Chapter 6: The Shop Opens

By Thursday noon there were forty people in line outside Velvet Hour.

Shawna had propped the door open with a box of gift bows.

"Somebody posted the wedding photo," she said. "The judge in her glasses. You in the green dress. Your husband looking at you like you're dinner."

"He did not."

"He did a little."

"Is that why they're here?"

"They're here because the caption says, Billionaire Marries Local Toy Shop Owner."

She handed me a fresh apron.

"Also because you're hot, and people are nosy."

I tied the apron on over my dress.

I had the photo from Reginald's driver in my pocket, and it burned there all morning.

A woman at the front of the line held up a lavender rabbit.

"Is this the one you designed yourself?"

"It is."

"I'll take three."

I rang her up.

Then I rang up the next woman, and the next, and by one o'clock the register tape was a yard long.

It was the best day Velvet Hour had ever had, and I couldn't stop watching the door.

Brent came in at ten past one.

He walked straight through the line.

He was wearing the navy quarter-zip again.

"Lilia," he said, in the voice he used to use at dinner parties, warm and a little sad. "We need to talk."

"We don't."

"Two minutes. In the back."

"Anything you say, you can say here."

The customers had gone quiet.

A woman with a stroller turned her whole body toward us.

Brent looked at them, then back at me.

He dropped his voice, but not by much.

"I was in the room when you signed that paper. I know it's a contract."

"One word from me to the press, and your billionaire loses his company."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's an offer. Come back to me. We'll run the shop together, like we were going to. I'll keep quiet, and you keep the money."

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