Read an Excerpt
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 — 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.
