She looked at her watch. Four ten p.m. With a weary sigh, Elly Jordan straightened her spine and walked straight into the heart of chaos.
The store had imploded. All the boxes of dead flowers had been removed and thrown haphazardly into the back. The floor was littered with buckets of every size, and any wall-shelf space had been utilized to hold the shorter flowers. Rows and rows of fuchsia and pink ranunculus, white lilac, boxes of stephanotis, and zinnias in every possible shade and texture of pink made the walls of her store appear like a hollowed-out valley of flowers. Multihued vases pressed up against the lush blooms, a kaleidoscope of colored glass and natural beauty. The sparse blues were clustered up against a bunch of anemones that had seen better days. It was beautiful and busy all at once. It also looked a lot like chaos, and the cameras were no doubt drinking it all in.
“You’re back!” Snarky Teenager stepped out from behind a pile of buckets.
Elly almost laughed out loud. Her assistant had never looked worse. Her normally pristine blond hair was in a tangled knot directly on the top of her head. Her makeup had obviously been sweated off hours ago, and she had stress bags under her eyes. One hand clutched a grande coffee, and the other was strangling some innocent Spanish pink freesia. In short, she looked like Elly every day of her life. You know, give or take like eighty pounds.
“You’re home! You’re home!” She bounced over to Elly and threw her arms around her with abandon. “Never leave again.” She turned to Dennis and wrapped him into a tight hug as well. Dennis looked as though he might die from happiness. “I’m glad you are safe. Also, I’m going to kill you later.” Dennis would surely be counting down the days.
With determination, Elly pulled her curls back into a bun and grabbed from the wall her light-blue apron adorned with apples. She clapped her hands loudly and her busy store hummed to a stop. Three cameras turned her way and a boom mic floated overhead. It had pollen smudged on it. Elly grinned. “I want to thank everyone here for designing hard all day. I know we had a bit of a crisis, but I think that with all our talents combined, we can make this an incredibly creative event. I’m going to come around and see what you are doing, and then once I see what is needed, I’ll jump in there.”
The store exploded with cries for help. “I can’t figure out what we should do for centerpieces without the garden roses!”
“One bridesmaid wants jewels in her bouquet—where are those? What are they?”
“The anemone bouts keep dying.”
A hilarious accent peeped up from the back. “Zees colors do not complement each other the way they should. My creations are masterpieces, and these ugly shades eez not helping them. It eez not appropriate for a florist of my competence….”
Elly closed her eyes in the cacophony of rising panic and let a vision unfold before her eyes. Her fingers twitched as, in her mind, she pulled different combinations of flowers together. She saw an eclectic collection of all shades of pinks, and all types of flowers. It was beyond definition. This wedding wouldn’t be “vintage” or “chic,” it wouldn’t be “modern” or “lush,” it would be all of those things. It would be just flowers, in their natural beauty. They wouldn’t be sculpted or meticulously arranged, they would be perfect in their contrast and shades of different textures. You couldn’t make something into something it wasn’t. Their natural state was best.
They would be just like Lola.
Elly opened her eyes and trained her gaze on a colossal mess in front of Anthony and Kim. “Let’s start with the centerpieces. I’m thinking ombré shades of wildflowers.”
They both stared at her. “Ooh….” Hadley let out a delighted cry from inside Kim’s sling.