Lizette continued. There was no trace of her Southern accent when she spoke this time. “Do not come near me…again. Do you hear me?” She turned to Elly, eyes blazing. “Call off your French Poodle!”
Ardelle snarled “A poodle? Who are you calling a poodle? Vous etes le chien! If you were an animal, you could be a lazy bovine!”
Lizette stepped close to Ardelle. “Lady, you do not know who are talking to. I am the premiere wedding coordinator in St. Louis. Mark my words, you will never work in this town again.”
Ardelle gave a sly smile. “I do not want to work in this town anyway. It is hot and disgusting. Ze moment I get my visa back, I will be off to Provence and you will still be here, chasing after brides and using glue in your hair.”
Lizette screamed at Elly. “Get her out of here! Your worker just assaulted me!”
Elly turned to Ardelle, her temper flared. “GO!” She pointed to the foyer and pushed Ardelle in that direction. Ardelle paraded proudly out of the ballroom, her head held high and her scarf flying behind her. Elly turned around, mortified. To her surprise, Lizette had already moved on the next table and was adjusting a hanging crystal as her assistant held a Kleenex up to her face.
“Um, are you okay?” Elly asked. I’m going to be sued, she thought.
Lizette turned around, still no trace of her Southern accent. “I’m fine, and I have a job to do. Actually, I kind of like that woman. She’s as crazy as a loon, but she’s got spunk. I appreciate that. She reminds me of my sister.”
Elly blinked. “Are you sure, because she, er, scratched your face!”
“You think a little ol’ scratch is going to stop Lizette Kobul from doing her job? Then you are dead wrong, Ellee Jordan. Besides, don’t you have WORK to be doing, mah dear? This ballroom looks half-done,” Lizette chirped. Her accent was back in full force.
Elly nodded, still in shock.
“Then maybe you should get to it. Lucia is not gonna like how this is looking at the moment.” Lucia’s name shook Elly back to reality. “ASHLEE!!” Lizette barked at her assistant. “If I wanted to hold my own Kleenex, I would! Keep it steady GIRL!”
Elly had barely been in the ballroom for forty minutes. She stomped out to the foyer, where Ardelle was staring at her reflection in a mirror as large as a door. She was calmly brushing her fingers through her hair and humming to herself. She was nuts.
“What are you supposed to be doing right now?” Elly asked. “What were you doing before you attacked the wedding coordinator?”
“I was moving ze low centerpieces to the tables and looking over each one, adding when necessary.” She scoffed. “Which it never is. My work is impeccable.”
“I know. Can you go do that? It looks like there are still some tables waiting for them. Also, stay AWAY from Lizette.” Ardelle stalked away, grumbling in French. Elly turned to Snarky Teeanger, who couldn’t stop laughing. “Time to work,” she said, and this time she meant it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Elly was in charge of mounting the tall centerpieces, which sat on scattered tables around the room. It was a slow process, one that was both physically and mentally exhausting. First she set down the tall gold candelabra, making sure that it was secure on the bottom and level at the top. Next came a brick of floral foam, secured by a large plastic handle and which was additionally taped and glued at the top. The white orchids dripped and bounced from the floral foam as it fell into the open slot of the candelabra. Each orchid was then checked over, and the base was covered with a dry green moss. More bright yellow mimosa was added piece by piece, until there was a brilliant explosion of white, gold and pale yellow on each table. Snarky Teenager finished the table with petite glass hourglasses – one for each place setting, filled with blown tea roses, in every pale shade of creams. They had finished ten when Elly’s phone buzzed. She pulled her taut apron up to her face, wiped the sweat from her brow and flipped open the phone. This better not be Isaac, she thought to herself, because I am going to murder him.
“ELLY?” Kim was screaming into the phone.
Elly almost dropped the bucket of mimosa. “Kim, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“No…I’m in labor! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN MANAGE NOT TO KILL US??” She let out a high-pitched wail. “Sorry. I’m in a cab on the way to the hospital. GO FASTER! I will give you a hundred bucks if you get us there in the next five minutes WITHOUT CRASHING THIS PIECE OF CRAP CAR!”
Elly inhaled. “How can you be labor? You aren’t due for another month!”
“Yes Elly, well contrary to your belief, not everything revolves around this wedding. Like this baby’s impending birth. WHICH WOULD HAPPEN FASTER IF THIS MORON KNEW HOW TO DRIVE!! ARRGGHHHH!!” Kim let out a loud bellow of pain.
Elly winced. “Is Sean with you?”