Elly in Love (The Elly Series) (24 page)

Elly looked at her watch. Today was
not
the day to pick on Elly Jordan. “Actually, I’m right on time. At least, according to American time.”

Gemma pushed the door open as she gave Elly a bewildered look. “We’re right inside. We just finished filming Lola’s reaction to the venue—
surprise!
, she has seen it twice already—and we are just wrapping up our shots of her and the venue coordinator talking.”

Elly was confused. “So, if you are finished filming, why am I here?”

Gemma looked at her like she was the stupidest person she had ever seen. “You and Lola are coming up with her floral plan for the wedding.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. Or do you not do site visits with your clients?”

Elly could feel her temper rising. “No, we do, I was just under the impression that this would just be a walk-and-talk kind of thing.”

“Well, I’m sorry, you were misinformed. The caterers have prepared a nice lunch for you guys in the Griffin restaurant.”
Oh. Well, at least there was lunch.
“Lola has a strict vegetarian diet, so I hope that’s fine with …,” she eyed Elly up and down, “you.”
Oh, well, there went that.

“I have to run to my car to get a consultation sheet,” said Elly. Gemma gestured to the door. Elly stalked back to the car in the dripping heat. Stupid Gemma. Stupid Dennis. That’s what this was really about, wasn’t it? She flung her cardigan into the backseat. Well, today a movie star would have to deal with her chunky arms and saddlebags.
Too bad.
By the time she arrived back inside the Fox, Gemma was heading out—
thank goodness
—and Lola was waiting for Elly at the top of a long, red staircase, like they were in an old Hollywood romance. Only, in this romance, the heroine was an alcoholic, and the hero was a chubby woman with a new brother who did
nothing.

Elly slowly climbed the grand stairs, making it up much faster than she should have.

“Hey, Elly!” Lola seemed a bit better today, if still a little fragile. She was wearing a short black dress with a checkerboard top. The dress only had one sleeve, and swooped loosely over her chest area. Huge red stilettos almost blended in with the red stairs. Her strawberry blond hair was piled loosely on top of her head, holding a gigantic pair of white sunglasses firmly in place.

Elly felt suddenly undressed. And Dennis had said her hair looked crazy. Crap.

“Elly!” Lola wrapped her in a unexpected hug. She was a tiny person and practically folded into Elly like a delicate piece of origami. Elly felt bones in Lola’s back. “I’m excited for our consultation. I have
so
many great ideas that I have been discussing with Joe.”

Elly let out a long breath. “Wonderful! I can’t wait to hear them. I have my consultation sheets right here.” She held out the crumpled papers. “Sorry. I didn’t know we would be making actual decisions today.”

Lola gave her a kind smile. “That okay. Gemma’s a little scary.”

Elly suddenly liked her immensely. “She totally is.”

They sat down in the empty Griffin dining room, filled with tiny winged gargoyles, white linen tables, and expensive-looking stemware. The lights were dimmed. The whole scene was intimate—and sort of creepy. Elly looked around. “Do you always have to eat alone like this?”

Lola gave a nod. “We can’t really go anywhere without being mobbed or photographed. Mostly, we try to stay in, but I get cabin fever really quickly.” She looked down. “I’m hoping it goes away when we’re married. Who would care then what we do?”

Everyone
, thought Elly, with a generous dose of sympathy. She smoothed out her papers as the waiter walked over. “Hello, Miss Plumb. My name is Hurley. What can I get for you today?”

Lola bit her lip. “Could you do a garden vegetable soufflé, braised artichokes, and an eggplant parmesan?”

The waiter bowed. He
bowed
! “And you … Miss?”

“Jordan,” Elly replied.

“And what can I get for you?”

Elly looked around. “I think I might need a menu.”

“Oh, no menu for you. We will make you whatever your heart desires.”

Elly’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

He grinned. He had a cute face. “Seriously.”

Elly thought for a moment. What she was really craving was a sandwich and a kiss from Keith, but unfortunately, those weren’t offered here. “Okay, Hurley, how about a petite sirloin with sautéed mushrooms, braised artichokes, and … Georgia pecan pie?”

He gave her a dazzling grin. “Of course, ma’am.”

