Elly in Love (The Elly Series)

by Colleen Oakes

  Snarky Teenager fidgeted. “Well, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “More reason that you aren’t ready to run this place alone.”

  “Whatever.” Snarky Teenager handed Hadley hastily back to Elly. Hadley had been riveted by their argument, but now was looking around for his mom with a whimper.

  “Your mom just went to get coffee,” Elly whispered. “She’ll be right back.”

  In the corner, Snarky Teenager began nailing the gray slate order board to the wall.

  “That looks great!” Elly called out, trying to be encouraging. She was met with a sneer.

  Kim stepped back through the door, carrying two drinks. She immediately sensed the tension in the room. “Is this about the Buddha?” she asked. “Because I was thinking, what if we could find a giant gold Jesus or something?”

  Elly took her drink, handing Hadley back to his mom as she mumbled under her breath, “I’m going to have a talk with her. She’s always stomping somewhere or mad about one thing or another.”

  But Kim wasn’t listening. Her eyes, Hadley’s eyes, and Snarky Teenager’s eyes were all trained on the door. Elly looked up. Looking more out of place that should have been possible, Dennis stood awkwardly at the store’s entrance, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. To Elly’s delight, he had showered, although his clothes were still dirty. I need to take him clothes shopping ASAP. He stared at the floor as he shuffled his feet back and forth. Kim clutched Hadley close to her chest.

  Before Elly could say anything, Snarky Teenager stepped in front of Dennis. “The comic book store is down the street, it’s not on this block anymore.”

  Dennis pathetically raised his head. His bright-blue eyes opened wide as he stared at her with amazement. Something was changing in him, Elly could see it and do little to stop it. His mouth opened slightly and his posture straightened as he looked at this miraculous creature in front of him.

  Snarky Teenager pushed her hair back. “Do you want some change?” she asked nicely.

  “I’m not homeless,” said Dennis quietly. Elly, watching silently, felt Kim’s bony elbow in her side. Crap.

  “That’s my brother!” she loudly proclaimed. “This is my brother, Dennis.”

  Dennis raised his hand in a half wave. “Uh, hey.”

  Elly walked over to him. She could have hit him with a brick, it wouldn’t have mattered. His eyes were trained on Snarky Teenager with a wild interest. The svelte teenager was obviously amused by his intense attraction—people like her were used to it.

  “So, you’re Elly’s brother. I hear you like World of MageCraft.”

  Dennis gave a slow nod. Elly could see that he wasn’t sure if he should admit that or not.

  “Hmm. That’s … unique,” she replied, with a toss of her blond ponytail. “Hi, I’m….”

  “I’m Dennis.” He interrupted her, speaking frantically. “I’m Dennis, I’m Elly’s brother.”

  Elly felt a surge of pride well up in her chest. Yes, he was. “Dennis, would you like to help us set things up? We could use a strong male to lift some of these shelves.”

  Dennis didn’t answer her, his expression frozen in place, his eyes taking in every inch of Snarky Teenager’s long legs.

  “Hey! Dennis!” Elly snapped her fingers. “Respect!”

  He blinked. “Uh, yeah. I can help, I guess. I actually just walked over to ask where the TV remote was.”

  Elly knew this wasn’t true.

  Snarky Teenager handed him a hammer. “Here. You can start by helping me put up the slateboard and work on the fabric swagging.” She wiggled her hips a little and gave him a wink. Dennis looked like he might faint. Poor guy, thought Elly. She’ll eat him alive, but hey, he’s doing something.

