Chapter 13
Sixth Week of Faire: Romance Weekend
“Contestant Number One? If you were to take me out for dinner, where would we go?”
“Ach.” Mr. Berscotta’s thick Scottish accent reverberated across the theater. With the divider between them, it was easy to forget he was a mailman and not a seventh-century Scot. “I’d take you to the nearest Scottish castle. There, I’d have the servants light the fire to set the mood.”
A collective coo came from the audience of The Crown Theater. It wasn’t full by any means, but it was their biggest crowd yet. Lilian’s eyes swept across the benches, taking in the diverse crowd.
For Romance Weekend, there were more women at the performance than normal. But a few husbands and children filled the theater. So far, no one had gotten up and left in the middle of the performance, which was a good sign.
Mr. Berscotta was still waxing on, describing the Scottish hills and gifting her a cow, when something caught her eye.
Standing in the back was Hawk. He didn’t have his trusty clipboard with him. Instead, one hand held a paper coffee cup, which he drank as he watched the performance with a stoic expression.
Mr. Berscotta continued, his brogue reaching new heights as he proclaimed, “And I’ll hand feed you delicious haggis and Cullen skink.”
The audience laughed as Lilian feigned disgust. “Cullen stink? What is that?”
“Not Cullen stink. Cullen skink.”
“Contestant Number Two, same question.”
“Well,” came Ian’s deep Viking baritone, “I hear women like meat just as much as I do.” A strategic pause gave the audience time to laugh at the clear innuendo. “And I hear there is a good turkey leg shop down the corner.”
At the mention of turkey leg, her stomach curled in on itself. Across the theater, she saw Hawk’s dark eyes cut up to meet her own. Even though it wasn't in the original script, she couldn’t help but make a face as she shouted, “Next.”
The improvised line received its own salacious shouts of agreement from the crowd. Logan as Captain Locke let out a whoop of laughter. Hawk dipped his head down, but she was sure there was a flash of a smile.
Damn, she liked seeing him smile. All her well-rehearsed lines flew out of her head at the sight. The world fell away. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“Ms. Bodice?” Logan’s prying voice jarred her back to reality. “Do you have a question for Contestant Number Three?”
“Oh, yes!” The show. She was in the middle of a show!
Her heart was kicking against her chest as she fought to get back on script. Her eyes kept going to the back of the theater. Every line, every joke, her gaze was searching for Hawk’s reaction. The man was impossible to read.
In the end, she picked David as her one true love. As the audience applauded and the cast performed their bows, she gave one last sweep over the audience. Hawk was gone.
They crammed through the small room backstage. Clapping each other on the backs and congratulating each other for another performance well done, before moving down the stairs to the exit.
The adrenaline from the show was still thrumming through her when she saw the reason for her distraction waiting at the bottom.
“I’d say that was a success,” Hawk said, taking a sip of coffee.
“You watched?” she asked, playing as if she hadn’t met his gaze at least half a dozen times.
He shrugged. “I had to see what all the fuss was about.”
“And?”
Her heart gave a nervous jitter with the question. She braced herself for his usual blunt feedback. But Hawk merely tipped his cup at her. “You did great. I told you not to worry.”
“Holy shit.” Lilian couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Was that a compliment?”
“It was indeed.”
“And is that coffee for me, maybe?” She could smell the dark roast from where she stood.
The savory, lush aroma made her mouth water.
It could be a hundred degrees outside, and she would still down a hot cup of morning coffee without hesitation.
This morning, though, was their first taste of cooler weather.
Fall was at their doorstep, which made her craving even more intense.
“This,” Hawk said, pointing to the coffee, “is only for people not in costume. You’ll have to go pick beans and grind them by hand for your coffee.”
“Don’t joke.” Lilian pouted. “It’s not fair. We can drink bottled water, but coffee is where the line is drawn?”
“Has to be drawn somewhere.”
“Just a sip!” she pleaded, coming closer. “No one will know.”
He gave her the infamous Hawk stare down, but she’d been on the receiving end of it enough times now not to be intimidated.
She met those chocolate brown eyes with wide, pleading ones.
His face remained stone, unbreakable. Lilian thought he might actually pull the coffee cup away, but at the last minute, he wordlessly held the cup out.
