Page 12 of A Bouquet of Dreams

“Every day?” Claire said. “You might be overwhelming her. Some women wouldn’t like that.”

“But some would,” Sophie said. “I would love it if a man treated me like that.” She cast a side-glance at Jim Turner just as he looked at her. Their eyes met.

What was happening here? “Um, should we role-play how to make customers feel important?” Claire asked.

Eyes still on Sophie, Jim gave a slow nod, then his phone buzzed and he answered it. Seconds ticked by as the group sat watching him until he pulled the phone away long enough to say, “Do the role-play. I’ve got to take this call,” and left.

All eyes turned to Claire as she pointed to a woman whose bottle-blond hair was scooped up like an ice cream swirl. “Here’san example from my shop. Let’s say the store is full of customers and you’re working alone. A customer has called in to order flowers, but she keeps changing her mind about what to say on the card. Now a line is forming at the register and the customers are glaring at you while you’re on the phone. How would you handle the customer on the phone?”

The woman crossed her ankles and put her hands in her lap. “She is my top priority. I would tell that customer that I had all the time in the world.”

“Really?” Claire didn’t expect that.

“That’s exactly what we’re supposed to do, aren’t we? Make each customer feel like they’re the reason we’re in business.” The ice-cream-swirl woman looked to Jim Turner for confirmation as he rejoined the circle.

“Exactly right,” he said. He turned to Claire, eyebrows raised. “So how did you handle it?”

Claire cleared her throat. “I told the customer to call back when she knew what she wanted to say on the card.”

The woman across the circle looked horrified. Jim Turner let out a loud scoff. “Yet another reason why MaryBeth sent you to customer service rehab.”

Hold on a minute. Just hold on. Claire narrowed her eyes. “How do you know MaryBeth?”

“MaryBeth? Our families are old friends.” His lips lifted in the corners, like he was attempting a smile. “She asked me to get to know you during this conference.”

“Why?”

More of that odd smile. “You know MaryBeth. She wants everyone to be friends.”

That, Claire knew, was true. But there was something else in his eyes, like he knew something she didn’t. Something was afoot.

eight

Minds are like flowers; they open only when the time is right.

—Stephen Richards

After a dinner of rubber chicken, dried-out rice, and a limp, overdressed salad, Claire was even more determined to skip the Christian magician act tonight. She’d had enough magic nonsense to last her a lifetime. Instead, she thought about going for a run to get some exercise. But Sophie wouldn’t hear of it.

“Everyone says that Ivan the Illusionist is supposed to be fabulous,” Sophie said, which Claire highly doubted. “Please, please, please? I don’t want to go alone.”

Reluctantly, Claire buckled. They returned to the conference room where they’d spent the entire day, settled into the same uncomfortable metal folding chairs, and waited for the show to begin. The lecturer’s podium had been moved, and in its place was a large black box.

Did all magicians use a black box? She only knew one magician, and she tried not to think about him. But in the lull before the performance, Claire’s mind traveled to the last time she’d been onstage with Chris Reid, acting as his assistant—the senior classput on a talent show during the last week of high school. It had been a big deal for Chris to be allowed to participate. He had been in so much trouble over the year that the principal wanted to ban him from all public gatherings. His aunt Rose intervened, like she usually did.

Chris surprised everyone, including Claire, with a daring new trick using a ring of fire. She knew it was his way of tweaking the principal. Bravely, Claire walked right through it. It had gone so well that the audience rose to give them a standing ovation. Chris took Claire’s hand for a bow, but then he whirled her into his arms and bent her backward for a dramatic kiss. Best kiss ever. She floated on a cloud for days, weeks. It was the start of the best summer of her life.

With a sigh, she dropped her chin.And then Chris had to go and ruin everything.

Loud, dramatic music signaled the start of the show. A big puff of smoke appeared, and Ivan the Illusionist slowly emerged out of the large black box, wearing a black eye mask like the Lone Ranger and a big red flashy cape. Sophie gasped so loudly that Claire almost burst out in a laugh. So cheesy!

Ivan the Illusionist moved like an old man, climbing out of the box with great effort, nearly falling a few times before both feet made it onto the stage, then he shuffled slowly around the stage to peer at the audience. He spoke in a thick Eastern European accent, so overdone that it only added to the cheesiness. Why had she let Sophie talk her into coming?

Sophie jabbed her with her elbow. “Look! Look what he’s doing now!”

Ivan the Illusionist had levitated himself a few inches off the ground. Seriously? Such a kid’s birthday party trick. Positioned diagonally, he stood on the ball of one foot that was farthest from the audience. The Balducci levitation trick. Sophie loved it.

Then Ivan reached into the box to lift an empty vase and set it on a small table. He filled the vase with water, also found in thebox. He faced the audience and pulled a flower bouquet out of his sleeve, first the right one, then the left. Claire knew that flower ring trick. He set the flowers in the vase. From where she was sitting, they actually looked real.

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