“Uh….” Elly pressed herself against the side of the van, hoping that Gemma was maybe looking for someone else to scream at.
She wasn’t. “Where the hell have you been?” Gemma’s normally pristine helmet of brown hair was curling at the tips. “I didn’t even know if you would show. And what is this I heard about the flowers? I thought you would replace the original order, but your assistant told me that you are going a completely different direction then the one we discussed.” She was practically spitting now as she stalked toward the van doors. “I knew we should have hired a larger shop. You might want to think about getting yourself a lawyer. Lola would rather have no flowers than crappy—” She opened the van and her voice faded away.
Elly quietly suppressed a snarky smile. When you looked at all the flowers smushed together (carefully!) in a car, the effect was almost overwhelming, like trying to understand a Monet painting from very close up. The colors simply burst into your vision, an almost sexual explosion of delight and texture.
“I … uh … wow. Okay.” Gemma didn’t know what to say. Finally, she swallowed and her clipped British speech returned. “Well, this is certainly different from what Lola was expecting. I’m not sure how she’s going to feel about this.”
Elly tied her apron tight around her waist and pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. “Honestly, Gemma, Lola doesn’t care. This wasn’t ever truly her wedding, anyway. You came up with everything for her. Do you know I was really the only vendor she told what her true vision for her wedding was?” Elly gestured to the huge, grand theater as workers carrying a giant ice statue of a fleur-de-lis straggled past. “If Lola had her way, she would be in a backyard somewhere, wearing a linen dress, and carrying a bouquet of carnations.”
Gemma tucked back her tiny lips. “I’m aware of Ms. Plumb’s tastes. But we can’t have something like that on our show. This is a major production, Ms. Jordan.”
Elly began separating out the centerpieces, which were cluttered into small bundles. “Lola’s entire life has been a production, Ms. Reynolds, and her wedding should be whatever she wants it to be. I never thought I would say this, but I’m glad that her original shipment of flowers didn’t make it. Those flowers weren’t Lola, those flowers were you. Lola isn’t a rare breed of lily of the valley or an expensive orchid from Thailand. You are. You are elegant and straightforward, down to your bones. I get it, I love those flowers. But Lola is wilder, and more down to Earth. These flowers,” she gestured to the van, which burst forth with local blooms, “are Lola. And she will love them. And so will your viewers, if they are the right kind of people.” She pushed past Gemma, who was crossing her arms and pouting. “Now, if you will please excuse me, I have to hurry and get everything set up inside, so that I can get myself ready for the wedding.”
Gemma slipped her tortoiseshell glasses down her nose and was looking at her clipboard while tapping her foot. “What do you mean, get ready?”
“Oh, I’m attending the wedding, didn’t you know?”
She looked up at Elly. “You must be joking. A vendor has never gone to the wedding, especially one of this size, and you won’t exactly, you know, fit in. Her guests are Hollywood’s elite. George Clooney is coming.”
Elly turned on Gemma. “I will be going, because Lola invited me.”
Gemma’s wide eyes looked confused. “But,” she sputtered, “who will watch the flowers?”
At this, Elly gave a sharp laugh. “They are flowers, not children. They won’t run off if we don’t watch them. I will have a member of my team here tonight to keep an eye on things, but I plan on enjoying myself. I’m sure I’ll see you later. Now, if you will please move out of my way, I have a wedding to set up.” She sidestepped Gemma and left her standing by the van, looking bewildered. Elly grinned to herself as she walked in the door, past the lenses of a dozen cameras that had surely just caught her discussion with Gemma. She was somehow sure that their conversation wouldn’t make it past the cutting-room floor.
The floral set-up for the reception took four hours and nine people working until their hands, riddled with small cuts, cramped up and stopped working. After setting the last flower on the cake, Elly looked down at her pink rubber watch with a grimace. Not only would she not have time to go home, shower, and change for the ceremony like she had planned, but if she wanted to have a prayer of making the ceremony, she would have to leave right now. Her dress was in the car, but the rest of everything she needed was at home. It wouldn’t work. There was no way.
Snarky Teenager, who had arrived at the Fox about two hours after she had, saw Elly’s look of concern and sashayed over to her. “Go.”
“I can’t. I won’t make it. It’s fine, I’ll just catch Lola at the reception.”
Snarky Teenager grabbed a topiary out of Elly’s hand.
“Well, that was rude.”
“Go. I can handle it.”