DevilinTexas

by Calista Fox

She was just handing them over like that? This would never happen in New York.

  “Um, okay. What else do you need?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jess laughed. “This is such a huge help. Really!” She spared a glance at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to run so I’m not late for the pre-service greeting. You can have everything to the Elks Lodge by ten, set up and be ready for the ladies to arrive at noon, right?”

  “I think I can manage.” How many dinner parties had she thrown for doctors and their wives, after all?

  “Great! I’ll meet you at the Lodge as soon as I’m done at church.” She positively glowed, as though having this big chore off her chest so she could enjoy Sunday service was a huge deal. Liza considered it her contribution to those who worshipped.

  “Go,” she said. “I can handle this.”

  Jess rushed out the front door and Liza eyed the work station before her.

  Hmm.

  There were four large rolls of colored foil wrapping mounted in the middle of the table, which split the space in half, length-wise, so that two people could design arrangements on either side of each other. She eyed the dozen-plus potted orchids, all in assorted varieties, and then debated how she was going to match the four foiled colors to the different orchid colors, so that she didn’t make anything clash.

  This coming from a woman with copper-colored streaks in her hair.

  Frowning, she lifted a pot and set it on the worktable. It was white—she decided to start easy. She pulled the shimmery purple foil from its roll, not exactly sure how much she needed, and ripped it off along the serrated edge above the roll. Laying it flat on the table, foil-side down, she set the pot in the center and immediately deduced she’d hacked off way too much material.

  Crap.

  She made some mental measurements and reached for the scissors. By the time she was done and was trying to neatly wrap the foil around the plastic pot as Jess had so expertly done, she realized she’d trimmed off too much paper.

  With a grimace, she tossed aside the worthless foil and tried again. Who knew this could be so complicated? Several sheets later, she had a workable square and used it as a template to measure another twelve sheets.

  Neatly wrapping the decorative paper around the pots was another story altogether. Liza tried to make tight creases as Jess had done with her demo and tuck a little into the soil so that the remainder of the foil framed the stalks of the flowers. But hers lacked the elegant flair Jess had captured.

  Factoring a satin bow into the equation was no easy feat. She tied the first one four different times before swearing up a blue streak. It took her nearly an hour just to get the orchids ready. Then she rooted through the coolers until she found the centerpieces designated for the luncheon. An uneasy feeling mingled with a hint of panic as she realized how late she was running. She loaded the flowers into the van and climbed into the driver’s seat. She inserted the key in the ignition and started the vehicle… Only to realize she had absolutely no idea where the hell she was going. Reaching for her purse, she searched for her cell phone.

  “Oh holy fuck!” She stared heavenward as she rolled her eyes. She hadn’t returned her phone to her purse the morning Reverend Bain had interrupted her and Jack.

  Doing everything she could to keep the sexy cowboy from her mind—along with visions of more things she wanted him to do to her before the confirmed bachelor moved on—she climbed out of the van and went back into the flower shop. She found the Yellow Pages and located the Elks Lodge, but still needed to map it out. Her gaze landed on Jess’ computer, but it wasn’t booted up. And she didn’t think she had the time to wait for it or navigate whatever operating system Jess used in her attempt to get to Google Maps.

  She considered calling Jack, but didn’t want to bother him with her trivial mishap. So she called the Lodge and luckily got someone on the line willing to give her detailed directions.

  Back in the van, she assumed she was heading west, hoping like hell she didn’t get lost. Because there wasn’t a building or a car in sight to save her sorry ass if she did. Nothing but unmarked back roads in Hill Country.

  Sure enough, trying to find Pine Bluff was a little like navigating Blind Man’s Bluff in a thick patch of fog and rain—and it wasn’t even raining.

  Her nerves were a bit jangled as she took a series of turns and ended up on a desolate road, not even certain she was going the right way. She glanced up at the sky, looking for the sun to see in which direction it was still rising. But the tops of the enormous pine trees surrounding the narrow dirt road she was on made it impossible to see the sun while it was still at an angle.

  Come noon, she might get a good sense of which way was east and which was west. But by then, it’d be too damn late.

  Her gaze fell to the clock on the console, only to find that it was already ten-thirty. That gave her just an hour and a half to transform an Elks Lodge meeting room into an elegant forum for the Junior League. That’s if she wasn’t horrifically lost in Hill Country.

  And without a cell phone, damn it.

  But just as her panic started to mount—because she was terrified she’d mess up the assignment and leave Jess in a worse pickle—the pine trees opened to a large clearing that housed a very simple building with peeling beige paint and faded dark-brown trim. The small sign in the yard read “Elks Lodge”.

  Ah. She’d arrived.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Liza parked by what looked to be the service entrance and started unloading the van.

  “Hey,” a young kid of maybe nineteen said as he stepped outside.

  “Hey,” she shot back.

  He was about to light up a cigarette, but changed his mind and stuck the unlit stick in his shirt pocket. “You must be the lady who called earlier for directions. You’re new in town.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He came around to the back of the van and eyed the way she’d carefully packed the arrangements so they wouldn’t fall over. “Need some help?”

  “I’d appreciate it. I’m running a little late.”

