LITMIR.BIZ

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her lip to keep from laughing. Ardelle stood up and started pacing the room, waving her hanky at things.

      “When I work here, you will want to move my station up by ze window. That way the adoring public can see my creations up close. It is very special for them to be able to watch a master at work. The dog will have to go. Zere is no place for such a hairy little creature in a place with true art. And I do have a minimum that I require for working. I simply cannot make anything beautiful for less than $300. It does not give me enough incentive to even pick up a … a daisy.”

      She said “daisy” as if it were the most vile thing she could imagine. Elly envisioned herself shaking the woman.

      “Well, Ardelle, thank you for coming in, but I do have another interview today—”

      “Of course you do, darling, but I’m not worried. A place like zis could greatly benefit from my working here. It is a little close to the Jewish side of town, but, you know, zey have lots of money. I’ve done many arrangements for Hanukkah in silvers and blues. But you do mostly weddings, no? I feel zat brides are silly creatures; they really need to be told what zey want. Most of them don’t even know what they are doing. They should just stick to making babies.” Ardelle slapped her gloves against her hand. “Not that it is zeir fault. Not everyone is blessed with royal parenthood and uncanny intelligence. No, not everyone, but those of us zat have gifts must educate the masses. Yes. Did you know my home was once featured in Better Homes and Gardens?”

      More like “Better Homes Than Yours,” Elly thought to herself, shaking her head. She felt like this woman had run her over with a truck. One rose scented Mack truck. Ardelle pointed to the arrangement on the counter.

      “I think I would add some French tulips and apple blossoms to zis arrangement here. It’s absolutely dreadful. Yes, it could use ze touch of someone with exquisite gifts.”

      There was the sound of a glass breaking in the back. Elly realized that Kim had been listening in. She needed to get this woman out of here, before Kim emerged from the back. Elly looked frantically at the woman’s lavender scented resume.

      “It says here that you left Clayton Flowers last year. Why was that?”

      She saw a small look of annoyance cross the woman’s face.

      “Not that it matters much,” she fluttered her hands around her face. “Well, there was a girl who worked zere,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “an illegal. I can only guess. She only spoke in Spanish and she smelled like burritos. She was cleaning ze studio and accidentally knocked over a beautiful pink teacup I had filled with roses. It was a work of art. Such a shame. Well, I lost my temper, totally to be expected after all ze hours I spent on it, and I hit her with a broom. Ze soft side. It was just against her cheek.”

      Elly’s mouth dropped open. “After the police left—such a nice and handsome sergeant—Clayton Flowers was forced, truly forced, to let me go. Zey were devastated.”

      Elly pointed to the door. “Please leave.”

      Ardelle looked shocked. “You are not hiring me?”

      “No,” Elly said, and she added kindly, “I just think someone with your talents would be better suited at a different shop.”

      Ardelle walked up to her and stuck her fingers in Elly’s face and hissed. “You will be sorry. I am ze Julia Child of flowers. You have no idea what you are missing. This will not be last you hear of Ardelle Buche!”

      This woman is insane, thought Elly.

      “Okay.” Elly gestured to the door. “Thanks for coming in. I appreciate your time.”

      Ardelle grabbed her designer bag and put her sunglasses on and faced Elly triumphantly. “Just so you know, I make every arrangement as if it is for Jesus Christ himself!”

      And with that, Ardelle Buche trounced out the door. Cadbury growled at her heels. Elly blinked. What the heck just happened, she asked herself.

      Kim practically ran out of the office, with Snarky Teenager on her heels.

      “Oh my God, did that lady say that she hit someone with a BROOM?”

      Elly grinned, “Yeah, but it was only on the cheek.” She shrieked with giggles and collapsed in a chair. “That woman was a RIOT. Can she be for real? As my mother used to say, ‘There is a mad woman living not in the attic, but on the main floor.”

      Kim was shaking her head. “She slapped someone with a broom.”

      Elly grinned maliciously, “I’m going to slap YOU with a broom if you don’t get back to work on the wedding for this weekend.”

      Kim stuck her tongue out at Elly. “Do you have another interview now?”

      “Mmm … no, I have a consultation with a Ms. Kepke at three,” she said, checking her appointment book, “and then another interview at five.”

      Elly groaned. Ardelle had been amusing, but the whole hiring adventure had been a nightmare. She was at the point where she doubted she would find anyone that would work. It wasn’t just that the interviews had been a nightmare. Wedding season was now looming over her head—a violent storm hovering on the horizon. It was both fantastic and awful. Days that blended together into madness, endless phone calls, and lots of bride meltdowns. Yes, Elly was both dreading and anticipating wedding season. To make matters worse, training a new worker to design up to Elly’s level took months. She shook her head.

      “I know someone,” Snarky Teenager piped up, her thin frame hidden behind Kim’s shoulder.

      “I have a friend named Romy—well, she likes to be called Rom, like the disc drive, because she’s really into technology—anyways, she is looking for a job, and she is, like, super creative. She has these paintings that are, like, her finger markings in chocolate, but it’s supposed to be blood.”

      “Thanks,” snapped Elly, rubbing her temples, “that’s a huge help. She sounds GREAT.”

      Kim gave Elly an apologetic smile and ushered Snarky Teenager into the back while she jabbered on about her friend. Elly allowed herself one more aggravated sigh and then started setting up for her consultation.

      First, she put a tall glass vase of colored poppies onto the table and laid out dozens of wedding books, all with elegant covers showing million-dollar weddings. Elly then laid out her consultation forms, calculators, and pens. Down onto the table went a tiny dish with petit fours, bottled water, and expensive crackers that no one ever ate. She turned on her stereo—a soothing mix of violin, piano, and Celtic choral hymns—and settled into her chair.

      Consultations were one of her favorite parts of the job. It was fascinating to see the different ideas and visions that brides had for their weddings, whether it was crafty, Asian-inspired, stripes, rustic, or modern, the ideas always reflected the bride, and Elly loved being part of that picture. This, however, was a mother-of-the-bride coming in alone and those consultations were usually formal and tense, with the mother dictating every decision, and they usually ended up with flowers straight out of 1940. Elly grimaced. She heard footsteps coming up the patio. Baby’s breath, here we come, she thought. Her fingers drummed on the table anxiously.

      The door opened and a beautiful older woman entered. Ashamed at the thought, Elly tried to quiet down the embarrassing voice in her head that screamed, “Be nice, this woman has MONEY.” But still, it was obvious. She had a sparkling tennis bracelet on her left wrist, and a diamond the size of a walnut on her right hand. Elly tried not to stare as its sharp clarity and emerald accents sparkled in the sun. The woman was stunning, and would have been so regardless of what jewelry she wore. She carried her elegance in her face. Her silver hair was pulled back loosely with a leather headband that matched the belt looped around her camel pantsuit. She glided across the floor, radiating light and ease.

      “Hello. I’m Sunny Kepke.” She smiled brightly. Elly smiled back.

      “It’s so nice to meet you. Please sit down. Help yourself to some water,

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