by Amelia Grace
‘Like ... origami?’
‘Sure. It’s lots of fun. Hey, nice to meet you.’ I turned to Xander. ‘Alexander,’ I said, over pronouncing his full name. ‘I need the powder room—which direction?’
He lifted his chin and looked down at me. ‘Keep walking straight ahead until you see a door on your left. It’s that way.’
‘Thank you, muchly,’ I said, and walked off, leaving him alone with his friends.
When I returned to the party, Xander was waiting for me, leaning against a tree, his right foot crossed over his left. He stepped forward and put his arm around my shoulder in a show of pretend boyfriend possession. ‘Can you find a middle ground with your answers. You can’t go telling one person you work in the defence force, and another you make paper planes. If a guy asks you a question, please answer with politeness, not aggression.’
‘Alexander, I will cease being hostile to men when women are treated on equal grounds. We are not created for men’s sexual desires, nor as submissives to bow to men’s lifestyle needs!’
Xander sighed, then frowned at me. ‘That’s a bit over the top, isn’t it? Not all men are like that ... what happened to Andi from the flower store?’
‘She’s in the same place as Xander whom I met at the flower store ...’
He lowered his head and grimaced. ‘Touché. The sooner we’re done here the sooner we can escape the façade.’ Xander rolled his eyes.
‘What?’
‘My father is approaching—2 o’clock—call him Mr Parker. Be truthful for when you meet him again for dinner one night, and in case he does a background check on you—’
‘Why would he do that—’ A poisoned arrow of anxiety pierced me, and I touched my chest scar through my dress. I calmed when I remembered he could never find out the details of that terrible day of the scars. The trial had proceeded in a closed courtroom.
‘Father, it’s great to see you again. I’d like you to meet Yolande,’ Xander said.
Xander’s father’s eyebrows shot up before he gave me a wide smile, and something else. Was it relief I saw? He took my hand in his. ‘Yolande, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Likewise, Mr Parker,’ I said.
‘I trust you are enjoying the party and meeting family and friends,’ he said.
‘Very much so. It’s the perfect location for a celebration.’
‘I hear that thanks must go to you for the bicycle appearance, I believe.’
‘Yes. It’s my grandmother’s most treasured possession.’
‘I think I’ve seen it outside Flowers for Fleur. Is that where you work?’
‘At the moment while Gram is unwell, yes, but normally I’m an aeronautical engineer in the defence force.’
‘Wow. That’s impressive. How long are you going to stay in the force?’
‘For as long as I can. I’m happy there, and it’s challenging, which I enjoy.’
‘That’s wonderful. You kids enjoy the party. I must keep circulating amongst the guests. It’s lovely to meet you, Yolande. See you next time, for dinner.’ Mr Parker leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then pulled Xander into a tight hug and patted his back. I think it was a sign of approval.
Xander held my hand as we walked to the pop-up bar. ‘Do you really work as an aeronautical engineer?’
He hates me now ... ‘You told me to tell the truth.’
‘Yes, I did.’ He hung his head as we walked. His mood had just taken a dive.
‘I’m still Andi from the flower shop, except I know exactly why planes don’t fall out of the sky.’ My voice was flat.
‘I know. It’s just ... I miscalculated you.’
I frowned at him. My heart started to ache. ‘Meaning?’
He looked at me. ‘I ... I—’
My phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my pocket and turned away from him as tears pooled in my eyes. I blinked them away as best as I could.
GRAMPS: Gram is in hospital again.
More tests. She has asked if you can open
the shop tomorrow. xxx
ME: Sure.
I lifted my head to the sky. I really wanted to return to the air force base where my steel-capped work boots were part of the uniform.
He miscalculated me? What does that mean?
I really wanted to run. In my court shoes. Dr Jones said I could run in my court shoes ...
‘Is everything okay?’ He was behind me, closer than I wanted him to be. I could smell his scent—citrus with a hint of liquorice, vanilla, lavender perhaps, and a touch of sandalwood?
