Chapter 12
Sixth Week of Faire: Romance Weekend
“What happened to this place?” It was the first thing out of Margo’s mouth as she stepped into the shop Saturday morning. “Did HGTV swing by to do a renovation, and you didn’t tell me?”
Lilian snorted at the accusation. “Please. You know I would call you if that were the case.”
“Good. Because I would skip work in a millisecond if that happened. Fuck the kids. Art is subjective. Give them paper and crayons. I’m dispensable.”
“You are not dispensable.”
“Fine, you’re right. But seriously, what happened here?” Margo spun on her heeled boots, taking in the new finishings of the shop.
Garlands of fake wisteria, lilies, and other flowers decorated the shelves and the ceiling, along with a string of twinkling fairy lights. It transformed the small space, not only making it more welcoming but covering up all the once bare walls.
“Branding,” Lilian answered. “You were right. This place needed a little something. I went out and bought some decorations. Hawk let me in yesterday so I could clean and decorate.”
“Hawk did, hmm?” Margo gave her a lingering side eye that Lilian ignored.
She’d been only a little surprised when Hawk had agreed to open the faire to her early Friday morning so she could revamp the shop.
He’d left her to work, saying he had his own business to attend to in the faire’s office spaces.
The fact that he hadn’t felt the need to supervise her was a strange type of compliment.
And when she’d finished, he’d given it an approving nod and a dignified, “Not bad.”
Indeed, her shop no longer looked like a shabby shack selling books. It looked magical. Even Russ gave a low whistle of awe when he walked by.
Adding the flower decor not only brightened the space up. It also went with the theme for the weekend.
Romance Weekend was by far one of the faire’s most successful. The grounds overflowed with flowers from every rooftop and banner. Roses, sunflowers, lilies, daisies… it was as if the largest outdoor wedding was happening in the middle of the Flint Hills.
This was the only week visitors could sign up to renew their vows or have a private ceremony. A beautiful section was roped off in the woods to allow for a semblance of privacy. People went wild for it.
At the same time, the actors were encouraged not to hold back with their flirting.
Though everyone was required to attend a forty-minute seminar on the difference between flirting and sexual harassment, complete with strict warnings, should someone cross the line.
Knights gave out roses to guests. Wenches offered delicate handkerchiefs.
And there was a Joust for Love that only happened on Romance Weekend.
If there was ever a time for Lilian’s shop to shine, it was now. Since her visit to The Pretty Pages, she’d thrown herself into preparing for this moment. She had Margo design flyers and handed them off to the gate staff with instructions to pass them out to every visitor.
No longer would she be known as just Ms. Bodice. She was Lilian Brody, Duchess of Deadlines. Baroness of Business. Princess of Productivity.
At nine o’clock, the gates opened, and the first trickle of guests came in.
Ten minutes ticked by. And then another. Their location at the back of the faire meant it took a while for guests to appear along their path.
“The gates just opened,” Margo said, as if reading her thoughts. She was standing by the poster wall where she’d hung up the flyer, alongside David’s Sir Debauchery. A poster of Logan as Captain Locke was side by side with Jack Sparrow and the same tagline, Hunt the Hunk.
The new flowers and fairy lights draped around the wall highlighted what was once a dark corner. Now it looked like a colorful shrine to the good-looking men of the faire.
“I know I—” Lilian stopped herself short as a group of people came over the hill side. A group of women. All dressed in a smattering of corsets and dresses.
Lilian held her breath as the group came closer… closer… and then one’s eyes found her shop. The girl stopped, looked down at a familiar piece of paper and grinned. “Guys, this is it.”
“Bodice and Brawn.” One laughed. “I love it.”
Lilian refused to breathe even as the group stepped into her shop, filling it entirely. They all exchanged polite smiles as the women oohed and ahhhed. Their eyes caught sight of the 18+ sign Hawk had made her install that first week, and they beamed.
“This is the right place,” a woman commented before making a beeline to the romance section.
“Oh, man, these are ancient!” a girl with an elaborate corset of what looked to be dragon scale said. She couldn’t have been older than twenty.
“Look at this. Pirates… Knights… Vikings.” Another laughed, tilting a crocheted witch cap up so she could get a better look. “This is amazing.”
