Elly sighed and pushed a pink rose petal with her toe. It was the day of the BlissBride interview, a few days after she and Anthony had sketched out a very specific plan to wow Ms. Gemma Reynolds. No one had ever come for the backpack, which remained behind the door. So far, the ‘walking on rose petals’ theme was not going great. De-petaling one thousand two hundred and fifty roses—an intricate process in which one clutched a rose head, twisted firmly but gently at the same time, and then filtered the petals into a bucket—had been exhausting. Elly, Snarky Teenager, and Anthony had been left with numb hands and tired eyes. They had started scattering the petals two hours ago, and it seemed to get more challenging with each additional layer. Elly, exasperated, had instructed Anthony and Snarky Teenager to set up the table I while she had focused on covering the floor with pink rose petals. It wasn’t going well. Her back was writhing with sharp, jabbing muscle pains, and somehow she had literally petaled herself into a corner. Elly leaned against the wall and gave a sigh, her black bucket dropping to the ground.
The floor was finally perfect, a sea of soft pinks the colors of a flushed baby cheek. Anna, Blushing Akito, Charming Unique, and Titanic roses all contributed to the dewy pink floor. The layers gave the experience of walking on a bubble gum cloud. Elly looked up, hopeless, at Kim, who was lighting votive candles on the table, as her staff continued to laugh at her.
“How am I going to get from here to there without ruining everything? Arrrgh … this day sucks!” Elly took her shoes off and began slowly moving the petals out of the way and then slowly replacing them as she inched forward.
“It’s not rocket science!” screeched Snarky Teenager from the back.
Elly looked at Kim, exasperated.
“She’s been like this all day.” Kim shrugged. “She’s still mad. She’ll get over it.”
Moving her feet very slowly, Elly shuffled backwards over to the table, leaving a marked trail in her wake.
Elly made her way to the table, letting a soft smile play across her lips. “This looks incredible. Like something out of a dream,” she said as she reached out and gently touched a cream ranunculus, its green eye bursting from the center. “It really looks beautiful.”
Low, square dark glass vases overflowed with romantic cream and pink flowers. The glistening votives cast light over the water, sending sparkling particles of light across the navy table linens dotted with minimal white beading. It was lovely and modern—sparse and chic in just the right way. But the table paled in comparison to the floor, which was covered with the pink petals—a floral frosting that was impossible to look away from.
Kim glanced at her watch. “I think it’s time to get you ready.”
Elly groaned as she looked down at her feet. “I still have to fix my trail.”
Snarky Teenager stomped out of the back room, swinging her sleek blond ponytail with annoyance. “I’ll do it. Just … get out of the way.”
Elly stepped aside and watched Snarky Teenager prance across the floor like a nimble elf, fixing Elly’s ankle-deep trail. It was amazing how fast she had become at perfecting intricate details. The sea of petals became perfection under her quick moving fingers. Elly realized with a start that her moody apprentice might soon surpass her own talent. She didn’t want to think about that now. Instead, she turned to Kim. “Okay, make me attractive.”
Elly heard Snarky Teenager mumble something under her breath. Kim put her arm around Elly’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
They headed upstairs to Elly’s apartment, Elly pulling on a knee-length gray skirt and a ruffly pink shirt with a silk rosette at the bodice. Not bad, she thought, as she viewed herself in the mirror. Not bad at all. She still hated her calves and her wide hips, but the skirt hit all the right places. Look at the pretty elephant! Elly tried to force her inner critic to shut the hell up. Kim quickly pinned up Elly’s curls, letting a few bounce daintily around her face and did some minimal makeup, focusing on her bright eyes and full mouth.
Elly glanced at the clock. “Are we almost done here? They’ll be here soon.”
Kim scowled, bobby pins hanging out of her mouth. “Hold on, hold on. You are the most impatient person I’ve ever known.” She spun Elly around in front of the mirror. “Okay, what do you think?”
Elly grinned. “I look like I know what I’m doing.”
“And hot!” They both smiled.
Elly clicked down the stairs, unsteady on the tall heels that she had bought for the occasion. Heels were the worst. Anthony whistled as she came around the corner. Bells clanged, announcing that someone had entered the store.