I turned to face him. ‘Gram’s back in hospital. She’s having medical tests.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
I shook my head. ‘You know ... she was the only one who believed in me when I said I wanted to design planes when I was little ... she would say, “You can do it, Landi. Girls can do anything!” Ma said I should pursue my career in ballet. But I was too fascinated by planes and helicopters. Gramps would buy me every book and magazine about flight that he saw.’
‘I’m glad you followed your dreams,’ Xander said.
‘What about you, Alexander, you know heaps about me, but I know very little about you.’
He looked down and put his hands in his pockets. ‘Not much to tell really. I work part-time and study—’
‘Alex, we’re about to cut the cake. Come at once!’ a voice called.
Xander nodded and took my hand in his. I trailed along behind him though family and friends. I plastered a smile on my face for Xander’s sake. The perfect girlfriend. With a dark secret.
I stood back and watched his father and siblings gather around his mother for the cake ceremony. Physically, they were a stunning family. Xander was fussed over no matter where he stood. Were they protecting him from something? Were they covering up something? Or was he the adored one? The child who was treasured the most?
Parents aren’t supposed to love one child more than the others. But they do. Surely. I was the inconvenient one. The one who was problematic. A blemish on the family after that terrible day of the scars.
The guests broke out into a boisterous rendition of “Happy Birthday”. It was clear that Mrs Parker was dearly loved. She made a magnificent speech that made me feel like life was indeed bearable. I wondered what it felt like to live a life of privilege as she has had—everyday filled with a blue sky and a sun shining down, carving a golden path to walk upon.
I looked at Xander. His eyes were on me. He raised one eyebrow and gave a small smile. I raised one eyebrow and smiled back, and that curious heat ran through me again.
There was a flurry of movement as guests descended on the tea and coffee cart. A barista had been hired for the event. I joined the queue and ordered two cups of tea.
I walked over to Xander and handed one to him. ‘You look like you need a cup of tea.’
‘Am I that transparent?’
‘No. It’s just the way your siblings fuss over you, you must be a tea drinker, not coffee.’
‘Do I seem flustered?’
‘No—annoyed—like they won’t let you grow up.’
‘And so you see the need to break away from the family. They can be suffocating at times. Did you learn to read people in the defence force?’
‘No. Selling flowers teaches a lot about people types.’ I sipped my tea and stuck my pinky finger out. It was something Mia and I always did to see how people would react. Most of the time they pretended not to see it. But Xander laughed, almost spilling his hot beverage. I walked away and collected a large portion of birthday cake, then stood to the side and watched people. Just me and my cup of tea and a large piece of cake. A girl couldn’t be happier. Well ... this girl, at least, with the mask covering her past and her dark secret. This girl for whom life was a struggle.
I watched as Xander roamed about the guests, chatting. Did he do that by choice, or was it his duty? After a short while he walked over to me. ‘How’s the cake?’
‘Delicious, thanks
.’
‘Your two hours is up. Time to go,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘That was the deal—the bicycle and you for two hours, plus to accompany me for dinner one night.’
Used. I felt used. I had an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, my tea tasted bitter. I put down my teacup, closed my eyes and ran my fingers over my eyebrows.
When I looked up, Xander stood with his head down, his hands in his pockets.
‘I’ll just go and say goodbye to your parents and sisters. Not because I’m pretending to be your “girlfriend”, but because it’s the right thing to do.’ I cleared my throat.
Xander took my hand in his while we said our goodbyes. The perfect lie. I was an accomplice. In exactly what, I didn’t know.
The return walk to Flowers for Fleur was quiet. I didn’t have anything to say to him. He should have asked Gram if he could “use” me and the bicycle for his mother’s birthday celebration—because that’s what he did.
‘Thanks for being a great tag-along, Yolande. Your acting audition as a girlfriend was believable.’
‘Good. I hope it helped you in whatever way it was meant to. The truth always has a way of coming out, you know. And it will set you free.’ I took the bicycle from him.
‘I know ... but it has to be when the time is right for me.’ He gazed into my eyes, then frowned.
