The Ladybug Jinx (25 page)

“Sam.”

He yanked his hands from underneath hers.

“We are two different people.” Her words were out there, lingering around his ears.

He flung himself out of the café chair causing it to fall on the concrete with a bang. “Sam, stop!”

Sam had to get out of there. Her words hurt his heart. He promised when Bianca died, he’d never feel that way again. He lied to himself.

She had hurt him.

Don passed him on the way.

“What’s that for?” Don yelled as Sam shoved him.

Sam wasn’t going to tell Don anything. He knew Don wasn’t on his side, and it was a matter of time before Sam cuts ties with him—forever.

“When love is not madness, it is not love.”

Pedro Calderon de la Barca

27

Celia searched the suite for any remains of Sam. He hadn’t come back at all since Don brought her home. She ran to the door when she heard the knock.

“Sam!” The door swooped open.

Don stood there catching her off guard.

Disappointed, Celia put her head down and sighed, “Oh, I was hoping you were Sam.”

“Sorry, you get me today.” Don walked past Celia. “Listen, I’m sorry about the other day at lunch. I really wanted you to experience all L.A. has to offer. You are really going to be famous with this party.”

Celia walked around the big dining room table, looking at all the flowers. She touched each one, trying to get her muse back.

“Fame is not what I want. I want to pay Sam back and go home. I don’t want to do any more parties or be in the lime light.”

Celia wanted so badly to make the party a unique experience that incorporated all the senses—from the smell of the flowers, the eye-popping color, and the different textures of each design. It was her time to shine and Sam or Don wasn’t going to rain on her parade.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants. Truce?”

“Truce.” Celia tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t come. “Why are you here again?”

“My job. Keeping everyone happy until the big dance.” Don picked up Celia’s new sketch book. “I thought you lost this?”

“I did. It’s a new one.” Celia recalled the look on Sam’s face when he gave it to her at the florist. She hated to hurt him. She was hurting herself. But she was realistic. Maybe too realistic. In the long run, she would spare her heart from the famous actor.

Celia worked diligently with the chandeliers and tree branches she was gluing together. After these were done, she’d only have to work on the centerpieces. With Sam not around to distract her, she’d be done way ahead of schedule. She took comfort in knowing she’d be gone in a few days, back to normal—exactly what she needed. It was all business, from here on out.

Celia laid the centerpieces throughout the suite. She positioned the tree base centerpieces between the chandelier centerpieces. There was something missing and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She pulled out her new sketch book and walked around the suite. Using the same rose ball design on top would allow a flow from each table, but what about the base? Three different centerpieces would be perfect, she thought.

“Ah!” She yelled out.

“What?” Don yelled from the other room.

“Nothing. I think I figured something out.” She wanted to sketch the design before she went public with it. Her pencil glided along the stiff white pages making the simplest yet elegant arrangement. “Something so simple.” She smirked. She put her sketch book in her purse and went to find Don all laid out on the couch.

“Get up. I need you to take me to Hobby Lobby.” She didn’t wait for him to get up. She grabbed her purse. If he wasn’t going to take her, she’d find a taxi or use the limo service.

“A what?” Don stumbled over the couch getting to his feet.

“You know the craft store?” Celia pushed the elevator button. She kept her purse close. There was no way she was going to lose another idea.

“We have a Michael’s. I’ve never been there.” Don put his hand on open elevator door so it wouldn’t start to close on them. “What are you looking for?”

“I want to buy some tall glass vases and usually you can get them from craft stores cheaper than chain stores.” Celia was amazed how easily new ideas come to her and this was more than anything she’s ever dreamed up—bigger and better.

“Cheaper isn’t always better.” Don snorted.

Celia ignored him. He was privileged and didn’t realize how hard you have to work for money. She did on the other hand. A two-hundred and fifty thousand debt counted on it.

It felt good to get out of the suite and take a break from putting together the bases of the centerpieces. The sun was shining and felt good on her face. Her father was always telling her to make sure she steps out of the florist everyday for a little fresh air, and he was right.

Michael’s felt like she was home in Lexington. She lost herself in the store. Don followed her around asking her all sorts of questions about the items she was looking at, especially the marbles. There were so many choices of marbles. All the colors of the rainbow and she picked green.

“Green will go with the stems and the flowers.” She picked up the light green. Not too green and not too blue. “These will be perfect.”

Don raised his brows and held the glass balls up in front of him. “Are you going to be playing marbles during the party?”

Celia laughed. It was the first time her heart felt a little lighter since telling Sam she could never live this lifestyle.

“No, silly. The marbles are going in this.” She carefully put one of the bags in the bottom of the glass container she picked up when they first came in the store.