  Dennis tripped over his own feet, careening into the side of the huge desk, while Snarky Teenager looked at him with the kind of amusement you reserve for pets. Apparently, he found walking difficult as well. Hadley reached out for Elly and Kim passed him over so that she could sip her latte without the baby grabbing at the cup. It struck Elly, watching Dennis clamber awkwardly up a ladder, his pants slipping down past the band of his tighty-whities, that she was, at this moment, surrounded by family, both adoptive and biological. A surge of happiness rushed through her, intoxicating and brief. It lasted until Dennis’s pants slipped off his waist.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elly fixed her hair in the mirror, hoping that this much-anticipated meeting with Lola would go smoothly. With St. Louis humidity, you never quite knew what to expect. A line of sweat dripped down her forehead. It was probably time to turn the air on. It didn’t help that she was wearing a mustard-yellow pencil dress with a lacy white cardigan, belted at the waist. If she had her way, she would have her venue meeting with Lola Plumb wearing only shorts and a tank top. Hastily, she grabbed a couple of bobby pins and firmly pinned everything to the back of her head. Gold curls leapt out from her head at random. That was the look now, messy was in. Bohemian chic. Right? She thought maybe she had read that somewhere. Dabbing on some lip gloss, she headed out to the kitchen. She let out a yelp when she saw the hulking silhouette in her kitchen.

  Dennis turned around, his hair a tangled mess, a coffee cup in one hand and a scone in the other. “Oh. Hey. Sorry I scared you.”

  “Yeah, I’m still getting used to you being here.” It sounded meaner than Elly meant. She bit her tongue.

  “Coffee?” he asked. The dark bruises under his eyes were getting worse.

  He wasn’t sleeping, Elly knew that. It had been a month since he had moved in with her, since that first time he played World of MageCraft all night, and every night since. Elly leaned wearily against the counter. Dennis had taken over her life. Socks, boxers, and shirts littered the floor. The sink was always full of dirty dishes, and food seemed to disappear overnight. Elly’s grocery bill had tripled, along with her electricity bill. The TV blared constantly—a randy mix of MTV and the Spike network. Dennis talked all night long, via his headphone, to his friends in Japan about his quests. Elly’s dreams had started being invaded by neighboring horde alliances, paladins, and stealth nerfs, whatever those were. Walking into her apartment, Elly was assaulted by a variety of smells: old burritos, expired sandwich meat that had been left out, body odor, and one aroma that could only be described as “cheesy feet.” The bathroom was…. Elly shook her head. She couldn’t even talk about it. Every effort to talk to Dennis ended with him saying quickly, “Well, I better get back to my game.” Elly found herself drifting, unsure of where this was going, unwilling to bring it up. And she couldn’t bring it up with Keith, because he stubbornly stood by the suggestion that Elly get the DNA test. He couldn’t see that everyone in Dennis’s life had pushed him away, and that Elly wouldn’t be that person.

  Dennis let out a loud burp and put his coffee cup on Elly’s antique coffee table. She swiftly picked it up. “Coaster,” she mumbled.

  “It’s just a table,” he grumbled back.

  In that moment, Elly missed Cadbury. He might poop inside occasionally, but at least he didn’t leave coffee rings on her table. “I’m heading out,” she announced. “I’m meeting Lola Plumb at her wedding venue today.”

  Dennis gave a sigh. “You’re so lucky. She’s so flipping hot. I saw her in Maxim last year … oh man.” Elly gave him a warning look. “What I meant was, oh man, she should not degrade herself in that way.”

  Ah, so there was a sense of humor in there somewhere, thought Elly. Maybe she wouldn’t murder him after all. “I have to run. Would you mind maybe … doing the dishes?”

  Dennis shrugged. “Maybe. Ahora’s getting on later, so I need to be there for that. Or I might stop by the new store.” Of course he would. Dennis had developed a serious obsession with Snarky Teenager, and had taken to trailing her around like a puppy dog. Elly allowed her to use him for manual labor only because it occasionally awarded her a few hours of blissful silence, just her and her many scented candles.

  “Great. Well, I’ll see
ya later.”

  “Enjoy your bread and circuses!” crowed Dennis. There was a minute of awkward silence.

  “Uh … yeah,” said Elly. She closed the door behind her.

  It jerked open again. Dennis leaned his head out. “Your hair looks weird. I just thought I should tell you.”

  “Thanks,” snapped Elly.

  Dennis looked hurt. “Uh, the dress looks nice, though.”

  Elly gave him an annoyed smile. She was already late. The door slammed behind her.

