Page 1 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
CHAPTER ONE
Girl-Boss Princess
“Your paperwork says you’re here about a small business loan.” The bank manager looked up from the file folder on his desk, and his gaze flitted immediately to the tiara sitting atop Gracie Clark’s head—the ridiculous, rhinestone-bedecked elephant in the room. “Your, um, Majesty?”
Nervous laughter bubbled up Gracie’s throat. Of all the days to get stuck at work for over an hour past the time she was supposed to leave, why did it have to happen today?
“Again, I’m so sorry. I fully planned to go home and change before this appointment.” Gracie was beginning to sweat beneath the velvet and lace bodice of her costume, and she was pretty sure she had a dollop of pink buttercream frosting in her hair. Occupational hazard and all that. “Children’s birthday parties don’t always go according to plan.”
The bank manager, who had introduced himself as Benjamin Curtis, was a befuddled, grandfatherly-type man dressed in suspenders and a tweed suit. Although, admittedly, Gracie’s attire might have been the source of his befuddlement. Somehow she doubted his other customers showed up for their loan interviews dressed as fairy tale characters.
Mr. Curtis’s gaze traveled slowly from Gracie’s glittering crown to her big, dangling earrings and down the length of her thick, cinnamon-brown braid. The pattern on the heavily bedazzled bodice of Gracie’s ballgown reflected back at her from the lenses of his bifocals, glittering like an icy winter kaleidoscope. This meeting was getting more awkward by the second.
“It’s Your Royal Highness, actually,” Gracie said in an attempt to lighten the mood with a bit of regal humor.
Mr. Curtis’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kings and queens are addressed as Your Majesty. I’m not a queen.” Gracie felt her smile begin to falter. Maybe playing along hadn’t been the best idea. This man was one of the few remaining bank officers in Denver who had the power to change Gracie’s life. Not just hers, but the lives of her employees as well. “I’m a princess.”
“Indeed you are.” Mr. Curtis’s eyes darted to the paperwork and back again. “Princess Snowflake.”
“I’m kidding, obviously. I’m a businesswoman and a performer, not an actual princess. You definitely don’t need to call me Your Royal Highness.” Gracie squirmed beneath the weight of endless yards of snowy white tulle.
Mr. Curtis nodded, but the lines in his forehead seemed to grow deeper. Gracie could practically see the future she’d envisioned for her company vanishing into thin air.
She straightened in her chair. “Perfect Party Princesses is a costume character business. We provide a variety of fairy tale princess characters for children’s birthday parties, school events, weddings, tea parties, and corporate gigs. Pretty much any sort of occasion where guests would appreciate a dash of royal fairy tale magic.”
The bank manager tilted his head. “Weddings? Brides and grooms actually want princesses at their marriage ceremonies?”
“Sometimes they do, yes,” Gracie said.
She wondered if he’d ever seen an episode of Fairy Tale I Do, the popular reality show about couples getting married at theme parks around the world. Gracie and Clara—her best friend, roommate, and business partner—loved it. They watched it every Thursday night with pepperoni pizza from their favorite delivery place in Cherry Creek. Last week, the show had featured a couple who’d gotten married at Cinderella’s castle in Disneyland Paris. On Christmas Eve. It had been très magical, but somehow Gracie doubted Mr. Curtis was a fan.
The loan officer didn’t have a single holiday decoration in his office, and Christmas was less than a month away. For a girl who made her living as a snow princess, that seemed like a giant, Scroogey red flag.
“Anyway.” Gracie cleared her throat. “I started the business a little over four years ago. At first, it was just me, as Princess Snowflake. Then my partner Clara came on board. She works on publicity, social media, and scheduling. As the headline performer, I’m the face of the company, and I train all of our other princess characters as well.”
Clara had been Gracie’s best friend since elementary school. The first successful business they’d started together had been their lemonade stand in second grade. Gracie had been responsible for creating the product, and Clara had taken charge of their marketing, mostly in the form of colorful handmade posters and securing a prime location near the entrance to the subdivision where both their families lived. Their business partnership followed pretty much the same dynamic to this day.
“Our gross income has quadrupled in the past two years.” Gracie sat up a little straighter. She was proud of how far she’d come, proud of the fact that she provided a great hourly wage for princesses who were mostly struggling college students and young single moms. She’d worn out three bedazzling tools in the process of affixing crystals to the dress she was wearing. She’d started out as a twenty-two-year-old in a frothy princess gown, and in the span of just four years, she’d built a successful business. No Fairy Godmother required, thank you very much. “We currently support eight part-time staff members in addition to Clara and myself.”
“That’s quite impressive,” Mr. Curtis said.
Gracie relaxed ever so slightly. Maybe being forced to show up in her Princess Snowflake costume hadn’t been as disastrous as she’d feared it would be. At least the bank manager who possibly held the future of her business in his hands was getting a chance to see her handiwork up close and personal. Gracie made all the costumes for Perfect Party Princesses herself, on the same Singer sewing machine she’d been using since her mom taught her how to sew back in high school.
“We’re in the perfect position to expand. A small business loan would allow us to move our business operations to a more professional office environment.” Translation: they were running out of room in the small mountain cabin they rented from Clara’s aunt and uncle. The dining room was beginning to look like a tiara museum. But that wasn’t even the biggest issue. “As you’ll see from my business plan, another of my goals is to transition my part-time staff to full-time employees with benefits. I believe Perfect Party Princesses can make a positive impact on the community and empower young women along the way.”
She loved the girls who worked for her, and she wanted to do right by them. Pasting a smile on your face and doing your best to make children happy wasn’t easy when you were worried about health insurance or what might happen if you fell off your glass slippers and got injured. Gracie knew what those struggles were like, and she didn’t want to pass them along to other young women, simply because she was their boss.
She beamed at Benjamin Curtis, willing him to approve her application. If she’d thought the plastic magic wand her Fairy Godmother character used had any real power whatsoever, she would’ve gladly brought it along and sprinkled the bank manager’s office with a generous dose of Perfect Party Princess pixie dust—which was actually just a combination of fine silver glitter and baby powder that Gracie and Clara mixed together in their cabin bathroom.
Then again, if Gracie had been in possession of actual fairy dust, she wouldn’t need a business loan, would she?
Mr. Curtis’s gaze strayed once again to her ballgown, billowing beyond the confines of her chair and threatening to take over the small office in all of its shimmery glory. Then he sighed.
Gracie crumbled inside.
No. Please, no.
