Elly clapped her gloved hands together, sending a shower of dust into the air. “Yup.”
It had been three days since the camera crew had descended on Posies like a bunch of hawks. They were everywhere now, circling around the store, getting the best shots of the store, the flowers, and any drama. They loved drama. Even if it was a silly disagreement between Elly and Snarky Teenager regarding the type of vase that they would use for an arrangement, the crew wanted to film it. Not only that, but they wanted to film it again and again, like earlier this week. “Could you have that conversation again?” the cameraman had asked.
“What?” Elly had scowled at him. “Are you serious?”
He raised the camera and lifted his fingers. “In three, two, one.” The all-knowing eye of the camera seemed to know that Elly was a hot mess right now. Home wasn’t a safe place anymore, with Dennis sulking about like a pissed-off ghost after he returned from being gone all day, and Elly tiptoeing on eggshells, not wanting a repeat of their earlier argument. She wasn’t sleeping very well. Every morning when she looked in the mirror at her bouncy golden curls and bloodshot blue eyes, she saw a face without hope. What she had with Keith was gone, really gone. Each line on her face radiated disappointment. And then there were the cameras. The freaking cameras. They were always there. Even when she worked on her computer, she would look up to see a camera in her face and smile uneasily, thinking that this was probably the worst idea ever. The cameras had captured a dozen embarrassing events so far: Elly slipping in front of her desk, Elly slipping in front of the cooler, spilling hot chocolate on her laptop, a multitude of regrettable curses, dropped buckets, broken vases, a candle burning the corner of some burlap ribbon, and Elly walking into a screen door. After each incident, she had turned kindly to the cameraman and said, “You will cut that, right?”
Greg always shook his head. “This is great TV. You can’t create this kind of … stuff.”
“Awesome.” The chaotic state of the store reflected the state of Elly’s life at the moment. She gave a sad smile as the rain began coming down in torrential buckets around her. Let’s be honest, she thought, the whole world looks as messy as my life right now.
Anthony walked up beside her and began rocking back and forth on his feet in the rain, knocking his gloves together. “It’s been awhile since I was up at four a.m. I am pumped for this!”
Elly looked over at him and rolled her eyes. She wished his enthusiasm was contagious. Anthony looked down at her. “Are you wearing actual overalls this morning? Did you drink before you came here?”
Elly brushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes as the camera zoomed in on her. “Oh, how I wish that was true.” Elly heard the front door of the store slam shut and suddenly, Snarky Teenager burst through the backdoor, looking ridiculously amazing for their early delivery. Tight black yoga pants sat firmly on her slim hips, and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt rested easily on her slim shoulders. She had huge sunglasses pushed up on her perfectly layered hair and was wearing—Elly peered at her through the torrential rain—false eyelashes.
“Oh my gosh!” Snarky Teenager squealed as the cameras turned toward her. “I keep forgetting there are cameras here! I didn’t even get ready! I’m not wearing any makeup!”
“Mind if we test that with a towel?” muttered Elly, utterly drenched and utterly miserable. The truck landed in a puddle, sending a splash of dirty water up on Elly’s legs. She walked out into the rain, gesturing wildly. “Okay, pull in here! That’s good!”
The truck driver walked out and slammed his door hard, shoving papers in Elly’s direction. “This is the largest shipment to a single shop that we’ve ever had.” His words were a bit slurred. “Sorry I’m late. I got stuck in the traffic in Nevada, and then again in Denver. Kansas was a nightmare.”
Elly was barely listening to him as her eyes scanned the shipping list. “Well, it looks like it’s all there. I see that Mary threw in fifteen extra bunches of the bleeding hearts, that’s nice. Tell her I appreciate it.”
The driver squinted.
Elly peered up at him. “Mary? Your boss?”
“Oh, right.” He shrugged and then swiftly walked over to the back of the truck. Elly was hit with a potent blast of icy air as the truck gate flew open. Towering piles of boxes stared back at her, each meticulously stacked and coded for unloading. She felt the cameras recording her every move and so she hiked up her wet overalls and reached for the first box with feigned enthusiasm. “Okay, people, let’s do this!”
Thirty minutes later, Elly, Anthony, and Snarky Teenager all looked at the massive pile of flower boxes on the design table, the floor, the shelves, and in the backroom and hallway.