Page 37 of Famous for a Living

Guests? What guests?

“I don’t mind taking her.” Half of Jax’s lips curl up in a smile.

Uncle Terry frowns. “Yeah, well, I do. Put the snake away and get back to trash duty.”

I look around the room. It’s down to Peggy—the elderly eccentric with painted-on eyebrows—and Kevin, who’s refusing to make eye contact after the words “Cades Peak.”

And, of course, Zaiah.

Uncle Terry turns to him. “You wouldn’t mind giving Catherine a look around, would you?”

No, no.

Given we seem to be incapable of normal interactions, I’ll go with the guy with the snake.

Zaiah’s eyes flicker to me, then away. “I would, but I thought I was going to speak at the meeting.”

Uncle Terry waves that away. “Miss the meeting. This is more important.”

Zaiah’s frown deepens. “On the contrary, I can’t imagine anything more important.”

Silence lingers between them for several long seconds.

Evidently, however, Uncle Terry isn’t going to yield. “I’ll give your speech.”

Zaiah looks like he’s about to interject when Terry presses on. “You show her everything. If she’s going to get us on the map, she’ll need to see it all.”

Uncle Terry gives me a proud smile that’s far too unearned and turns toward his office door.

So. The question is settled.

It’s just me and him. Again.

Zaiah plasters on something that’s a little less like a frown. Apparently it’s the best he can do.

I do likewise.

“Okay then,” he says. “Follow me.”

Chapter 6

Cades Peak

“What is it with you all and your low prioritization of body heat?”

I managed to keep my jaw shut when Zaiah marched right past the row of waiting vehicles outside the office when we left.

I stayed quiet when he started hiking twice as fast as I could through thigh-high snow.

I kept my mouth shut as we traipsed through the winter wonderland and he took a sudden turn uphill.

I bit my lip when it was only a matter of minutes before I was panting and then had to put forth all my energy into hiding the fact I was panting.

And snow fell in through the top of my boots, freezing my calves.

And my soaking-wet ankles went numb.

But finally, twenty minutes later and still no building, car, person, or living thing in sight—I snap.