Well Played (Well Met #2)(53)

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I thought I’d miss my phone more than I did. Every summer, I got in the habit of locking my phone in my glove compartment when I got to Faire. Some people carried their phones with them, either in a belt pouch or in the bottom of a basket, always turned off. But I knew the temptation to pull it out would be too great for me, so I didn’t bring it inside at all. My hands usually felt empty those first couple days. I fully expected it to be worse this summer, since I’d grown more and more attached to my phone over the past year. How many times had my friends kidded me about it, or flat-out threatened to stage an intervention? But now that I was here, strolling the grounds in my new costume, trying to figure out who this new Beatrice character might be if she wasn’t a plain tavern wench, my need for my phone faded away quickly. It didn’t belong here.

It helped, of course, that the main reason for my recent phone addiction was right there, all day, close enough to touch. If I missed him, I could just slip over to the Marlowe Stage and say hi. So I indulged myself a few times over the course of the day, and from the way his face lit up whenever he saw me, he was as glad to see me as I was to see him.

Bringing our relationship out of cyberspace and into real space took a little getting used to, but I couldn’t deny the thrill that went up my spine now every time Daniel’s eyes caught mine. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, the way Dex was. Daniel wasn’t Hemsworth-esque in the least. But his glass-green eyes shone whenever he looked at me, and my skin heated up whenever his hand brushed mine. There was something so genuine in his smile that echoed the sincerity in the words we’d exchanged all this time. Last year he’d just been a casual friend, someone I’d looked forward to saying hi to every time he came through town. Now we were only two days into this year’s Faire, and he was already the best part of the season.

I learned really, really fast that there was more to life than Hemsworthiness.

I dropped by the Marlowe Stage at the end of the day once pub sing was over, but Daniel was talking to his cousins, and they all seemed very focused. I didn’t want to interrupt that, so I slipped out the way I’d come in. I knew how to get hold of him, after all. Sure enough, by the time I got to my car and retrieved my phone, it was lit up with texts. Based on the time stamps, Daniel had sent them throughout the day, the way he’d threatened to.


I really love your new costume. You look so good in bright colors.


Dex has called Frederick “Freddy” six times already this morning. I think he may be going for a record.


Okay, this isn’t nearly as fun when you aren’t allowed to have your phone. I’m doing all the texting in the relationship these days.


But I’ve gotten to see you twice already, so I suppose it’s a fair trade-off.


Freddy tally: eleven. I predict a wrestling match in the parking lot after Faire.


Twelve Freddys now (Freddies?), and he’s threatening to quit the band. Do you know how to play drums?


I’m going to need to have a band meeting with these guys after Faire today. I really wanted to see you tonight, but it looks like that’s going to be delayed. Let me know what your schedule is like this week. Dinner sometime?


Hurry up and get your phone, will you? I haven’t gotten a text from you all day.



My giggle expanded into a full-on laugh as I read through all the messages, my car getting hotter and hotter as I realized I hadn’t turned it on yet and the air-conditioning wasn’t running. I was still laced into my costume, even. Texts from Daniel rated above oxygen, apparently. I remedied that, starting the engine and cranking the air as cold as it would go before loosening my bodice. I took a good, deep breath as my fingers flew over my phone’s keyboard.


You KNOW I can’t have my phone during the day. I told you that.


I do not know how to play drums. Don’t you? I bet you’d look great in that kilt. You’re taller than Freddy though, it’d be a miniskirt on you. Hmm. I could be into that.


Sunday night after Faire is Jackson’s night! Come out and sing karaoke with us! I’ll be there for a bit, text me if you think you can make it.


I have book club on Thursday night, but otherwise I’m free.


You’re going to Simon and Emily’s wedding next weekend, right?



Once I’d sufficiently blown up his phone in retaliation, I put my car in gear. Time to go home, shower off, feed the cat, and get a pizza at Jackson’s. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. I loved this time of year: the camaraderie, the long days, the nights out where every Sunday night felt like a cast party. Having Daniel be part of it now made it that much better.



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Seven nights, six days, four workdays, three after-work evenings with Daniel, and one girls’ night out/half-assed bachelorette party with Emily and April later, it was Sunday of the second weekend of Faire. Simon and Emily’s wedding day. Or wedding evening, since there was still a day of Faire to get through first.

I woke up early the day of the wedding, but I was still running late somehow, so when my landline rang, I groaned out loud. I was half-dressed for my morning at Faire and juggling all the stuff I’d need to turn into a bridesmaid later that day. I loved my mom more than just about anything, but I really didn’t have time to talk to her right now.