“Oh my gosh,” hissed Elly, “they aren’t supposed to be here yet!”
Snarky Teenager peeked out the curtains. “It’s just Keith. Life is so lame.”
Elly snapped her fingers. “Hey. Be nice.”
Snarky Teenager stood in the doorway, blocking his way. “You can’t come in because you’ll ruin absolutely everything.”
Elly looked over her shoulder and waved at Keith. “Hi! She’s right, you can’t come in because of the petals! They have to be perfect.”
Keith nodded, although the look on his face suggested to Elly that he had no idea what she was talking about. “Okay!” he shouted back. “But I wanted you to have these!” He held out a tiny box of petits fours—done in navy, pink, and pinstripes. “I made these at home last night, I hope they help!”
Elly squealed as Snarky Teenager carefully brought the box over to her. “These are perfect, thank you!” she yelled back.
“I can’t wait to hear how your day goes!” he yelled over Snarky Teenager. “Elly, I think you are amazing and remember that you deserve this! You are the best they will find!”
Snarky Teenager gave a giant eye roll and looked at Elly with annoyance. “Gross. Can we finish, please?”
“Yes.” Elly gave a curt nod of her head. “I better get back to work. Thanks for these!”
Keith gave her a thumbs-up and winked at Snarky Teenager, who gave him a reluctant smile. Keith could always win her over.
Shutting the door sent creamy whirls of petals into the air with the pressure change. Anthony breathed out a low sigh. “It’s like being in Barbie’s dream.”
They dimmed the lights and lit the candles and stood back to look together at the most romantic thing Elly had ever seen. It was a modern fairy tale—a shimmering table atop a swell of soft pink, every girl’s dream. Kim turned on the stereo, and entrancing jazz softly played through hidden speakers. Snarky Teenager brushed lint off Elly’s shoulder. “Don’t forget, don’t tell any dumb jokes, like that one about the pie.”
Elly chortled. That joke was so funny.
“And don’t forget to mention the color platform and glamour integration.”
Elly nodded. “I’ve got it.”
“And don’t tell them you are dating a guy who makes sandwiches. And tell them you’re on a diet.”
Elly narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders. “I said, I got it.”
Snarky Teenager gave her one of her dazzling white smiles and pecked her on the cheek. “You’re going to do great.”
“Are you not mad anymore, not that you had a right to be?”
Snarky Teenager pouted. “Well, a little, but Anthony told me that maybe you would think about the other store if we got the BlissBride wedding.”
Elly gasped and looked at Anthony. “You are in trouble—that was supposed to be a secret!”
Anthony gave a guilty shrug. “She bribed me with a J. Crew shirt! I had to tell her.”
Elly took a deep breath, and addressed her staff and Kim who was packing up her purse. “I don’t want anyone to focus on another store right now. This could be a very important day for our business, and I want us all to have tunnel vision. Anthony, make sure you meander around and look like you are doing very important things.” He burst out laughing. “You laugh, but I’m completely serious.” She turned to Snarky Teenager. “And what do you do?”
“I stay in the back until they are
ready to go, and then I bring out their custom arrangements.”
“That’s right, just like Vanna White.”
“I don’t even know who that is.”
Elly straightened up and looked in the mirror behind her desk. “I feel like I need one of those petits fours right now.”
“No,” echoed three voices.
With chic short brown hair and a surprisingly small mouth, Gemma Reynolds somehow looked exactly like what Elly had pictured in her mind. Dressed from head to toe in black, with tight, high-waisted black pants, a fitted black military jacket, and a plunging black collared shirt, Gemma looked like an assassin. She strolled in, exuding the kind of confidence that Elly could only dream of having. Elly immediately felt insecure in the presence of this alpha female and then cursed herself for doing so. Two nameless male drones followed her in, both dressed in gray suits and carrying briefcases. One of them had a camera around his neck. Elly watched them as they parked in the street and looked up at her store with blank stares. Gemma leaned toward one of the men and pointed at something on the building. Elly saw her mouth the word “old.” She felt like crawling under the table and becoming a large mound covered with rose petals. Her stomach clenched as she tried to steel her nerves. You have been in much worse situations than this, she thought. If you don’t get it, you don’t get it. It’s no big deal. An opposing voice answered back, It is a big deal. Don’t screw it up. You spent a lot of money on these flippin’ rose petals.