  The Fabulous Fox Theater, located in midtown St. Louis, was a place of legend. It had opened in 1929 by William Fox, and was designed by Howard Crane, a world-famous architect and very worldly man for his time. It was modeled after the Hindu mosques of old India, a dazzling display of golden warrior statues and Hindu gods that hovered over the audiences. Elly had seen several shows there under its exotic jeweled glory, including the latest tours to come from Broadway. When she and Kim walked in, there was never anything less than silent awe played across their faces. Bronze monkeys, elephants, tigers, and snakes covered every surface above and around the stage. All the fabrics were an opulent mix of reds, purples, and golds. You didn’t see a show at the Fox—you saw the Fox while a show played in the background. This, she marveled, just outside the large box-office doors, was indeed the perfect place for a celebrity to get married. Do I knock? She peered through the black doors. She could make out Gemma, standing inside with a cameraman. Oh. Great.

  Gemma looked in her direction, rolled her eyes, and stomped over, her thigh-high boots thudding so loudly that they could be heard even outside the door. “You’re late.”

  Elly looked at her watch. Today was not the day to pick on Elly Jordan. “Actually, I’m right on time. At least, according to American time.”

  Gemma pushed the door open as she gave Elly a bewildered look. “We’re right inside. We just finished filming Lola’s reaction to the venue—surprise!, she has seen it twice already—and we are just wrapping up our shots of her and the venue coordinator talking.”

  Elly was confused. “So, if you are finished filming, why am I here?”

  Gemma looked at her like she was the stupidest person she had ever seen. “You and Lola are coming up with her floral plan for the wedding.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes, here. Or do you not do site visits with your clients?”

  Elly could feel her temper rising. “No, we do, I was just under the impression that this would just be a walk-and-talk kind of thing.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, you were misinformed. The caterers have prepared a nice lunch for you guys in the Griffin restaurant.” Oh. Well, at least there was lunch. “Lola has a strict vegetarian diet, so I hope that’s fine with …,” she eyed Elly up and down, “you.” Oh, well, there went that.

  “I have to run to my car to get a consultation sheet,” said Elly. Gemma gestured to the door. Elly stalked back to the car in the dripping heat. Stupid Gemma. Stupid Dennis. That’s what this was really about, wasn’t it? She flung her cardigan into the backseat. Well, today a movie star would have to deal with her chunky arms and saddlebags. Too bad. By the time she arrived back inside the Fox, Gemma was heading out—thank goodness—and Lola was waiting for Elly at the top of a long, red staircase, like they were in an old Hollywood romance. Only, in this romance, the heroine was an alcoholic, and the hero was a chubby woman with a new brother who did nothing.

  Elly slowly climbed the grand stairs, making it up much faster than she should have.

  “Hey, Elly!” Lola seemed a bit better today, if still a little fragile. She was wearing a short black dress with a checkerboard top. The dress only had one sleeve, and swooped loosely over her chest area. Huge red stilettos almost blended in with the red stairs. Her strawberry blond hair was piled loosely on top of her head, holding a gigantic pair of white sunglasses firmly in place.

  Elly felt suddenly undressed. And Dennis had said her hair looked crazy. Crap.

  “Elly!” Lola wrapped her in a unexpected hug. She was a tiny person and practically folded into Elly like a delicate piece of origami. Elly felt bones in Lola’s back. “I’m excited for our consultation. I have so many great ideas that I have been discussing with Joe.”

  Elly let out a long breath. “Wonderful! I can’t wait to hear them. I have my consultation sheets right here.” She held out the crumpled papers. “Sorry. I didn’t know we would be making actual decisions today.”

  Lola gave her a kind smile. “That okay. Gemma’s a little scary.”

  Elly suddenly liked her immensely. “She totally is.”

  They sat down in the empty Griffin dining room, filled with tiny winged gargoyles, white linen tables, and expensive-looking stemware. The lights were dimmed. The whole scene was intimate—and sort of creepy. Elly looked around. “Do you always have to eat alone like this?”

  Lola gave a nod. “We can’t really go anywhere without being mobbed or photographed. Mostly, we try to stay in, but I get cabin fever really quickly.” She looked down. “I’m hoping it goes away when we’re married. Who would care then what we do?”

  Everyone, thought Elly, with a generous dose of sympathy. She smoothed out her papers as the waiter walked over. “Hello, Miss Plumb. My name is Hurley. What can I get for you today?”

