Chapter 22 #2
“Dying?” Her mother laughed, squeezing her tighter.
Her hand cupped Lilian’s cheek, gently easing her gaze up until they were looking at each other.
“No, honey. I wanted to give you this because you’ve earned it.
This shop is as much yours as it is mine.
More so, given all the work you’ve put into it.
It is yours to do with as you like. If you want to increase the prices, you can do that.
If you want to sell only fantasy novels, by all means go ahead. If you want to sell it…”
“Sell it?” Lilian repeated.
Beatrice gave her a knowing smile. “You can if you want,” she finished. “It’s yours now. Do whatever you want. I don’t know what is marketable. Or how to make a profit. If we need to turn this place into a cowboy-themed coffee shop to get customers in, then let’s do it.”
The cracked heart, her aching chest. All the pain ceased with her mother’s encouragement. It was a healing salve. Mom magic. Her fingers clung to her mother’s hand like she was five years old again. “Mom, I am so grateful, but I don't know.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s yours!” Lilian said. “This place is its own thing. I love it, really, I do, but it’s not mine to run.”
Well, that made no sense when she said it out loud, but it was the truth. She'd spent a lot of time in the shop. Years! It would always be her mother's, a sacred space where Lilian felt comfortable, but it wasn’t hers.
Not like Bodice and Brawn.
Another ache of grief hit her at the memory. She swallowed it quickly, unwilling to let it ruin this moment.
Beatrice nodded as if all her rambling and tears made complete sense. “Well, then, make it yours.”
“What?”
“Get rid of everything. Turn it into a bakery, for all I care.”
“Mom, no. That's not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” Her mother flashed her another smile. “You need this to be your store. All right, then do it.”
“You don't mean that,” Lilian said in disbelief. Ten Cents Books had been her mother's baby. How was she all right with giving it to Lilian, who would completely change it?
“I do.” Beatrice pushed the paperwork toward her gently. “It's yours to do with as you wish. If you don’t want it… I suppose we can—”
“No,” Lilian practically shouted.
Her mother smiled. “I know this place gave you meaning in your life. You want to—no, you need it to be a success. And that won’t happen here in Tenison. And that’s okay. What matters is that this place is yours to do whatever you want.”
She looked back down at the piece of paper. It was so small, a single paper that was likely part of a stack of official documents, but this was the one she had to sign.
And then the shop would be hers.
She wouldn't need to dwell on the loss of Bodice and Brawn. She could revive it, not at the faire but as a real shop. Lilian swallowed hard.
It would mean more work. Starting over. Rebuilding. Taking a risk.
No, taking an opportunity.
It stung that even in this moment, Hawk’s advice haunted her. And that it was so damn applicable.
She reached for the desk drawer, dug around until she found the heavy ink pen. One of Hawk’s from the nights they’d spent developing her business plan. Lilian signed her name in large swooping letters that looked as imposing as they were beautiful.
An invisible weight lifted from her shoulders. The cloudy, cold day outside didn’t feel as imposing. “This is going to be a lot of work.”
“We’re here to help you,” her dad said, handing her a cup of champagne.
She took it, and they clinked the plastic in celebration.
“What are you going to do?” Margo asked, her legs crossed on the old wooden armchair, iced coffee in hand.
It was Thanksgiving break and the first time Margo and Alex had time off from school to come visit.
Margo’s hair, freshly dyed pink, looked extra colorful when compared to the dreary plain walls and dark carpet of Ten Cents Books.
Alex looked cozy in an oversized brown knit sweater.
“I don’t know.” It had been a week since she’d signed the paperwork officially making her the new owner. And she still had no idea what to do.
She’d nearly driven herself insane weighing the pros and cons. Keep Ten Cents Books as it was or transform it into something entirely new. “I’ve put so much work into this place already.”
“Yeah, but if it isn’t making money,” Alex offered quietly.
That was the crux of it. No matter what, she kept coming back to the core problem. It wasn’t the shop. It was the location.
In her heart, she knew what she had to do.
Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she could text Hawk and ask his opinion. The heat of her anger has faded into smoldering ashes. Her heart, though, still ached.
Some mornings she woke with her muscles screaming, as if the sheer weight of the heartbreak had worn her down overnight. Even now, when her friends greeted her with a hot black coffee, she couldn’t help but pine for the days when Hawk had been the one surprising her with the thoughtful treat.
“I think,” she started slowly, “I’m going to say goodbye to Ten Cents Books and bring Bodice and Brawn to the real world.”
It was the first time she’d said the words, but now that they were out, it felt… right. She knew there was no other option for her. Bodice and Brawn had been her baby. And she knew, had known since the moment she’d put the sign above that cottage, that it was bound for success.
Margo gasped, nearly spilling her coffee in the process. “That’s amazing. I was really hoping you would say that!”
“I still have no idea how I’m going to go about it. But I’ve been researching, and I think I have a way forward.”
“Yeah?” Margo leaned over the work desk where Lilian’s laptop sat open with twenty million browser tabs.
She flipped through them, looking for the tab that hosted all her interior design plans. “Well, I love romance novels—you know that.”
Both heads nodded sagely. “Of course.”
“But I think I still want to sell fantasy books. They do well, and it will widen the customer base. Plus, we’ll stay true to the original integrity of our store. One side for romance, the other side for fantasy and… what?”