“Pssssssttt!”
Elly whipped her head around to see Snarky Teenager leaning out from behind the black curtain in the back. “Smile!” she hissed. “Suck in!” And so Elly did.
As Gemma opened the door, she gave a fabulously unhindered intake of breath. Pink petals churned around her ankles and blew into the store. Elly stood by the table, which radiated elegance.
“Wow,” breathed the photographer. “Wow. Wow.” He raised his camera and started taking rapid-fire pictures. After a minute, he lowered the camera and smiled at Elly. “We’ve never seen anything like this. Ever.” He began looking at the photos he had just taken.
Gemma took off her sunglasses, revealing a stern but beautiful face. She reminded Elly of a prize-winning horse. Gemma harshly reprimanded her photographer, “You can’t talk to her. Just take the pictures.” She forced a smile onto her frozen lips. “Hello, Elly, I’m Gemma Reynolds. We spoke on the phone, remember?”
Elly cringed. “Yes, yes, I remember. I always check my phone now to make sure it’s hung up. Ha, ha.” Oh my gosh, what was she talking about?
“I’m glad. That was certainly unfortunate.” Gemma spoke every word with short, clipped pronunciation. Un-for-tu-nate. Her British accent made everything sound a little bit sharp. Elly wanted to be her. “Well, I have to say that these rose petals certainly make an, er, overwhelming visual.” She turned her nose in the air. “And overwhelming smell.”
The photographer looked around the store again. “Gemma, this is incredible! I mean, we’ve seen some amazing things in the two years we’ve been doing BlissBride, but….”
Gemma held up a hand and the man fell silent. Silence, minion. “Yes, yes, it’s very impressive. We should begin the interview. Our next one begins in forty minutes across town.”
Elly gestured to the table. “Please, sit.”
Wading awkwardly through the petals, Gemma sat staunchly, her posture rigid. She pulled a clipboard out of her suitcase and loudly clicked the pen. “So, Elly, we’ll start with some basic questions. First, why do you want to be on BlissBride?”
Elly took a deep breath and gave her rehearsed answer. “Well, I believe that our little store, one that offers brides the utmost in personalized and intricate design, would be best suited for BlissBride. Our service is based on custom design, and we have over three hundred happy brides who would testify to the fact that our bouquets are not only exactly what they asked for, but they’re absolutely breathtaking. Also, because we are such a custom florist, we will have the liberty to put our entire focus on this wedding and nothing else.”
Gemma nodded and jotted down a few notes. “Very good, although I must say it seems a bit rehearsed.”
Elly bit her lip.
“What kind of flowers do you specialize in?”
Elly paused. “I would say that we are able to morph our style to that of the bride’s, but we are mostly known for our romantic, bohemian, and garden flowers. We are big on texture and things that make women swoon, like a fully blown peony or the tips of a Queen Anne’s lace.”
Gemma wrote more notes. “Good answer.” This was going well, Elly thought, finally. “Tell me about your biggest wedding disaster.”
What? A wedding disaster? Her mind raced. Wait, what was she asking? Did she know? There had only been one. One big one. Elly stumbled over her words, letting out a gush of nervous word vomit. “Um, er … well, it’s a bit complicated. See, this last year I was hired to design my ex-husband’s mistress’s wedding. Crazy, right? So, I had this complete nervous breakdown right before, and I was dating this amazing musician, but he wrote these songs that were about my chest, which as you can see is pretty substantial … anyway, I mean, I almost went crazy before it. I threw my consultation table over and trashed my store, and drank too much wine, and broke the head off the cake topper…. I mean, I’m not sure what you are really asking…. I can totally handle high pressure. Unless I have another ex out there, or I mean, I don’t….” She gave a high-pitched giggle, like a hyena in heat. Disaster. There was no way she was going to get this. She was a kamikaze pilot, going down in flames of her own nervous making. Gemma was looking at her like she was some sort of unhinged wild animal.