While I secured the bicycle inside the shop and locked the doors, he left. Without a word.
I looked down at my pink court shoes. I should have worn the steel-capped work boots.
Chapter Fourteen
‘FLOWERS, TEA, COFFEE ... OR BOOKS?’ I was recording a sale in Gram’s accounting book while the words flowed automatically.
‘Sex.’
I froze. It was a male voice: deep, and to the point. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A confident statement. Right then and there, I decided to never again ask the flower question without looking at the customer first.
I looked up. ‘Ssssex? You have come here for ... sex?’ He looked familiar. I cleared my throat.
‘Yes. Flowers for sex. Flowers that will make my partner want to have sex.’ He was the colour of vermilion, an orange-red that spoke of desire, sexual passion, and a hunger for action.
I breathed a sigh of relief and frowned. Then I wanted to tell him that his partner would want to have sex because of him, not because of the flowers. But I didn’t. ‘Do you love her?’
‘Him—yes!’
I hesitated. His unexpected answer threw me for a moment. I gathered my thoughts. ‘If I was him, I would like the “I love you, flowers”. It will make the sex more passionate.’
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. ‘I think I agree.’
‘Roses, tulips, sunflowers, carnations, azaleas ... orchids, perhaps. These are the flowers of love.’ I waited while he thought and tapped my work boot to see if I was physically here. My pretend florist knowledge was becoming too real and too easy to regurgitate.
He pressed his lips together and nodded. ‘Can I have a combination of all of those?’
‘Sure. Which colours?’
‘What’s the colour of love, according to a florist?’
‘Red for passion and coral for desire and love, and pink. You can choose one, two or all.’
‘Passion, desire, love ... I have to have a mixture.’
‘In a mixture of flower types?’
‘Please.’
‘Sure. Have a complimentary tea or coffee while I create your flowers for sex. Go and say hi to Darcy and tell him that Andi sent you over. What’s your name for when the flowers are ready?’
‘Josh ... and are you sure about the complimentary tea or coffee?’
‘Absolutely. Enjoy, Josh.’ He was the one who wrapped his arms around Xander at the garden party.
He gave me a sly smile: lips closed, left eyebrow raised, then wandered off to the café.
I frowned, then recorded the order in the sales book and headed to the workbench. I pulled out Gram’s Book of Fantastical Flower Designs.
Hmmm ... flowers for sex ... would it be under fondness, foreplay or fornication? Technically they weren’t married, so it’s fornication. But the word fornication doesn’t sound like love. Fondness is more like what I think he feels. But then again, the flowers are acting as foreplay ... Ahh! A combination of the three. I studied the illustrated designs by Gram and created a new bouquet—Armour, by Andi. Perfect. Red and orange roses, tulips and carnations, with a touch of eucalyptus baby blue. I wrapped the stems in Hessian and string before I placed the bouquet into a fancy white paper bag. I added a “Flowers for Fleur” sticker to the front and the order was complete.
I smiled to myself and walked over to Josh. I stopped before him as he sipped on a coffee. ‘“Amour, by Andi”. I hope you like my design,’ I said.
His eyes wandered over the flower arrangement and he smiled, widely. ‘I don’t like them ... I love them! Thanks, Andi.’
‘I’ll keep them at the sales counter until you’ve finished your coffee.’ I smiled at him, then returned to the sales desk where a queue of customers waited, and where I replayed the scene at the party where Josh put his arm around Xander. And where Xander refused to look at him.
My heart took a nose dive. I looked down at my steel-capped work boots and tapped them twice on the wooden floor. I now knew I would never have to use them with Xander. I was as safe as a girl could be with him, and Josh.
I looked up at my next customer. ‘Flowers?’ I asked.
‘Hello, beautiful!’ He was the colour of gold: success, achievement and triumph.
I shrunk inside of myself. I couldn’t be beautiful on the outside with my scars. And I couldn’t be beautiful on the inside because I let go of Mia’s hand. ‘How can I help you?’