Nodding, Don seemed impressed. “Very cool. Now see, that’s why we hired you.”

“No, you hired me because Sam thought I’d forgive him.” She reminded herself she didn’t get the job the way she should’ve—by talent.

Celia noticed how attentive Don was to all her moves. He helped her without her asking and held vases up to the light so she could see what it would look like.

“I need fifteen of these.” Celia told the clerk who went to the back to see what they had in stock. She couldn’t help but notice someone staring at them. She turned and a camera was in her face.

“You are Celia Briggs.” The photographer continued to take pictures. “Where’s Sam, and who is this loser?”

“Don’t listen to them, Celia.” Don stopped her. “They try to get you all crazed up so they can get shots of you and post nasty comments across the paper.”

Celia smiled posing with Don and ignoring the photographer’s comments. The clerk had them pull their car up to the store front and they loaded the boxes of vases and marbles.

“That was exhausting.” Don started to laugh. “Now I remember why I never come to craft stores.”

“I’m starving.” Celia rubbed her stomach. She was enjoying Don’s company and didn’t want to eat alone. “Let’s go eat. On me.”

“No, on me and let’s go to Spago’s” Don caught Celia’s eyes. He looked at her as every other man does when they notice her eyes. “Your eyes are amazing.”

“Thank you.” Celia turned away. “My mother had the same eyes.”

“Had?” Don questioned Celia. She wasn’t comfortable in telling him about her past.

“Yes she passed over a year ago.” Celia left it at that.

“You don’t seem to take compliments very well for such a striking woman.” Celia let his words float down and not respond. “Okay, I get it.”

She had enough conversation about her life for the day and she wanted to experience Spago’s and see if it’s everything she heard. She had only seen that in tabloids too. She was all game when Don suggested they go there.

“After you.” Don put his hand on the small of her back. She didn’t like his touch. Celia has never been one who was intimate without feelings.

“Thank you.” Celia put them behind her and decided to enjoy the evening. Don may be a Don Juan, but he wasn’t a murderer. She smiled and took in everything Spago had to offer.

The concrete entrance was amazing leading to the large wood doors. They walked through the jewel toned dining room and were led out to the garden patio. She liked the white clothed tables with the very colorful carnations bound in the middle.

“Sam does have good taste.” Don reached over the table and took Celia’s hand. She pulled it away.

“Listen Don, I know your type.” Celia said. “I was a lawyer before I was a florist.”

“Really?” Don was confused. “Why a florist? Especially one you couldn’t afford.”

“You know how you told me about your dream of being an actor?” Celia waited for Don to acknowledge what he had told her, or was that a lie too? “I have always wanted to be a florist. I love flowers and anything to do with them.” Celia watched the waiter put down the salmon pizza. “Have you ever been around flowers?”

“As a matter of fact, my grandfather had a greenhouse when I was growing up and we spent a lot of time there.” Don stated.

The Christmas carolers began singing surrounding their table.

Celia watched Don’s dimples grow bigger and bigger. He reminded her of a little boy watching them sing jingle bells.

“I love carolers.” He watched them.

It was an enduring moment she didn’t think existed in him. He seemed so consumed with himself all the time, except now. He was sincere—an enduring quality.

“I love Christmas,” Celia stated.

“You are beautiful and you surround yourself with beautiful flowers.” Don looked around, then quickly turned to Celia and kissed her before she could object. She didn’t realize what was happening.

“What is going on here?” Sam appeared out of nowhere.

Celia jumped up at the sound of Sam’s voice. She wiped her mouth with her forearm.

“Nothing, Sam, I swear.” Celia was mad at how stupid she acted. Anyone could have seen them. Worse, Sam did see them.

“Trust me; he’s not your type!” Sam screamed, causing a scene.

Celia stood face to face with Sam’s blasting words in her face. Everyone was looking at them. She heard the chairs scratching across the brick floor, aware they were on display.

“Sam.” Celia tried to grab his arm just as he jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.” Sam’s words were bitter and angry. “You’re right. You don’t belong here.”

Corin turned the corner. Celia’s heart sank. What was she doing with Sam?  Corin didn’t flinch when she saw them.

“What do we have here?” Corin’s eye narrowed and a sly grin rose across her face.

“It seems Don and Celia have a little something in common.” Sam’s anger was apparent. “Their lips.”

“Our table is waiting.” Corin took Sam by the hand and led him away.

Celia’s stomach churned upside down like the salmon she just ate was swimming inside her. She couldn’t believe she let Don touch her. Once again, she let her guard down.

“I’m sorry, Celia. I was out of line. I was caught up in the moment.”

“It’s fine.”

“I promise it will never happen again.”