“Excuse me!” A blond girl wearing pastel fairy wings called. It was the one who had pointed out the shop from the path. “Can you tell me how steamy these books are? They don't fade to black, do they?”
Lilian blinked at her. Fade to black? Her mind faded to black, because she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Margo gave her a friendly nudge, and it rebooted her brain enough for her to remember to talk.
“Oh! They are… um, definitely steamy,” she blurted out.
What else could one say about the incomparable works of Johanna Lindsey?
There was so much. Yet she was drawing a blank. Sell! her brain screamed, You have to sell this to them!
She opened her mouth and began to babble, “I mean, that is romance history right there. The romance scenes might not be as graphic as modern-day novels, but they were a testament to their time. Oh my god, the euphemisms.”
The girl was staring at her and didn’t exactly tell her to stop. Lilian did what she did best. Talk about books.
“What kind of stories are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. I guess I like darker romances. I haven’t really read much of these bodice rippers.”
“Well, the one you're holding is definitely what one might consider a dark romance,” Lilian said.
The girl glanced at the cover, which had beautiful curling script and a picture of a castle in the mist. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Her stepbrother kidnaps the hero and forces her to have sex with him. And then when the hero breaks free, he reverse captures her and basically holds her hostage.”
The other women in the store stopped talking and stared at her.
Only when Margo muttered a quiet “Jesus” did Lilian realize how insane the whole plot sounded out loud.
God, she was going to scare these customers away.
Or worse, give Hawk a conniption when someone accused her of peddling rape fantasies.
She almost excused herself when the girl smiled at her. “All right, you’ve convinced me.”
Really? She managed not to utter her disbelief out loud before the other women were on her, each stating the tropes and subplots that they were drawn to. And for the next hour, Lilian found herself scanning the shelves for the perfect book for each woman.
The day only got busier from there. A steady flow of visitors began to make their way to the back of the faire and into her small shop. Mostly women, all clinging to the flyers as they scanned the shelves. By noon, there were beautiful book-sized spaces on her shelves.
“Looks like the flyers are working,” she told Margo with a smile.
“Of course they're working. They were a great idea and a great design.” Margo winked, but even she looked giddy to see the customers coming in and out of their space.
“Excuse me,” one woman said from the fantasy wall.
Lilian scuttled over to assist her.
“What happens if I find the knight?”
“I’m sorry?” Lilian blinked before she realized that she wasn’t hovering near the fantasy books but by the wall with Margo’s wanted posters. The woman was pointing directly at the poster of David in his knight garb.
“It says Hunt the Hunk. What happens if I find him?”
“Oh.” She had no clue. Lilian turned to Margo, who gave a confused shrug. No one had asked them that before. Her friend’s posters had been a fun way to decorate the space. But that answer wouldn’t impress the guest.
“Don’t let opportunities pass you by.” Hawk’s advice from the other day echoed in her mind like medieval church bells.
“If you take a picture with him, we’ll… give you a twenty percent discount,” she offered.
The woman’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yep.” Lilian nodded. “But you have to bring the picture here for proof.”
“Deal.” Her eyes lit up at the challenge.
Lilian locked eyes with Margo from across the room. Her friend seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing Lilian was. Maybe the flyers weren’t the only thing they could do to help the shop.
The crowd had them working through lunch, and Lilian wouldn’t have it any other way. By noon, the sun had brought back the summer heat even though it was the first week of October.
Alex stopped by briefly, but when she saw the constant stream of customers, she grinned and left with her band of female pirates in tow.
It was hours before they had a break, and Lilian dipped out to fill up their water bottles.
All the weddings and vow renewals were tucked into an area near the Reject Woods, far from the noise and rabble of the main faire. She had to walk past it on her way to the nearest water stop. Curious, she stopped by the flower arch that marked the entrance.
Not far down the path, a small group of people stood among the trees.
A narrow man-made stream ran alongside the trail, adding to the soft ambience.
A man dressed in black held the hands of a woman in a beautiful cream-colored gown.
Her auburn curls were adorned with a glittering silver crown.
Together, they looked like an ethereal fantasy couple.