Page 12 of A Future in Blossom

Thirty minutes? She leapt from her stool, almost taking flight. She peered into a wall mirror that was used for checking bouquets. A mess! She was a mess. No makeup, hair that needed a shampoo, T-shirt over jeans. She grabbed her emergency makeup bag from under the workshop bench and hunted through it for a small container of dry shampoo.

As she rummaged, Claire popped her head around the door. “I just found a supplier who can promise delphiniums for the Opposite Wedding.”

Spraying dry shampoo over the crown of her head, Jaime looked at Claire’s reflection in the mirror. “Claire, you are a whiz at what you do.”

“Delphiniums symbolize goodwill. When I told the supplier I needed them for a pregnant bride and that her father was eager to get her to the altar before the baby arrived, he said he’d send them express. Apparently”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“he’s had a similar family matter.”

“Well,” Jaime said, brushing her hair with a fury, “I think it’s you. You have a way of getting people to want to help you.”

“Really? No one’s ever said that to me before. Usually, I’m told to think before I speak.”

“I suppose that’s good for all of us.”

“Not you. You have a pretty tight filter.” Claire came into the room. “What are you getting all gussied up for?” Her eyes lit up. “Hold it! I bet I know. Prince Liam is coming through town and you want to impress.”

Jaime frowned into the mirror, which wasn’t easy to do when you were trying to put on lipstick. “I’ve told you. We have a strictly professional relationship.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Claire said, giving her an exaggerated wink before she vanished into the front of the shop.

Annoyed, Jaime finished her makeup, ran the brush through her hair one last time, and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked all right. Could be better, but this would just have to do.

Knowing Liam would be prompt, Jaime waited for him out in front of the shop. She wanted to avoid Claire’s wiggling eyebrows and irritating innuendos. She’d forgotten how Claire didn’t always realize when she stepped over a line. It didn’t bother Jaime unless she happened tobethat line.

You’re being silly, she told herself. The only reason she was annoyed with Claire was because she’d hit a sore spot. Over and over.

So maybe Jaime’s relationship with Liam wasn’t strictly professional, but it certainly wasn’t much more than that. Or was it? Jaime felt thoroughly confused. She assumed Liam would have flown to New York City after his Atlanta meeting, but he hadn’t. He said he had clients to meet and venues to explore, but he kept circling through Sunrise. And when he did, he invited Jaime out for meals on the pretense of planning the Opposite Wedding, which they did rather intensely—every detail had been thought of, the caterer booked, the party rentals and supplies had been ordered, the checklists were edited by each other—but then they’d set itaside and talk about everything else under the sun. Once, Liam put a temporary ban on talking about the Opposite Wedding and they went on a long hike in the mountains. Another time, she cooked for him at her little house. A true Southern meal—fried chicken and biscuits and coleslaw and potato salad. He said it was the best meal he’d had in ages, and she knew he meant it. Whenever he had to say goodbye to her, he lingered at her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Something seemed to be happening between them, but she wasn’t sure what it was. At times, it did seem as if Liam was surveying the area, trying it on for size. But that was just plain silly; it was Claire’s teasing that gave Jaime a glimmer of hope. Foolish thoughts. Liam McMillan belonged in New York City to head up Epic Events.

After all, if he were thinking of living in the South, he wouldn’t be Scottish Liam anymore. He’d be Kentucky Billy.

nine

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

—Pablo Neruda

CLAIRE

Two more days. Then this Opposite Wedding would be over and Claire could get some control back over her life. For the last two weeks, the Opposite Wedding had dominated Rose’s Flower Shop. The holidays were fast approaching! There were other customers to take care of than the Zimmerman bride. But you’d never know it if you walked into the shop. Boxes of lighting paraphernalia kept getting delivered and were stacked along the walls, waiting for the electrician to haul them away to install in Tessa’s greenhouse. Jaime was on the phone 24/7, talking to the caterer or confirming porta potties or worse—trying to scrounge up high school boys as parking valets.

Over the last week, flowers had started to arrive from all over the world, filling up every square inch of cooler space. Claire and Jaime stayed late into the night to get every stem prepped, readyfor arranging. That would be saved for today and tomorrow, the days before the Opposite Wedding. And it fell to Claire, because Jaime would be needed to set up and decorate the venue. Claire didn’t mind doing the flowers herself, not when Jaime showed her the mock-ups of what she had in mind for the bride’s bouquet and table arrangements.

Beautiful.Claire was in awe as she looked through the mock-ups. Jaime had such style, such originality. “I would never have thought of using protea in a bridal bouquet.”

“The bride wanted things to look natural, like she’d picked it on the way to the wedding.”

“But you’ve created this luscious bouquet for her, Jaime. I hope I do it justice.”

Jaime smiled. “I have no doubt that you’ll outdo anything in the mock-ups.” She nudged her with her elbow. “I’ve seen your work.”

“Mostly I just copy,” Claire said.

“Everyone gets their inspiration somewhere. And you do more than copy, Claire.” She tipped her head. “Feel free to take my mock-ups and improve on them.”

“No ma’am. Your mock-ups are perfect.”

“They’re drawings, not reality. You know as well as I do what it’s like to have flowers in front of you that don’t look anything like the ones in your imagination. Claire, I want your input. We’re better together.”

Claire stared at the drawing. “You mean, I can forage?”

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