Elly looked at Lola, disoriented and amazed. Lola looked bored, twisting her signature red hair into a braid. The waiter drifted silently back into the darkness of the kitchen. They were alone. Elly cleared her voice, ready to do what she did best. “So, what are you thinking for your bridal bouquet? After all, that’s the foundation of your flowers.”

Lola fidgeted. “What does Gemma want me to have?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what Gemma wants.” This was not entirely true.

Lola looked back at Elly and then gave a giggle. They were conspirators. “Really?”

“Really.”

Lola sat back. “Well, you know my colors are navy-blue pinstripes with a bright pink, right?”

“I do.”

Lola bit her fingernail. They were chewed to nubs. “Well, I love wildflowers. I like those white and pink carnations a lot.”

Oh dear
, thought Elly. “Okay. Any other flowers?”

“I like lily of the valley.”

Now we’re talking
, thought Elly. “I think the combination of the peonies and the lily of the valley would be
stunning
. Stunning and simple and elegant.”

“I like those because they bloomed in my yard growing up. Dahlias, too. And delphinium. Then, I thought we could spray or dye them hot pink and navy. Like, every other one?”

Elly stared back at Lola.
Oh no.
She tried to compose her face into a mask of approval. “We
could
do that. Or, we could just use maybe bright combo of the flowers with a navy wrap….”

Lola shook her head. “No, I like the dyed hot pink and navy flowers. And I was thinking that we could put like, rhinestones in each one? Plus, if we do the centerpieces made of navy flowers with diamonds, I think that would be really pretty. What do you think?”

How could she not have seen it?,
Elly wondered as she looked at Lola anew. Behind all her makeup, designer clothes, and professional team of yes-people, Lola was still a small-town girl, dazzled by bright things and small dogs and silk glitter flowers
. In short, she had questionable taste.
No wonder Gemma was trying to take over the design.
When someone dressed you every day, how did you know what your real style
was
? How did you develop your own preference for anything, let alone flowers? Lola Plumb appeared to be a designer-clothing model, but inside she preferred to wear Kmart.
Of course.

Elly sat back in her chair. She had to approach this gently. This wasn’t the first time she had been asked to do something that appalled her design sense. “Navy-blue roses aren’t a natural color in the flower world. We would, indeed, have to dye or spray them, and that can look,” she paused, raising her eyebrow gently, “cheap.”

Lola ran her fingers over the water glass. “But you can do it, right?”

Elly gave a slow nod. “I can, but it’s not something we do on a regular basis.”

Lola looked offended. “Well, I am not a regular client.”

Elly immediately sensed that she had stepped over some invisible celebrity line. “You are right. We can do whatever your heart desires.”
Even if your heart’s desire is
unnatural.

“Good. For the bridesmaids, I was thinking, like, pink carnations, delphinium, and then maybe some of those swirly glitter sticks?”

Elly inwardly cringed.

“I just love the way that looks. And you can match the guy’s bouts for that. Joe loves amaryllis, can you do that for a bout?”

“Amaryllis is a very big flower—that could make for a really, really large boutonniere.”

“Oh, Joe doesn’t care about that. I would love one of those in navy blue. They are wearing khaki linen suits, so it will stand out
.” Yes it will
, thought Elly.
Like a sore thumb
. “For the ceremony, I love those big white calla lilies. I think the ceremony should be all whites and pinks, with the reception all navy.”

“All navy?” Elly nervously started gathering the white tablecloth in her fingertips. There was not one,
not one
true navy-blue flower in existence, to her knowledge. There were darker cornflowers, hydrangea, and delphinium, but those weren’t navy. Not even
close
. Elly forced herself to continue the consultation.
This wedding is going to be impossible
, she thought. “What were you thinking for centerpieces?”

Lola pushed back her hair, her bangles clinking together. “
So
. When Joe and I were in Morocco, I saw this tiny little hookah shop tucked back behind this mall area. They had the most beautiful little silver shisha pipes. I bought one, just to own, but I think that I want those to serve as an inspiration for the centerpieces.”

“You want to have actual hookah vases on the tables?”

Lola gave a shrug. “Maybe. I’ll leave that up to you—I trust your talent, Elly.”

The compliment made Elly’s ego inflate with pride, like a balloon expanding in her chest.
Lola Plumb thought she was talented! Too bad everything would be hideous
!

“Also, I was thinking maybe we could have little Chihuahua statues on each plate?”

