Chapter 7
On Friday, the day of the book signing, I’m especially busy shepherding the newly arrived out-of-towners towards a cozy read for their weekend stay. Jillian comes in after lunch and helps calm the chaos.
I’m in the middle of helping a sweet woman from Denver find a “gripping but not too intense and preferably no children harmed” crime novel when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn to find a willowy woman with sleek black hair and round tortoise shell glasses.
Standing next to her is another woman in a brightly patterned orange pantsuit.
The outfit would make most people look like a pumpkin, but on her it looks amazing.
I recognize the tall woman instantly and do my best not to dissolve into a fan girl.
“Katherine! You made it. I hope you didn’t mind the long drive,” I say, offering her my hand to shake.
She smiles demurely and takes my hand. “Thank you for having me. The drive was lovely, especially since someone else was doing all the driving.” She has a light British accent that I could listen to all day.
“Hi Paige, I’m Jessa,” the woman in orange says. “We’ve been emailing back and forth the past couple of weeks. The pictures online don’t do Pages justice.”
Jessa. Katherine’s head of marketing and publicity. She should teach a Master Class in how to word emails with the precision of a Kitana blade. Our online exchanges felt like a dance I didn’t know the steps to.
“Thank you, this was my grandmother’s store. She put a lot of love into these shelves. Let me show you both to my office so you can get started.”
I lead them to the back office where I’ve already set up a signing station on my desk. Katherine thanks me and I’m tempted to lurk in the doorway to watch her / maybe get up the courage to ask whether Lyndon and Skye will ever bury the hatchet, but I leave her to sign in peace.
The Katherine Webber is in my bookstore.
I simply cannot believe that I, Paige O’Flynn, purveyor of Pages Booksellers, made his happen.
Even though I’ve been running the store for years now, it still sometimes feels like I’m playing dress-up and should have an adult supervisor making sure I don’t go off script.
Quite a prescient internal observation considering I did nearly flub this reading by ordering the wrong book. Cue self-effacing headshake.
The woman I’d been helping before is waiting patiently at the register with a couple titles, so I rush back over to ring her up.
“So sorry to keep you waiting!” I say, slightly breathless.
“No problem! I love any excuse to browse your store longer. Just curious, was that Katherine Webber?”
“It was, yes!” I hand her a flyer from underneath the register. “We’re hosting a reading tonight at 6:30 of her latest novel, Windswept. Please come if you can.”
“I just love her books—I was a wreck after reading The Withering Light.”
“Oh my god, I know! The part when Lyndon confronts his mother about what happened during the blood trials? I sobbed,” I say, my face screwed up in mock desperation.
The woman laughs and takes the bag of books from me. “She knows how to pull on one’s heart strings. Well, considering my only plan tonight was cracking a bottle of wine and one of these,” she says, indicating her new purchases, “count me in!”
This right here is one of my favorite things about owning a bookstore—it’s so easy to find people who share the same love of stories that you do.
At 5 o’clock, Jamie and Bethany arrive just as I close the store.
They’re both juniors in at Silvercreek High and occasionally help in the store during our busy season.
I’d enlisted their help weeks ago when I was in a DIY meltdown.
Bethany, who’s a brilliant crafter, helped me finish the station map that is the backdrop of tonight’s event.
Jamie designed and laminated over sixty punch card passes that we’ll pass out as keepsakes.
Jillian and I bust our asses moving the display tables around so we can set up folding chairs. Jamie and Bethany work hard transforming the rest of the store. Jo arrives shortly after, lugging the catering from Cheri’s, with a sleepy looking Kody trailing along behind her.
“Mini wellingtons was a smashing idea, Paige. I admit, I sampled one… maybe two… on our way over,” Jo says, holding up her hands in mock defense.
“Someone fell asleep on the drive over so I gave her an extra ten minutes in the car, and no one can blame me for what happened. One should never be left alone with a box of mini wellingtons.”
I take the boxes and bags from her arms, laughing, “I don’t blame you in the slightest. Thanks for grabbing these.”
“Holy shit. This looks incredible!” Jo exclaims, fingering one of the garland displays on the check in table.
“I brought some flowers, but it looks like you might not need them. Kody, go sit behind the register, love.” Jo ruffles her daughter’s hair before heading back outside.