  He hefted a box containing seven of the thirteen orchids. Liza lifted the other one and followed the kid into the back of the Lodge. He was dressed in jeans and a black bowling shirt, with worn tennis shoes and what she guessed to be cutting-edge, teenaged hair because the brown strands were styled with such obvious, painstaking effort. The short, wispy spikes stood straight up on top of his head, like neatly trimmed grass. And didn’t move.

  “The Junior League meets in here,” he said as they entered a depressingly bleak room with grayish-colored, faux-wood-paneled walls and stained dark blue carpet.

  Must be the ladies got the room for free for their meetings. Liza certainly couldn’t see the Manhattan Junior League meeting in a place like this. But then again…

  This is Oz, Dorothy.

  She set her box at the end of the long, heavy-duty plastic table and went back for the linen. She was going to need it.

  When she returned, the kid said, “I’m Sean. I manage the kitchen. The caterer has already been by. The food is staying warm in the oven—do you want to check it out?”

  “Sure. I’m Liza, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He gave her a quick once-over, then said, “Cool hair.”

  She fought the grimace those words evoked, having totally forgotten about this morning’s nightmare. “Thanks,” she said. “I was thinking the same about you.”

  He grinned, then turned and led the way to the industrial-looking kitchen. A medium-size room with old appliances, maybe dating back to the Alamo. He opened the oven door and the greasy aroma of fried chicken permeated the air. Making her stomach churn.

  “How’s the food served for this hoe-down?”

  He laughed. “I just set the aluminum containers on top of the stove, put the plates and forks out and let ‘em have at it.”

  “Hmm.” Not very civilized for “Ladies Who Lunch”.

  Seemed to her the women who belonged to th
e Junior League would prefer a more elegant luncheon—and venue. But Liza had to make do with the tools in her toolbox.

  “You can help yourself to anything you want,” Sean said, as though he could see her brain whirling with possibilities for sprucing up this shindig. “There’s some stuff packed away in the cupboards and storage room—all left over from parties when we rent out the hall.”

  This made her ears perk up. “Really? I can poke around and use whatever I want?”

  “Knock your socks off,” he said. “Just check the expiration date on anything edible. No telling how long it’s been tucked away.”

  “Good tip,” she said. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Sure. I’ll be in here watching the chicken crisp.”

  “Don’t let it burn.”

  She left the kitchen and returned to the dismal meeting room. Surveying the space she had to work with, she realized she could just throw the tablecloth over the table, set the folded napkins at every place setting, put out the flowers and be done with it.

  But that really wasn’t her style.

  Consulting her watch, Liza was a little anxious to know she only had an hour left before the ladies would arrive. Less time before Jess would get here.

  She really didn’t want to disappoint her new boss. Underachieving wasn’t exactly in her blood. And, admittedly, she wanted to impress Jess and confirm that hiring her was a good decision.

  Wrapping orchids in foil may not be Liza’s forte, but impromptu parties were. And having worked in the stressful field of PR, where every event, press conference and speech could make or break a company’s reputation, she was the epitome of grace under pressure.

  She went to work, starting with the table. Clearing it, she spread the white linen cloth over it from end to end, covering the hideous gray plastic. Then she retrieved the chipped white plates from the kitchen and set them in front of every chair. Rooting around in the kitchen drawers didn’t help her to find anything useful with which to fashion napkin holders. Frowning and tapping her foot on the scuffed linoleum floor, she debated her options. Sean watched with curiosity in his dark brown eyes.

  “Aha,” she muttered to herself as an idea formed in her head. “Scissors?” she asked. He dug out a pair from a drawer and handed them over.

  Back in the meeting room, Liza removed one of the bright yellow satin bows from an orchid pot and turned it into thirteen long, thin ribbons. Folding the napkins so they looked like fans—apropos for southern belles in the summer heat, she thought—she wrapped the ribbon around their bases and tied them in bows. With the scissors, she lightly curled the ends of the ribbon, giving them an elegant, yet dainty touch. She placed an adorned fan-napkin in the center of every plate, then added the mismatched flatware in formal fashion.

  Jess’ centerpieces were beautiful arrangements, with flowers and greenery that covered low-arching metal frames. The blooms were held in place by the foam built into the framework. Greenery wound around the metal, concealing it, and other buds filled the inner part of the piece. One elegant yellow rose—surrounded by what Liza actually knew to be bluebonnet, the Texas state flower, thank you, Daddy!—served as the focal point in the middle of each arrangement. She stared at one of them for a few seconds, another great idea popping into her head.

  She raced back to the kitchen, her time limited. “Votive holders and tea lights?” she asked Sean.

  He frowned. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Little glass containers for little candles.”

  “Oh yeah, sure. Molly Barstow had her Sweet Sixteen birthday party here a couple weeks ago and there were candles galore. She got away with all those open flames on account of her daddy being the fire marshal.”

  He disappeared for a few minutes while Liza went back to the meeting room. Plucking the roses from the centers of the table arrangements, she carefully peeled off their velvety petals and scattered them around the table. She had a handful left over and considered where else they’d help to snazz up the room and make it a little more elegant, more feminine.