The balloon deflated. Hurley appeared beside the table, white china plates of steaming hot food in his hand.

“Miss Plumb.” He put down a gorgeous assortment of dishes in front of her.

“And for Miss Jordan,” he set down a mouth-watering steak, artichoke, and a perfect, tiny piece of pecan pie.

“Thank you.” They began to eat in silence. Elly, ravenous, made quick but polite work of half of her steak and mushrooms. When she looked up again, Lola was motioning for the waiter.

Hurley stood by the table. “Is everything okay, miss?”

“It is, I’m just done.”

Elly stopped, mid-chew, her fork hovering in the air. Lola had maybe taken three bites of everything she had ordered. Her eggplant parmesan sat virtually untouched.

Elly motioned with her utensil. “Are you done already? You barely ate anything!” She instantly regretted being so bold.

Lola gave a sad shrug. “I’m full, I guess.” Elly looked at her with disbelief. Lola fidgeted with her hair. “Well, okay, I’m not full, I’m actually
starving
, but I can’t eat very much. The last time I put on five pounds, I was on the cover of
OK!
Magazine. They said I was pregnant.”

Elly remembered a recent story she had read about Lola, claiming she was anorexic. Lola had been disembarking from a yacht, her ribs exposed and painfully visible. “So, if you gain a few pounds, you are pregnant or getting fat, and if you don’t, you are anorexic or bulimic?”

“Or a drug addict.” Lola gave a sad sigh and took a swig of her water. “That’s my favorite one. And occasionally true. And on the cover of
Us Weekly
a month ago.”

A rush of red-hot guilt flooded Elly’s senses. She had seen that magazine—not only that, she had picked it up at the grocery store and read that specific story, about Lola’s battles in and out of rehab, of her eating disorders, of her wild nights and wardrobe malfunctions and dysfunctional relationship with Chloe Britt. She had been one of those people, those heartless individuals, who had gleefully watched a celebrity fall from grace. Guilt, stabbing and real, ate at her stomach. Elly felt convicted that she had contributed to Lola’s pain—from a distance and indirectly—but she had. “I saw that magazine cover. But I want you to know that I didn’t buy it. I only read it in the checkout lane.”

Lola gave a deep, real laugh, and it sounded lovely.

“But you are sober now, right?”

Lola gave an unhappy sigh. “Pretty much. I’m better than I used to be. I have a hard time staying away from that stuff when I go out, but Joe has helped immensely. My goal is to be one hundred percent sober by the wedding. I promised him that I would. Although, Gemma makes me want to drink. She sets my teeth on edge.”

Elly nodded and took a small bite of steak. “She’s just trying to do her job. I’m sure dealing with celebrities all the time, plus the demands of the network, don’t exactly make for a peaceful job.”

Lola rested her extraordinary face on her palm. “I love watching you eat that steak. I remember the days when I could eat a steak and no one cared.”

Elly swallowed. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a pretty good steak. Have the rest. Please.”

Lola eye’s widened. “Really?”

“Really.” Elly slid her plate over and Lola took a single, small bite. She closed her eyes in rapture. “Oh.
Oh
, that is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She paused before taking another bite. “Elly, tell me all about
you
. It’s rare that I get to just talk with a normal person.” Somehow, something that was mildly insulting came across as charming.

“Well … I grew up in Peachtree, Georgia with my mother….” Elly felt like she talked forever, telling Lola everything in rich detail—her childhood, her mother’s death from ovarian cancer, her marriage to Aaron, the affair, moving to St. Louis, the opening of Posies, about Keith and Aaron and Dennis and Kim, about her new shop and her fears of it not being successful. At the end, the steak was gone, and Lola’s huge brown eyes were flooded with empathy.

“Wow,” Lola said. “I was wrong, you actually have had a really interesting life!”

Elly laughed. “Not compared to you! Let’s see, a childhood television star, the past face of L’Oreal, an Oscar nomination, marrying a hotel heir … yeah, I would say that you best me in the ‘interesting’ category.”

Lola grinned. She actually looked happy. “This is the best day I’ve had in a while. Everything has been so crazy lately, what with
BlissBride
wedding planning, and when I’m not here, I’m filming
Sea Terror 3
. I feel like my whole life is getting in and out of limos, calling my PR rep, or swimming away from an invisible CGI shark in a tiny bikini.”