I finish setting up the appetizer table and touch up Katherine’s book displays scattered around the store.
Jo comes back in with a beautifully colorful arrangement of terra cotta roses and wildflowers.
“Jo, they’re gorgeous. You’re my hero,” I say, giving her a one-armed hug. She places the bouquet on a small table next to the overstuffed armchair we dragged in front of the rows of folding chairs—the perfect final piece to our set up.
People start arriving around 6pm, and life becomes a blur. Lots of smiling, familiar faces mixed in with a surprising number of people I don’t recognize. Katherine clearly draws a wide audience.
I’m in the middle of strong-arming a stubborn easel into a standing position when a throat clears behind me. I turn to find Jessa waiting.
“Hi there! Does Katherine need anything?” I ask, giving the easel another yank.
Jessa smiles. “No, Katherine’s got everything she needs. The store looks wonderful, by the way. You really outdid yourself!”
“Thank you,” I grunt out between clenched teeth. Finally, the easel unlocks and I hear the satisfying click of the tension rod sliding into place.
“There’s just one thing,” Jessa says, her eyes glancing around the store.
“You did mention you’d have a Lyndon at the signing, correct?
We pushed that hard on socials and when I went outside to check on the line of attendees, lots of people were disappointed there wasn’t a Lyndon in character to greet them. ”
I bite the inside of my cheek, kicking myself mentally. “Yeah, I’m so sorry but our Lyndon had to bow out last minute. Food poisoning.”
Jessa frowns, “You didn’t have a backup Lyndon scheduled just in case?”
I wince internally. “I’m so sorry, Jessa, but I’m sure once everyone waiting sees Katherine, they’ll forget their missing Lyndon photo-ops in no time.”
Jessa cocks a disapproving eyebrow at me. “I doubt that, but here’s hoping. Please don’t disappoint me, Paige.” Jessa turns and disappears back into my office.
Crap. There’s no time to shame-spiral though. Everything else has to be perfect if Jessa is ever going to forgive me for bungling up her social media content quota.
At 6:45, Jo and I team up and start corralling people towards the chairs. The store is packed, with plenty of people forced to make do with standing in the aisles of bookshelves.
This is easily the biggest event I’ve ever hosted at Pages, so it’s not surprising that my hands are shaking as I step up to introduce Katherine.
I’ve never been comfortable with public speaking, and I can already feel my face begin to flame.
You’ve got this Paige, short n’ sweet. ‘Please join me in welcoming Katherine Webber, my new bff.’
Just as I’m filling my lungs with a steadying breath, an impossibly tall, impossibly blue figure walks through the door. His face, neck and chest, or at least the part that is visible through the deep V-neck of the poet shirt, are bright cerulean. I hear a few gasps from around the store.
Jo must have twisted his arm real hard to get him to re-agree to doing this after I was such an ass to him at the hot springs.
Shayne should look ridiculous. Anyone else in blue body paint wearing a flowy linen shirt would.
Shayne, on the other hand, looks spectacular.
No one has a right to look this good painted blue.
The paint sets off the richness of his black hair and positively transforms his eyes, which I can’t believe I once thought were black.
They’re gleaming sapphire orbs, lit from within by a flickering blue flame.
A real-life Fae Prince has wandered into our midst.
“It’s Lyndon,” a hushed voice says.
Shayne cracks a smile, his teeth a shocking flash of white. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get the damn portal open.”
Laughter bubbles up from the crowd. Shayne makes his way through the onlookers, tossing smiles left and right like he was born to cosplay a giant sex-god.
When reaches the check-out counter, he and Jo share a look, and I can tell that she’s doing her best to hold in her laughter.
She punches him lightly in the arm and he rolls his eyes at her.
“Thank you, Lyndon, for choosing to grace us with your presence,” I call over the buzzing of the crowd.
When Shayne finally meets my gaze, his expression shutters and he gives me a barely perceptible nod.
My stomach clenches. Is he mad at me? Shit, stop it, Paige.
Who cares if Shayne is mad at me? Tonight is about Katherine and establishing Pages as a must-visit for the bookishly-inclined.
“Now that our party is complete, we can begin tonight’s event!” I call out over the din, my voice shaking slightly. “I hope you’ll all join me in welcoming Katherine Webber!”