Page 14 of A Bouquet of Dreams

It was as if Jim Turner had yelled “Fire!” Suddenly, pandemonium broke loose. Chairs toppled over as attendees made a run for the exits. Claire kept throwing donut holes at Ivan the Illusionist until a security guard arrived and grabbed the platter and her arm to make her stop. He escorted her to the hotel manager’s office, where she was told to settle down, sit down, and wait for the police to arrive.

nine

Flowers grow back, even after they are stepped on. So will I.

—Unknown

Claire tried to explain to the hotel manager that she had a good reason to disrupt the magician’s act, but before she could say much, Jim Turner burst into the office, Sophie trailing behind him.

He pointed at Claire. “That woman should be banned from the conference. She’s done nothing but stir up trouble, all day long.”

“Banned? Me?!” Claire tried to stand up, but the security guard had a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back down onto the chair.

“And no matter what MaryBeth said about youramazingflower skills, I will not hire you.”

MaryBeth said that? Even in the chaos, it was a nice compliment to hear. Claire scoffed. “I would never consider working for Turner Flowers.”

“Then you’d better start looking for a job.”

Hold on. “What does that mean?”

Jim Turner flashed her that odd smile again. “Because MaryBeth is selling Same Day Delivery to Turner Flowers. She hoped I’d get to know you during this conference so you could keep your job, but there’s no way I would ever let you set foot in any of my shops.” He took a few steps to the door, then stopped and turned around, snapping his fingers in the air. “After I spread your name around Savannah, no one will hire you. How’s that for a magic trick?”

He disappeared down the hall, but Sophie remained at the doorjamb. “Don’t you worry, sugar. I’ll go tell him that you were only having a little hissy fit.”

“But I wasn’t!” Claire’s voice rose an octave. Didn’t matter. Sophie was gone.

The hotel manager turned wearily to Claire with long-suffering in his voice. “Now, what exactly happened?”

Before Claire could get started, the desk phone rang and the hotel manager answered it. He listened, sighed deeply, and said, “I’ll be right there.” He left his office without another word.

Claire gave a sideways look at the security guard, a stout man with extravagant gray eyebrows. “I think I’ll just be off then.”

Unfortunately, he took his work far too seriously. “Not a chance. Police are on their way.”

“Seriously?” She was just about to list her objections when she saw Ivan the Illusionist standing at the open door in full magician’s garb.

He took a step inside the office and put a hand on the security guard’s shoulder. “Would you mind if I speak to this woman alone?”

The security guard shook his head. “I need to stay. She’s exhibited dangerous behavior.”

“Dangerous?” Claire’s jaw dropped. “I threw donut holes at him!”

The security guard lifted his bushy eyebrows. “Scuffles always start small. They escalate from there.”

“To what?” Claire said. “Cream puffs?”

Ivan lifted a hand. “I’ll take full responsibility. You can stay right outside the door if you like. I’d just like to speak to her before the police arrive.”

The security guard gave that some serious thought, helped along after Ivan slipped him a twenty-dollar bill. “I reckon it’d be okay.” But he walked over to the hotel manager’s desk and made a show of confiscating scissors, a stapler, and sharpened pencils, as if Claire had already staked out her next weapon. Holding everything against his round belly, he narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll be right outside that door.”

As the door closed, there was a heavy quiet that filled the room. Ivan took off his hat, his mask, then his beard, and set them on the desk.

Yep. It was him. Christopher Reid.

Chris sat in the hotel manager’s chair, facing her. Appraising her. “Wow. You look great, Claire. Really, really good.”

In spite of herself, a spiral of pleasure started in her. She didn’t look her best tonight, but she was definitely better looking than she had been in high school. Over the years, she’d lost weight as she gained a daily habit of exercising, and she’d finally found a hairstylist who knew what to do with wild, curly hair. “And you ... you look like an old man.”

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