  Her gaze landed on the credenza against the far wall. It was framed on either side by moose or elk heads. She couldn’t tell which, really. And there was nothing she could do about the hideous creatures, but…

  She could turn the credenza into a buffet!

  Setting aside the extra petals she’d use later, she accepted the seven votive holders Sean handed over.

  “I’ll come back with the rest of the candles—tea lights?—and some matches,” he said.

  He took in her work thus far and nodded his head in apparent approval. As he went off to get the candles, Liza reached for the scissors and cut holes into the middle of the foam forms in the floral arrangements. Just big enough for her to cram a votive holder into each hole. Fluffing the greenery around the edges of the glass holders helped to hide the foam again.

  Sean came back with the tea lights and matches and she explained, “I’d like to bring the food into the room. It’ll help to get rid of the musty smell in here.” And the faint scent of cigars that was making her a tiny bit nauseous.

  “I’ve got some chafing dishes the Bains donated when they remodeled their kitchen last fall.”

  Liza cringed at the mention of that name and the thought of Lydia. “That’ll work,” she hated to admit.

  While Sean retrieved the food, she used large, white paper napkins to cover the scarred credenza and then helped him set out the chafing dishes he’d piled high with food. They placed small dishes next to each one and added the applicable serving utensil.

  “What about the bread?” he asked.

  There was nothing fancy to put the rolls in. “Basket?”

  He gave it some thought, as though searching the facility’s inventory in his head, and then said, “Nope.”

  “We’ll make our own.” She proceeded to show him how to make a bread warmer from the two remaining linen napkins they had. She placed the rolls, tucked into their little cocoons, at opposite ends of the table, so they could be passed along with the individual containers of butter Sean brought in from the fridge. They piled them neatly on white side dishes to accompany the passing of the rolls.

  Liza then scattered the rest of the yellow rose petals around the buffet area and added two votives there.

  Excited by her resourcefulness, she turned to her new friend and asked, “What do you think?”

  His eyes grew wide. “Looks a hell of a lot better than anything else I’ve seen in this room. Really, the ladies’ll be blown away.”

  “Great!” As she patted herself on the back—and hoped that the effort would be a good reflection on Jess in the Junior League’s mind—Sean burst her bubble.

  “What about the orchids?”

  “Oh shit!” She’d totally forgotten about them! She glanced at her watch, discovering she had less than fifteen minutes before the women would arrive.

  Where Jess was, she didn’t know.

  “Okay,” Liza said, thinking quickly. “Do me a huge favor and set the glasses on the table at each place setting, fill them with ice and pour the tea. I’ll figure out where to put the orchids.”

  “Say,” he said, a thought occurring to him. “There are a few bottles of sparkling cider in the fridge from Marta and Jake Olson’s fiftieth anniversary party. How about I pour it into some cups and serve it to the ladies as they come in through the front? That’ll give you time to finish up back here.”

  Liza still had boxes to dispose of and orchids to place.

  “Fantastic idea!” she beamed, resisting the urge to hug her partner in crime. “You are the absolute best assistant party planner.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “It’s been fun helping you. It’s usually pretty boring around here.” He didn’t wait for a reply. His cheeks flushed pink and he turned quickly and vanished into the hallway. Liza smiled, wondering if Sean had developed a little crush on her.

  He certainly was a great kid. And if she spent a few more hours with him, sh
e’d know everyone by name in this town, along with their birthday and anniversary dates.

  But, no time to dwell on that. She still had work to do. Using books and knickknacks to create varying heights on which to set the potted orchids, she strategically placed them around the room. Three in the far corner, two on the buffet table, four in the front corner that was just a wide gaping hole desperate to be filled. One in the center of the table, between the modified floral centerpieces. That left her with two more.

  Liza frowned. No more available surface space and the corners were covered. Her eyes shifted from one pot to the other as she held one in each hand. Then she heard a frantic voice in the hallway and her gaze lifted to the doorway.

  The doorway! Of course!

  The dingy gray door opened inward, so she could place a pot on either side of the outer frame, creating a lovely visual, inviting the ladies inside.

  After placing them, she quickly gathered up the boxes and all the tools she’d used to transform the room and was just heading out the back to the van when Jess called out to her.

  “Oh, Liza!” she said in a high-pitched voice Liza had not heard from her before. “I’m so sorry! My gosh! Service went longer than usual and then everyone was so chatty afterward and I just couldn’t find an appropriate break in the conversation to slip away and—oh!”

  She must’ve caught a flicker of candlelight in the corner of her eye because she turned abruptly and stared into the room, where Sean had just finished filling the tea glasses.

  “What have you done?”

  Liza’s stomach dropped to her knees. “Um, I just thought I’d spruce things up a bit.” Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip in nervous anticipation.

  Fuck. She hadn’t thought to ask Jess or Sean about whether there was some sort of tradition in regards to the way things were set up for the Junior League.

  Had she just ruined their entire luncheon?

  Her gaze shifted to Sean, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Looks awesome, doesn’t it, Mrs. Mills? And she totally did it in, like, less than an hour.”

  Liza held her breath, awaiting Jess’ response. Fearing the worst.