Chapter One
"You ... look ... so ... thin!" Darius's dramatic
voicespoke each word with its own staccato punch.
"Please."
"You ... look ... so ... thin!" Darius always knew the
right thing to say to each of his friends and clients. And
that was always the right thing to say.
"Oh, stop," I answered, pleased anyway.
"Protein power?" Darius guessed, as his hands flew, lacing
more white roses into the charming flower arrangement on
the counter between us. Darius knew each and every diet
that every one of his clients was on. As a matter of fact,
so did I. That's part of the job description when you
cater in this community.
"I'm more into a tasting diet," I joked. "I end up having
a taste of everything I prepare. The hard part is
convincing myself that's enough."
"Mmm hmm," he said, a rose in his mouth, as he spun the
flower arrangement around, looking for bald spots. Deftly,
he found the spot and worked the stem in. "But I hear you
are not working, these days. True or false?"
"Well..." Rumors spread so fast. I had only just been hit
with the lawsuit that week. I shook my head. It's a long
story. The people who bought my catering company need to
get straightened out. That's all." I took adeep breath of
cool, slightly moist air, appreciating the spicy sweet
aroma of so many blooms at their peak.
"So-o-o," Darius asked, eyes agleam, "do you have a good
lawyer?" I was sure he had several names he wanted to
recommend.
"My buddy, Paul, is taking care of it. Don't worry, okay?
We just have a little down time now. Why shouldn't we take
a rest?"
"So-o-o," he said, tsking, "they slapped you with
aninjunction."
"We'll be fine." I smiled, in a fine way.
Darius looked around his empty shop and said, "Word is ..."
I braced myself I could tell we were in for some serious
gossip.
"...Vivian Duncan is looking for you!" And then he went on
to explain why the most notorious wedding consultant in
Beverly Hills had decided she wanted me to buy out her
fabulously successful business.
I let him have his say. Darius's elegant shop contained
the most sought-after blossoms in the world. The rarest
tulips and specialty orchids were flown in from around the
world, filling his cool shop with mystery and beauty. The
walls were painted the color of dark moss, the better to
show off each precious floral jewel. I loved to visit him
there, to catch a few glimpses of the wonderful new
arrangements he kept inventing for his picky clientele,
and to hear the latest gossip circulating through our
tight little world of party planners. I wasn't expecting
today's central topic, however, to be me.
Darius fixed his green eyes on the project at hand and
removed one single stem from the profusion of blooms in
the vase. "Now then, what was I saying?"
"I'm not sure. But what I'm saying is I am not interested
in buying someone else's business. Ever since I came into
some money..."
"A shitload of money," Darius interrupted, smiling.
"Well, we were lucky. We sold my old catering company to a
foolish buyer. That's true. But now every restaurant in
town is after me to invest in their expansion. Or there's
a guy who wants me to be a silent partner in his chef's
supply store. I mean really."
"But Vivian's the best wedding consultant there is,"
Darius said. "Frankly, everyone is simply shocked she'd
consider leaving the business at all. What is she? Sixty?
I don't know โ she's been lifted so many times. But here
she is offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Weddings make me nervous," I said, joking.
"Oh, ha-ha-ha," Darius said, with only the heaviest hint
of sarcasm. "You refuse to settle down just to drive all
the straight men in Los Angeles wild."
"Yes," I said, straight-faced, "that's my plan."
I looked at the flowers he was almost finished working on
and sighed. "You ... are ... such ... a ... genius!"
He smiled. Yes, I knew what to say to my suppliers, too.
Just then a young couple entered the shop. Darius was the
trendiest florist in Beverly Hills, and he had not managed
to stay at the top of the heap by scaring away affluent
couples, especially when the female half of the couple
sported an engagement ring featuring an emerald the size
of a cocktail onion.
"Hello, darlings," Darius called to them, full of
professional charm. "I will be with you momentarily.
Please look around." His eyes twinkled at them and then he
turned back to finish his work. One of his trademark
floral creations was nearly complete. In a round crystal
bowl, a low arrangement had been made of two dozen tightly
packed, burstingly large white roses. The exuberance of so
many luxurious, velvet rose petals was only part of
Darius's magic with flowers. His trademark creative stroke
was found just below the waterline. The clear round bowl
was packed to the brim with several dozen submerged fresh
lemons, hiding and supporting the rose stems in one
delightful masterstroke.
"Here you are," Darius said, as he made one more quick
adjustment to my arrangement. I watched his elflike
features, deep in concentration now, his blond hair
brushed down onto his forehead in bangs.
"Just one last word of advice to you, my pet," he added as
he wrote up the receipt. "Be careful if you mean to take
on Vivian Duncan." His voice dipped to sotto voce when he
spoke the famous wedding planner's name.
"I'm not taking anyone on."
Vivian Duncan, the doyenne of this city's wedding
consultants, was a daunting figure in our little pond. She
captained an elegantly tight ship and had the power and
resources to float quite a few other friendly boats as
well. Her favored florists sailed high.
© 2003-2026