Chapter Five
The first event to ever be hosted at The Prologue was The Briarvale Book Club.
I was beyond excited for all the events I had planned to host that month, but when it came to the book club, that one felt the most important to get right.
It was the idea that I had before I even signed the lease on The Prologue—the idea that led to me opening the shop in the first place.
The old Rosewood Avenue still existed in my mind. A brick road lined with potted roses and the most beautiful shops. The place my family would come every winter for Christmas shopping. The street we would spend entire summer days exploring.
Naive as it may have been to believe that I could play a role in bringing Rosewood back to its former glory, I still wanted to try.
What Rosewood Avenue lacked now, more than customers and potted roses, was the sense of community that it once had. It was a bold dream, but I hoped that the Briarvale Book Club could be the first step in repairing that sense of community.
I walked through the quiet, mostly-empty shop on the afternoon of the first Briarvale Book Club meeting. Everything had to be perfect if I wanted to get this right.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of paper in the air.
The overhead lights were switched off, instead allowing the gentle rays of sunlight to come in through the front window.
It gave the entire shop a soft golden glow.
Fairy lights illuminated the few spots that the sunlight didn’t quite reach.
The chairs were set up. The table was decorated with bookish treats and stickers. I had a stack of books for any curious onlookers and another stack of the sequel for any overly ambitious book club members.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
Just twenty minutes before the book club meeting was set to begin, Lily appeared before me with a morbid expression. “Terrible news, Jess.”
My heart sank.
“Terrible news? How terrible?”
“You tell me. How devastatingly massive of an emergency is it when a cafe runs out of whipped cream?”
“You’re kidding,” I groaned.
There were absolutely worse problems to have, but on a day when I needed everything to be perfect, it felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen.
As silly as it sounded, whipped cream was the quintessential ingredient for a good cozy drink. I couldn’t let the first book club meeting be ruined by the lingering disappointment of the members not being able to get their favorite drinks made properly.
“I wish I were,” Lily replied.
“I can’t believe we’re out already. I thought all those cans would have at least lasted us through the week.”
A feeling of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. I should have known—should have planned better. This competition with Liam was distracting me. Making me sloppy.
I shook away the thought for the time being. I had more pressing matters to deal with. Lily was still looking at me expectantly, waiting for my instruction on what we should do.
“Alright, let’s see…” I trailed off, willing myself to magically think up a solution that could resolve the situation in the next ten minutes or fewer.
An idea hit me.
It was the only real option I had, but also one that I did not want to take. I had no choice, though. It was that or nothing. So I told Lily, “I’ll be right back,” and then hightailed it out of The Prologue.
“Um, okay?” I heard her call back from behind me, confusion evident in her voice.
Walking straight into The Galaxy Gamers Cafe, my eyes found his almost immediately. He was leaning against the front counter, a bored expression on his face that promptly lit up with amusement when he saw me.
“Jessie, what brings you—”
I swallowed my pride the moment that I stepped into his shop, but the thought of asking him for anything still felt painful.
So I treated it like jumping into ice-cold water.
It was far easier to dive right in than it was to take it inch by inch.
“Can I borrow some whipped cream?” I asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.
I couldn’t stand Liam. But even as he stood there with that smug look on his face, I knew that he wasn’t a bad guy. Annoying beyond belief, but also kind. That was why I had no doubt in my mind that he would help me. Even if it came at a price.
“Depends. What do I get in return?” he asked, just as I knew he would.
“What do you want?”
Liam hummed thoughtfully in response as we began to make our way toward the cafe. “I want you to make me a poster. Like the one in your front window.”
My cheeks flushed, both at the shocking request and at the memory of how I had made a fool of myself earlier that week.
“Why?”
Of all the things he could have asked for, I never would have guessed that would be his choice. I was proud of how the poster turned out, but not in a million years would I have dreamed that someone would like it enough to request that I make one for them.
“Can I have two cans of whipped cream, please?” Liam asked his barista. She flashed him an odd expression, but nodded anyway.
“Make it three,” I said.