Margo and Alex were grinning, not at the laptop screen but at her. “Nothing,” Margo said sweetly, “just thinking about what a boss bitch you’ve become.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, you’re in your element. You’re practically glowing,” Alex added. “You’ve really grown the last couple months.”
Glowing? She’d felt anything but since that last day of the faire. But she wouldn’t say no to the compliment.
“Oh, before I forget.” Margo pulled her tote into her lap and began to rummage through it. She pulled out a box the size of a photobook. It was slender and lightweight as she handed it into Lilian’s awaiting hands.
“What is it?”
“A congratulations present,” Margo said. “From all of us at the faire.”
“Congratulations for what?” Lilian gave her a skeptical look.
“For this!” Margo threw her hand toward the shop, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And because Bodice and Brawn was nominated for best new addition at the faire this year.”
“What?” Lilian stared at her. “Since when?”
Their grins faded.
“Girl, haven’t you looked at your emails?” Alex asked.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been avoiding the outside world.”
Margo rolled her eyes. “They asked everyone to vote for nominees weeks ago.”
She sniffed. “It’s just a nomination.”
“That you are going to win!” Alex said with her entire body.
Lilian gave her friends an appreciative smile. Their optimism was much needed among the stressful days. She held up the package and gave it a shake. “That’s nice of you to say, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. B&B won’t be at the faire next year.”
“But it will be back,” Alex corrected. “Just open the box! I’ll wait.”
Lilian gave her friends one last scrutinizing look before she pulled open the box’s lid. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t the familiar silvery fabric of one of Russ’s dresses. “No,” she whispered as she got a better look at the material.
It was the dress.
The one she’d coveted since the moment she’d seen it. The one that looked exactly like Penelope’s for the Dark Elm Ball.
She carefully pulled the fabric out, holding it high enough the hem wouldn’t touch the ground.
The silvery threads absorbed the artificial light of the room, making them glisten like diamonds.
It was just as gorgeous as she remembered.
The plunge down the middle was as deep as she remembered, down the front and the back, making it the definition of sexy.
Whoever wore it would be exposed but would look like a million bucks while doing so.
Russ had added thin, vine like fabric down the long sheer sleeves.
Thick emotions choked her at the sight of it. “I… can’t afford this.”
“It’s a gift.” Margo reached into the box where a crème-covered envelope lay under the dress. “And so is this.”
Her fingers shook as she flipped the envelope open.
Inside was a slender piece of paper, not a card but a ticket.
To the Dark Elm Ball. The words You’re cordially invited…
shimmered metallic green. The letters curled across the page on top of a beautiful rendition of the Great Oak from Nightingale’s series.
“You can’t accept the win if you’re not at the ball,” Margo said. “And Cinderella can’t go to the ball without a dress. Russ wanted me to tell you the dress is only a loan, but I say he won’t be back in the local area until next year, so you can keep it until then.”
A strange sensation threatened to overwhelm her. Carefully, she put the dress back inside the box. “I can’t go.”
Margo’s smile fell, transforming into a no-nonsense stare that surely had been pointed at one or two uppity elementary school students.
“Lilian, no. No excuses. I’ve already talked to your mom.
You need—and deserve—a break. We are all getting a hotel in Kansas City, we’re going to get our hair done, wear amazing poofy dresses, and we are going to have the best fucking night of our lives.
No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Do you understand? ”
“But I don’t know if I can see him.”
There was no need to explain who he was. The king was always at the ball. It was another court for him to rule over. Even if she was receiving an award, the thought of being in the same room as him made her chest tighten with anxiety.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Alex said. “No one’s heard from King Asshole since the last night of the faire. Apparently, there’s an investigation going on for his behavior. I don’t know all the details, but Hawk is doing everything he can to fix the damage Marcus caused.”
Lilian closed her eyes at the mention of Hawk. She remembered how he’d been helping his parents. How she’d asked if he was going to the ball.
He’d never answered the question.
“This ball is themed for The Raven King because of you! You gave the queen the book that inspired it. You can’t let your broken heart steal a moment that’s a once in a lifetime thing.”
Margo’s words were as strong as steel. Unbendable. Lilian knew better than to try.
She nodded mutely, still in shock that her friends had gone to such lengths. “Thank you,” she whispered, but it didn’t feel strong enough to express the momentous wave of emotions rushing through her.
Margo pulled Lilian in for a hug. “When our hearts are broken, we only need to take care of one person, ourselves. That doesn’t mean not showering and wallowing in pity.
It means wearing a revenge dress and living our best life.
I know things feel hard right now, but I want you to feel some magic again and not give up. ”
“I’m not giving up.” She sniffed. “Really. I’ve never been more excited in my life.”
The words were true. She’d given up on going to the Dark Elm Ball, given up on Bodice and Brawn, and now both of those things were within reach again. Something she hadn’t felt since those first few weeks of faire blossomed inside of her. Hope.
She could do this.
She would do this.
And she was going to have a damn good time.
“Good.” Margo grinned, her eyes misty.
“Thank you,” Lilian said again. “For this. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me,” Margo said sternly. “Seriously. I am not responsible for this.”
Lilian shook her head, knowing that couldn’t be true. Margo and Alex had been her biggest supporters since the beginning. Without their creative influence, the shop wouldn’t have been nearly as successful. And now they were helping her again.
Margo was right. Wallowing didn’t help her. It only fed her indecision. Now she was a boss bitch with a plan.
Go to the ball and have the greatest fucking night of their life! And after that, open a kick ass bookstore.