn my phone back on.

“What sort of ringtone is that? It sounds like a cat being boiled alive.”

“I will have you know that that is an official Kitty Katz ringtone made just for members of the Kitty Katz mobile fan club, and only a very select few own it.”

Will’s tone was dry. “I can see why.”

Meeeeee-OW!

“Stop being rude.” I put one hand on his broad shoulder to steady myself as I peered down at the screen of my phone and slipped my foot back into my mule, from which it had become loose, at the same time. “Twelve unread texts! Will, I think we’re in trouble.”

Will was squinting down at his own phone. “Twelve? I’ve got twenty-two. What could be happening in there?”

When we got inside the lobby, we saw that only a few people were still milling around outside the auditorium, where a brunch of coffee, tea, and “authentic Cuban breakfast foods,” like guava pastries and cheese toast, were being served from the library’s café.

“Aw,” I said. “It’s so brave of the library to allow patrons to eat inside their brand-new facility.”

“That was a bone of contention during the festival planning,” Will said. “Let me tell you—”

“Jo!Thereyou are!”

Bernadette came clacking toward me, looking relieved. She was dressed, as usual, in the height of urban chic, this time in pleather leggings, high-heeled booties, and a hip-length cheetah-print shirt. “Why haven’t you been answeringyour phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for—” Then she saw Will.“Oh.”

“Sorry we’re late.” I wasn’t going to get into it with her, especially in front of Will, though I could tell from her ear-to-ear smile that she wanted me to. “Have things started already?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bernadette could not seem to stop smiling. “I mean, the author bus never came, so we all had to walk over here from the hotel, but—”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Will said. He was blushing as pink as the bougainvillea he’d put in the vase on my breakfast tray. “It’s all my fault.”

“I’ll say it is.” Bernadette, still smiling, was giving us both the once-over. “Jo, aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing last night?”

Now I was the one blushing. “Shut up, Bernadette.”

“No, I mean, you look good, but most of the people in there were at the party last night, so everyone is going to know. Plus, you have beard burn all over your neck.”