Grinning, Lilian pressed her lips to the cup and took a sip. It wasn’t piping hot, but warm enough that the heavy brew slid down her throat deliciously. She moaned as it settled into her stomach. Hawk didn’t immediately pull the cup away, so she indulged herself with one last sip.
“Don’t tell anyone I did this.”
“I am a woman of my word.” She pulled back to cross her finger over her chest. Hawk’s eyes followed the movement like a predator. A different kind of heat scorched through her at the sight. Was he checking out her bosom?
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem. You heading back to the shop?”
Lilian couldn’t hide the giddy smile that tugged at her lips. “Where else would I go?”
“Mind if I walk back with you? I'm curious to see what it looks like with people actually in it.”
“Oh?” Lilian knew she should feel insulted by the jab, but all that came out was a scoff of dismissal. She playfully jabbed his arm but didn't argue as he fell in step beside her. “Prepare to be amazed!”
Margo looked relieved the moment she stepped inside. “Oh, thank god, it’s been a madhouse.”
Lilian barely managed to get out her first word before a throng of women turned toward her. The movement was so simultaneous, it reminded her of the velociraptors in Jurassic Park, and she was their next snack.
“Excuse me,” one woman said, and Lilian quickly recognized her as one of the patrons who had visited the other day. She held up her phone screen inches from Lilian’s face, showing the displayed picture. “You said something about a discount if I found Sir Debauchery?”
Lilian squinted. Sure enough, the picture showed the sweet woman grinning with her arm around David’s waist. The knight towered above her, dimples on full display.
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded. “Of course. You uh… win the discount.”
The woman let out an enthusiastic “huzzah!” before hauling her stack of books to the register, but the exchange had already drawn the attention of several other patrons.
“What was that?” another girl asked.
“Our ongoing promotion.” Lilian pointed to the display, which had miraculously grown since the day before.
A new picture had been added. Ian in his Viking costume was featured next to the hunk from a Viking TV show.
They didn’t look anything alike, with Ian’s dark brown hair and farm-tanned muscles, but it had a clear message.
Vikings were hot, and the faire had them.
“Find one of the faire hunks, and you get a discount. You just need to take a picture.”
“Find all three, and you get an even bigger discount,” Margo added from the register.
The women all looked at each other and then huddled around the wall, taking in the display. Lilian finally had a clear path to the back counter, where Margo was ringing up their first photo discount customer. “I see you added a Viking to the line-up.”
Margo laughed. “Of course. He’s in the Ms. Bodice show after all. It only makes sense to show off all your prospective husbands. Mr. Berscotta is next.”
The customer’s eyes shined at the conversation. “There’s more? I’ll have to go look. It gives me a good excuse to take pictures with the handsome men here.”
Lilian smiled. “Please make sure to only take pictures of the actors. They are the ones who are used to it. And ask for permission first.”
“Of course. And may I add, I am so happy that your store is here.” She held up her small pile of books, at least four of which were bodice ripper classics. “I’ve been looking for these, but they’ve been out of print.”
“Paperback is the only way to read them,” Lilian said with a wink. “Any new reprints won’t have the classic stepback artwork. Am I right?”
The woman let out a maniacal cackle. “So true.”
“If you’d like to pick up more, we have a little used bookstore shop in Tenison called Ten Cents.” The promotion slipped in with ease, but it came with a rush of accomplishment. It was something a real business-minded woman would do.
A visible spark of interest flickered across the woman’s face. “You don’t say.”
“This is a fraction of our collection. We have a ton of romance novels, almost three whole rows. You should drop by.”
“Tenison?” the woman said. “I think I will.” She gave her pile a satisfied pat before shuffling out.
Margo and Lilian waited until she was out the door before falling into a fit of giggles. “It’s been like that all morning,” Margo said. “There are going to be some happy ladies tonight.”
They focused their attention on the remaining customers, and at least half left with books in hand. To Lilian’s surprise, a few of the visitors had caught her show that morning and gave her praise. So maybe the show was doing a good job of advertising after all.
By noon, her newly restocked romance section had dwindled down to only a single shelf.
Lilian stared at it. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s called marketing,” Margo said beside her. “Businesses swear by it.” “Huh, maybe they’re on to something.”