Chapter Text
She stared at the dark charcoal clothbound cover sitting on the desk. She ran her fingertips along the beautiful foil-stamped design. The Picture of Dorian Gray is one of her favorite reads, and she just finished her seventh re-read of the 1890 Oscar Wilde classic. Finished just in time for closing the bookshop at exactly 9:00 pm. Her eyes went to the wall clock next to the mystery and thriller shelf.
8:45 pm
Fifteen more minutes and she was free to head home. Officially, she was off the clock at 9:00 pm. Realistically speaking, she had to close the register, balance the books, turn off the lights, lock the shop, pull down the roller shutters, and then head home. So yes, 10 pm.
Her cellphone lit up with a text from Hazel.
Current level of panic: 10. So much to do before the wedding and I feel like I wasn't able to accomplish anything today. Help needed. By help, I mean I need a drink and I need to rant. What time are you free?
So much for that relaxing bath she was hoping to end the night with. Hazel has been panicking on different levels the entire week, which was understandable since she was getting married this weekend. She couldn't imagine getting married to anyone at this point of her life, but then again, she was just very single but not so willing to mingle.
8:55 pm.
She picked up her phone and quickly typed a reply.
I'm closing shop in 5 mins. Want me to come over?
Sophie started putting things away so she did not need to stay a minute longer in this place. She loved her work and the people she worked with, but a full-day's shift on a busy Friday was exhausting. Considering her shift next day starts at 10 am, on a Saturday, she needed the sleep.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her phone screen lit up with another text from Hazel. At the same time, the bell on the door chimed to signal that someone just walked in. Sophie's eyes looked at the time on her phone — 8:59 pm. Shit. Technically, the shop was still officially open.
"Welcome to Ink & Intuition," she said in a monotone. Hopefully it was still professional-sounding and not as blasé or annoyed as she actually was.
"Sorry about the last minute visit."
Oh, shit.
She knew that voice even if she had her eyes closed. But her eyes were very much open and openly-gawking was she at the Benedict Bridgerton.
Tall, athletic build, broad shoulders she could sit on (don't ask), muscles where muscles should be. His dark brown curls were long enough to touch his nape, and which she would love to run her fingers through and give it a rough tug (again, don't ask). He had a swimmer's build, from which Sophie surmised he was excellent at the sport. She wasn't sure, if only because her existence only mattered to him inside the bookshop. He was a regular customer, and to him, she was just the shopkeeper he exchanged hi's and good day's with, along with the occasional have a nice day.
"It's no problem at all," she said in a soft voice. "What can I help you with?"
"I reserved a book last Tuesday," he responded with a shy smile. "I spoke with Irma…?"
"Ah," Sophie said as she reached for the stack of books on the reserved pile. She held up a copy of Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. "Here it is."
"There it is," he replied with a smile. He noticed the standard yellow sticky note on the cover with his name written neatly in cursive. He also noticed the time when he pulled out his phone to check his messages. 9:05 pm.
"So sorry again for dropping by so late," he said as he slipped his credit card back into his black leather Tom Ford cardholder. "Have a good night."
And then he was gone before she could form a reply — just like every other time he was in the shop and exchanged a couple of sentences with her. Hi, hello, goodbye. It was a sorry attempt at a conversation, considering she had been nursing a big, fat crush on Benedict Bridgerton since forever. By forever, she meant three years.
"So now I'm in the middle of a seating chart drama just because my Aunt Amy has declared war with my Aunt Meredith."
Sophie could feel Hazel's stress from a mile away. She wanted to support her friend and be there for her as a sounding board, even if it was past 10:30 pm and needed sleep badly. She placed a hand on Hazel's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Just switch Aunt Meredith's seat with your Uncle Tom. Problem solved."
It wasn't a difficult problem, really. But at the state her friend was in — frazzled, perplexed, overworked — she was bound to treat every minor snag as a colossal catastrophe.
"Oh God. That's perfect."
"See? There's nothing to it. You just need to take deep breaths and stop overthinking things. Just take a break from planning. Maybe take a walk, grab a snack, call John…and when you return to the task, everything would be clearer."
"Enough about me," Hazel declared with better spirits. "How did your ten minutes with Benedict Bridgerton go?"
"It didn't," Sophie murmured. "He walked in, paid for his reserved book, then walked out. Just like all the other times he walked into the shop."
Hazel sighed. "I keep telling you. I can ask John to set you up with Benedict, if that's something you'd like?"
Sophie jumped from her seat and backed away from the sofa. "Don't you dare, Hazel! Benedict Bridgerton and I have absolutely nothing in common. That would just be setting me up for heartbreak and disappointment." She reached for her purse and checked her watch. "I have to go, Haze. I have to be at work early tomorrow."
Hazel rolled her eyes but let it go anyway. "Fine, fine. Just think about it and let me know, okay? You know full well that John is Benedict's produce supplier at his restaurant. And he will be at the wedding. He can set you up if you want him to."
So John Footman, Hazel's fiancé, is the produce supplier at Iron & Oak Steakhouse. It was the restaurant Benedict co-owns with his brother Colin, and their friend Will Mondrich. It was how Sophie knew Benedict. John recommended Ink & Intuition to him because Benedict is a voracious reader and had been asking for book recommendations. The first time he stepped into the shop, Sophie was immediately smitten. Tall, great built, kind eyes, nice smile. Great smile.
But that was the extent of their relationship. Benedict Bridgerton is absolutely out of her league. He comes from Mayfair royalty, grew up between family estates and posh townhouses, and his circle of friends ran businesses, dated celebrities, and hosted chaotic art gallery openings. Sophie, on the other hand, grew up in a broken family dynamic, which made it difficult for her to trust people effortlessly. And while Benedict ran a sophisticated yet welcoming restaurant, Sophie worked at a cozy, quaint bookshop in the middle of busy Mayfair.
They moved in two different social spheres that them meeting in the middle felt nearly impossible.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Stop overthinking, Haze. I mean it."
"Love you, Soph. Thanks for coming over and letting me rant."
"Love you, Haze. You're welcome to rant any time."
Her phone had been buzzing with messages from Hazel. She was helping customers out at the shop, and at the same time ringing up their purchases. She only picked up her phone once the last customer left.
Ok, two cars are still available for a ride to the wedding venue. My Uncle Tom can take one more passenger. Second car is Benedict's.
Sophie typed so quickly then hit send.
I'm riding with Benedict. How can I let my date ride with someone else hehe.
Her cackle died once she re-read her message and saw the group chat name: Hazel's Wedding Guests
She immediately shot Hazel a text, her face heating up in embarrassment upon realizing the entire guest list read her message. She was too preoccupied to check on which chat she was replying to. What was worse was that it was too late now to delete her message because everyone already saw it. By everyone, she meant Benedict Bridgerton included.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
GIRL. I'M DYING. ARE YOU AWARE YOU SENT THAT IN THE WEDDING GUESTS GROUP CHAT???!!!
Her thumbs flew across the keypad as she typed a reply. She checked the group chat name again before hitting send.
I am beyond embarrassed. I didn't notice I wasn't sending the reply to just you. But it's too late to delete it now. What do I do?!
Sorry, Soph. Benedict might have to take you as his date now. You gave him no choice lol.
Kill me now.
No can do. You can't abandon ship. Your date would miss you.
Great. She is going to have to brace herself and explain to Benedict Bridgerton how he has managed to get caught in the middle of this mess. Assuming, of course, she lived to see the weekend without dying of mortification first.