But maybe not this time.
THIRTEEN
The Faire wouldn't opento the public for another hour, but the grounds were already buzzing with vendors setting up, performers running through routines, and security doing their rounds. Ben ran the polishing cloth over the chainmail one more time, even though it didn't need it. The steel rings gleamed in the Saturday morning sunlight. Perfect. Just like it had been perfect fifteen minutes ago when he'd checked it the first time.
Ben’s phone sat on the workbench, screen dark, but he kept glancing at it anyway. Charlie's last text had come through at six-thirty that morning.
On our way. See you soon
It was now seven-twenty-five. She'd be here any minute.
Ben set down the cloth and picked up his phone, scrolling back through the week's worth of messages. Brief exchanges, mostly. Charlie texting between shifts, during Viv and Rowan’s interviews, late at night when she finally had a moment to herself.
Tuesday, 11:47 PM:
Long day. Radio interview ran over, then two podcasts back to back. Viv's a trooper but I can tell she's exhausted.
You holding up okay?
Yeah. Just miss having someone to talk to about normal things. Like which dipping sauce goes best on Strippers.
Definitely Jerk Sauce.
YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!!
I’m dying right now. Literally cannot breathe.
Wednesday, 9:23 PM:
Denver Post interview went well. Rowan's good at this stuff. Very smooth.
And you? How are you doing?
Fine. Keeping Viv safe. Easy days.
That's not what I asked.
I miss being up in the mountains. Does that sound weird?
Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.
Can't wait for Saturday.
Me neither.
Friday, 10:47 PM:
One more day. You ready for tomorrow?
Chain mail's polished. Embersword sketches are done. Rowan's going to look like a proper king.
She’d paused a long time before texting again after that response. Then:
That’s not what I was asking.
To see you again? Yeah. That goes without saying.
I’m glad you said it anyway. Because I can't wait.