‘I just bought a new car. So I need to buy some flowers for my wife. Win-win. You know ...’ He winked at me.
I hated winks. It meant that he was either lying, or telling me a secret that I must not tell. He had just implicated me in his untruth, in one ... simple ... act. Of course, winks could also be a friendly gesture, like when Darcy winked at me. But not this wink—it was different ...
‘Cool,’ I said, finding my inner calm to override the annoyance I felt. ‘What type of car did you buy?’
‘A Bugatti Chiron.’
Wow! ‘Colour?’
‘Red.’
‘Niiiiice! Do you want red flowers for your wife, then?’
He took an audible breath. ‘No ... I think a rainbow of coloured flowers, thanks darl!’
I looked down to stop myself giving him the evil eye. I hated endearing names from men. They made me feel yuck, and it felt manipulative. ‘Rainbow flowers coming up. Please have a complimentary coffee while I create a large bouquet of blooms for your lovely wife, Mr ...’
‘Peter—my first name.’
‘Wonderful. I will bring your “win-win” flowers over to you once I have prepared them, Peter.’
‘Thanks,’ he said and walked away.
I had a plan. And it involved a pricey sum for flowers. Plus, a bottle of wine ... no ... champagne was the celebration drink, wasn’t it? After all, his car status symbol wasn’t cheap. His wife will think he is a wonderful husband.
Charlotte burst through the doors of Flowers for Fleur with her colour of bumble bee yellow, innocently and infectiously happy. Timely. She was a life saver. Did Gramps call her in? She grabbed her apron and gave me a hug. I looked over at Darcy. Did he call her in?
‘Thanks for taking over the sales desk. I have blooming designs to create ... you have no idea how thankful I am that you’re here!’
Charlotte gave me a smile then turned her attention to the next customer.
I walked over to the flower art workbench and opened Gram’s Book of Fantastical Flower Designs. I ran my finger down the contents page. And there it was. Flaunt. He was flaunting his wealth. Perfect. Page 29.
alstroemeria (lily o
f the Incas)
available in a rainbow of colours
I raised my eyebrows. Your wish has been granted, Peter the Bugatti owner. I entered the cold storage room and gathered twenty stems of alstroemeria, totalling sixty colourful flowers. I placed them into a clear bulbous vase and tied five strands of natural raffia around the neck of the vase. I spritzed the blooms with a flower preserver and went to the storeroom to fetch a lovely bottle of pink champagne, which I gift wrapped in a white carry bag. I took out my phone and photographed my creation. Gram would be delighted. This aeronautical engineer was getting the hang of this florist gig. I carried the Lily of the Incas-vased bouquet and champagne bag to Peter, who was sitting by the window in the café, gazing out at his new, red car.
‘Presenting your rainbow of flowers, plus champagne to celebrate your “win-win”. Please pay Charlotte at the sales desk before you leave. Enjoy your new car. And, ah ... don’t go trying to break the 42 second world record in your Bugatti ...’
Peter looked at the flowers and then to me with a crooked smile. ‘Perfect, thank you. How do you know about the world record?’
‘I’m an aeronautical engineer pretending to be a florist to help out my Gram. Design and speed is my specialty.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m impressed. I knew there was a reason I stopped at Flowers for Fleur!’
I smiled at him. ‘Nothing is too expensive, nothing is too beautiful. We always work with the customer, as Bugatti does.’
Peter laughed. I had just quoted the Bugatti motto for his benefit. He would be back to buy flowers for his wife in the future.
‘Enjoy,’ I said, then returned to the workbench of flower imagination. There were orders to fulfil and have delivered.
Darcy placed a cup of tea on the workbench for me.
‘Thanks.’
‘Do you know who that guy was that you gave the flowers to?’
‘Sure, he’s a Bugatti Chiron owner,’ I said.
‘And?’
‘And that’s all I know. Should I know more?’ I asked.
Darcy narrowed his eyes at me. ‘I guess that’s all you need to know. I think Gram will be very happy with your customer liaison skills—especially with Bugatti owners.’
