didn’t take offense to her pushing fakes on to her clients.”
“It’s not the same,” Jess said.
Of course, she was right, but still. “So Lydia frowns upon the goods Ginger is trying to sell and everyone else follows suit because Lord help them if they should publicly choose sexy lingerie over God,” she borrowed Jack’s sentiment about booze from the
night before, “and the next thing you know, there’s a silent ban on Ginger’s boutique and all the hard work and money she invested is for naught.”
Jess sighed. “I hear what you’re saying. And it’s not like Lydia is personally trying to destroy Ginger’s business—”
“Not just her business,” Liza interjected, “But Ginger herself.” She recalled how
distraught the shop owner had been on Saturday and it broke her heart all over again.
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Calista Fox
Jess was silent a moment. Liza picked up a yellow daisy—an easy one to identify—
and poked it into the base in the basket. She pushed too hard and the delicate stem
snapped.
“Damn,” she muttered.
“Careful,” Jess said. “You have to ease them in gently. Otherwise you’ll end up
with all those broken stems—and each one costs me money.”
“Sorry. You can take it out of my pay.”
She laughed. “I will not.”
“I’ll be more careful.” But it was going to take her twice as long to assemble a
basket than it did Jess. In fact, Jess was reaching for the satin to lavish the arrangement with a bow while Liza had only stuck a half-dozen or so stems into her basket.
Jess finished up and came round to Liza’s side of the workbench. Assessing her
work, Jess let out a soft tsking noise, as she was prone to do. Looking at the basket with a critical eye, Liza could see her dismay.
“Little crooked, isn’t it?”
“You have to keep it balanced on both sides, knowing you’ll use a larger flower in
the center as the focal point.” She reached for a book, flipped through some pages and set it on the table next to the basket. “Try to copy this arrangement.”
It didn’t seem like a difficult task, yet Liza instantly broke two more stems. “Might want to rethink that offer to take the damaged flowers out of my pay.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. Keep working on it.” She untied her apron at the waist
and slipped it over her head. “I have two deliveries to make before I have to drop off the baskets, so there’s still time to finish this one. I’ll swing back by in about an hour.”
Liza took that to mean their discussion on Ginger’s failing shop—and Lydia’s
responsibility for it—was closed.
Well, one thing was for certain. When the good citizens of Wilder didn’t want to
talk about something, they let you know about it.
Liza focused all of her attention on the floral arrangement she was miraculously
creating and then tidied up the shop while Jess came and went. She found it odd that
the phone only rang twice. Once when Jess was in the shop, so she’d taken the order.
The second call had come while she was on a delivery. It’d been a wrong number.
As the clock inched toward noon and Liza anticipated her lunch with Ginger, the
little chime at the front door told her someone had come in. Thinking it was Jess
returning, she came from the back work area, saying, “It’s been quiet, so I—”
Liza drew up short in the middle of the store. Lydia Bain looked as shocked to see
her as Liza was. Composing herself quickly, Liza said, “Hello, Lydia. I thought you
were Jess.”
“Obviously.” She moved further into the shop, heading toward one of the
refrigerators with the pre-made arrangements.
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Devil in Texas
“Is there something I can help you with?” Liza asked. She recalled what Jack had
told her last night and she tried to muster that empathy again, despite the fact that her earlier tangent had her all worked up over Wilder politics and the Bains’ effect on
people’s livelihoods.
“I take it Jess isn’t in.”
“Making a delivery.”
“Well,” Lydia said as her gaze slid over Liza, taking in her fitted, red cami top with the thin straps and her black dress pants and matching strappy sandals. Liza had yet to break out the pearls and conservative clothes she’d worn for her mother and Peter. She was, in fact, considering donating them to the local Goodwill. Lydia would probably
snatch them right up. As long as she didn’t know who’d worn them previously.
Not that she’d believe they’d belonged to Liza.
“I’m interested in an arrangement for the salon,” Lydia said. “But I’ll wait for Jess to return. I want her opinion.”
Not grinding her teeth together in frustration was difficult for Liza. “I have a pretty decent eye,” she said. “I’d be happy to help.” It was her job, after all.
Lydia was certainly reluctant. But eventually she conceded, likely because she knew
how rude she was being. Not exactly appropriate behavior for the reverend’s wife.
“Fine. I’m looking for something to fill the space in the corner of the shop by the
hairdryers.”
Liza conjured a mental image of the beauty salon. Jess had been in that far corner.
Next to her had been a white end table with lavender scroll-accents painted along the edges. The walls of the salon were a faint, buttery color. Very dainty and prim. Liza stepped up to the wall of coolers that sectioned off the display area of the store from the work area. She surveyed the arrangements.
“You’ll want something tall and full so it doesn’t get swallowed up in that big,
empty corner.”
“Yes,” Lydia agreed, albeit reluctantly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
The easy choice was the bouquet of yellow and lavender flowers in the clear vase.
But, although the arrangement would be color-coordinated with the shop, it’d hardly
make a statement. Liza opened one of the doors and pulled out the summer bouquet
with a variety of vibrant colors, the predominate ones being pale green and bright
magenta. The flowers were held in a large ceramic pitcher, with colorful horizontal
stripes painted on it.
She turned to Lydia and said, “This would definitely stand out. It’d brighten that
entire corner and I think the vase would make an excellent conversation piece.”
At first, Lydia’s eyes lit up, as though she completely agreed and could easily
envision the arrangement in her salon. But then the corners of her mouth dipped and