“Elly!” Snarky Teenager sashayed out of the back room, looking amazing in her bright-red sundress and jeweled sandals. Gemma and both of the men sat straighter as she approached. “Sorry I’m late. I really apologize. I’m Elly’s assistant manager.” She sat next to Elly and put a hand on her arm. “Please forgive my intrusion, but what were you talking about?”
Gemma stared at Snarky Teenager with glassy eyes. “Are you a model?”
Snarky Teenager gave a laugh. “Oh, goodness, no. I don’t think they would want me.”
Gemma shook her head. “You have a face made for television.” She smiled kindly.
“Well, thank you. How is the interview coming along?”
Gemma cleared her throat. “Well, I just had asked Ms. Jordan here about her worst wedding disaster….”
Snarky Teenager gave a giggle. Gemma and the two men smiled back, entranced with the light radiating from her face. Oh, to be so beautiful…. “Oh, did you tell her about the bride that brought her dog to the wedding, who had a particular fondness for aisle decorations?”
Elly choked out a broken laugh. “Oh, I forgot about that! Yes, Ms. Reynolds, that was absolutely disastrous….” She gave Snarky Teenager a grateful glance. The interview went on. Gemma asked question after question, and with Snarky Teenager’s slight guidance and charming effect on the producers, Elly sailed through them with an easy grace.
Gemma leaned back on the chair and looked at her watch. “Well, unfortunately we are almost through with this interview. I must say, I was unimpressed at first, but I feel more, how do you say, comfortable with this shop being in the running. Of course, we haven’t seen the other two places yet, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
Elly nodded and kept saying “thank you” until Snarky Teenager planted a heel squarely in her calf.
“It’s important to us at BlissBride to have a person who is comfortable in front of the camera, someone that we can show on national television,” Gemma’s gray eyes remained on Snarky Teenager. “Someone who is calm under pressure. I need to know that you are able to captivate an audience.” She eyed Elly warily. “Do you, the owner, feel you are up to that?”
Elly nodded, a curl falling loose from her elegant updo. “I feel that our entire staff is very calm and camera-ready. And ready to captivate? Please. We hav
e great conversations ranging from philosophy,”—Anthony talking about how he thought Plato was a planet—“to current events.” If Elly was elected President, she would, after brokering a Middle East peace agreement, declare a national monster cookie day.
Gemma shook her head. “I think you misunderstand me. What I need to know is that, when the chips are down, and our celebrity is screaming in your face, that you will be able to stay calm and cool and not buckle with the cameras right in your face. These weddings are larger than you could ever imagine, and many a vendor has failed. We don’t want a wedding without flowers because someone choked. To be honest, I’m not sure that I see that here.” Elly felt an old anger stirring inside her, something ancient and deeply buried. It forced its way up inside her mouth. She stood quickly, the chair sailing out behind her, sending a poof of rose petals into the air. “Ms. Reynolds, with all due respect, last year I watched my ex-husband marry his mistress. And even though every piece of my soul was breaking, their wedding was perfection. In fact, you can see pictures of it in the St. Louis Chronicle and in Martha Stewart Weddings magazine. So if you don’t think I can handle some entitled reality star who has imaginary issues, then you are sorely mistaken.”
Gemma tilted her head as she stared up, bewildered by the outburst. Then she looked Elly straight in the eye and turned her mouth up in a half smile. Elly went to open her mouth again and then thought better of it. Snarky Teenager reached across the table and grabbed Ms. Reynolds’s hand. “Look, I know that Posies is kind of a quirky store. And it’s true, we’re a little different. Elly Jordan is superweird, but she is the best designer in St. Louis. Her flowers are intricate and gorgeous, and you will not find an equal, I guarantee it. I mean, look at these centerpieces. Look at the floor! The other florists you visit today, I can tell you what you will find: you will find something ordinary.” She sat back in her seat. “We are extraordinary.” Her eyes twinkled and Elly swore she had never seen her look so mesmerizing. She had been on a roll until she proudly declared, “And I am also extraordinary.”