Liam turned to look at me, an exasperated look on his face. “Do you think I’m made of whipped cream over here?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I can make two work.”
The barista returned, two cans of store-brand whipped cream in hand. Liam took them from her before turning back to me again. “So, yes? You’ll make me a poster?”
I wanted to argue. The idea of creating something for him—something I knew would be imperfect—felt downright humiliating. But the book club was about to start. I didn’t have the time to waste on arguing.
“Fine. You can text me the information that you want on it,” I replied, not meeting his gaze.
“Okay. Your phone number hasn’t changed since high school, right?”
My face burned. Years. It had been years since we last exchanged a text message.
It had been a thing of practicality back in high school.
We were both on the student council, and so we often needed to communicate about events, but the idea that he had never bothered to delete my contact, even after years of not speaking, made me feel…
I wasn’t sure what it made me feel, but I certainly felt something.
“Same number,” I said, snatching the cans of whipped cream from his hands.
My gaze was fixed on the floor. “You really cheap out on everything, don’t you?
Your cafe might actually get a few customers if you invest in some half-decent ingredients,” I said, shaking one of the cans.
“But,” my eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment. “Thanks.”
There was something unfamiliar in his own expression. “Anytime, Jessie.”
* * *
The first-ever Briarvale Book Club meeting went even better than I had anticipated.
There was certainly room for improvement—only about half of the chairs were filled.
Still, people came. They came, they ordered drinks, they all got to know one another, and everyone seemed to have a wonderful time.
By the end, the treat table had been wiped out, and the majority of them left the bookshop that afternoon with more than a few new books.
I spent the days that followed riding a high. As stressful as it had been, I did it. Imperfect or not, the Briarvale Book Club was a moderate success. Additionally, like a reward from the universe, the next few days of my life were remarkably quiet.
Three whole days without a single accidental run-in with Liam.
Unfortunately, I should have anticipated that streak would not last forever.
“Oh, Jessie,” his voice cut through the tranquil quiet of The Prologue.
“Back here,” I called out to him, already irritated.
Annoying me was one thing, disturbing my customers was another. If he hadn’t been there to collect on a favor, I would have kicked him right out of my shop.
In true Liam-spirit, he had chosen the absolute worst time to come into The Prologue.
In the cafe, Lily was busy hosting a latte art class. It was an idea that she had pitched when I told her about the events I wanted to host.
Her starry-eyed, overly ambitious attitude was precisely why I hired her in the first place.
Nearly every shift she worked, she would have some sort of new idea.
Whether it was a better way to rearrange the cafe tables, keeping a stack of coffee recipe books by the cafe register, or a storybook-themed line of drinks, her genuine passion for the job never ceased to amaze me.
Admittedly, I hadn’t been entirely confident in the whole idea of a latte art class to begin with, but I wanted to give her a chance to really shine.
Sure enough, she had blown my low expectations out of the water.
I hadn’t expected many people to show up at all, but I was wrong.
The cafe was packed full of people eager to learn how to make fun little designs in their lattes.
I waited for Liam to find me toward the back of the shop, where I was busy stocking books in the children’s section.
But when five minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t appeared, I begrudgingly decided to go looking for him.
The shop was big, but it certainly wasn’t massive.
If he hadn’t found me within a minute or two, then he was no doubt causing trouble, which was the absolute last thing I needed.
It didn’t take long to find him.
“What are you doing?” I asked impatiently as I approached.
Liam was sitting on the floor of the fantasy section, examining the back of a book. “Have you read this one?” he asked, holding the book up for me to see.
“Does it matter? Get up off the floor.”
“Rude. Do you talk to all your customers that way?”
“Just you.”
Liam slotted the book back where it belonged and then stood up. “I guess I should be honored then.”
“Yeah,” I replied, the faintest hint of a traitorous smile pulling at my lips. “You should. Anyway, I assume you’re here to pick up your poster? Unless you make it a habit of leaving your shop unattended just to come and bother people?”
Liam chuckled. “Believe it or not, I save that habit just for you, Jessie.”