  Lola bit her lip. “Could you do a garden vegetable soufflé, braised artichokes, and an eggplant parmesan?”

  The waiter bowed. He bowed! “And you … Miss?”

  “Jordan,” Elly replied.

  “And what can I get for you?”

  Elly looked around. “I think I might need a menu.”

  “Oh, no menu for you. We will make you whatever your heart desires.”

  Elly’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

  He grinned. He had a cute face. “Seriously.”

  Elly thought for a moment. What she was really craving was a sandwich and a kiss from Keith, but unfortunately, those weren’t offered here. “Okay, Hurley, how about a petite sirloin with sautéed mushrooms, braised artichokes, and … Georgia pecan pie?”

  He gave her a dazzling grin. “Of course, ma’am.”

  Elly looked at Lola, disoriented and amazed. Lola looked bored, twisting her signature red hair into a braid. The waiter drifted silently back into the darkness of the kitchen. They were alone. Elly cleared her voice, ready to do what she did best. “So, what are you thinking for your bridal bouquet? After all, that’s the foundation of your flowers.”

  Lola fidgeted. “What does Gemma want me to have?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me what Gemma wants.” This was not entirely true.

  Lola looked back at Elly and then gave a giggle. They were conspirators. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Lola sat back. “Well, you know my colors are navy-blue pinstripes with a bright pink, right?”

  “I do.”

  Lola bit her fingernail. They were chewed to nubs. “Well, I love wildflowers. I like those white and pink carnations a lot.”

  Oh dear, thought Elly. “Okay. Any other flowers?”

  “I like lily of the valley.”

  Now we’re talking, thought Elly. “I think the combination of the peonies and the lily of the valley would be stunning. Stunning and simple and elegant.”

  “I like those because they bloomed in my yard growing up. Dahlias, too. And delphinium. Then, I thought we could spray or dye them hot pink and navy. Like, every other one?”

  Elly stared back at Lola. Oh no. She tried to compose her face into a mask of approval. “We could do that. Or, we could just use maybe bright combo of the flowers with a navy wrap….”

  Lola shook her head. “No, I like the dyed hot pink and navy flowers. And I was thinking that we could put like, rhinestones in each one? Plus, if we do the centerpieces made of navy flowers with diamonds, I think that would be really pretty. What do you think?”

  How could she not have seen it?, Elly wondered as she looked at Lola anew. Behind all her makeup, des
igner clothes, and professional team of yes-people, Lola was still a small-town girl, dazzled by bright things and small dogs and silk glitter flowers. In short, she had questionable taste. No wonder Gemma was trying to take over the design. When someone dressed you every day, how did you know what your real style was? How did you develop your own preference for anything, let alone flowers? Lola Plumb appeared to be a designer-clothing model, but inside she preferred to wear Kmart. Of course.

  Elly sat back in her chair. She had to approach this gently. This wasn’t the first time she had been asked to do something that appalled her design sense. “Navy-blue roses aren’t a natural color in the flower world. We would, indeed, have to dye or spray them, and that can look,” she paused, raising her eyebrow gently, “cheap.”

  Lola ran her fingers over the water glass. “But you can do it, right?”

  Elly gave a slow nod. “I can, but it’s not something we do on a regular basis.”

  Lola looked offended. “Well, I am not a regular client.”

  Elly immediately sensed that she had stepped over some invisible celebrity line. “You are right. We can do whatever your heart desires.” Even if your heart’s desire is unnatural.

  “Good. For the bridesmaids, I was thinking, like, pink carnations, delphinium, and then maybe some of those swirly glitter sticks?”

  Elly inwardly cringed.

  “I just love the way that looks. And you can match the guy’s bouts for that. Joe loves amaryllis, can you do that for a bout?”

  “Amaryllis is a very big flower—that could make for a really, really large boutonniere.”

  “Oh, Joe doesn’t care about that. I would love one of those in navy blue. They are wearing khaki linen suits, so it will stand out.” Yes it will, thought Elly. Like a sore thumb. “For the ceremony, I love those big white calla lilies. I think the ceremony should be all whites and pinks, with the reception all navy.”