Snowdrop Kisses Part Nineteen
A Christmas love story featuring a plucky florist and a tall dark and handsome entrepreneur
Previously… in Part 18 Wendy and James share a kiss and Kim persuades Wendy to go to the party.
Chapter 37
“I didn’t think you had anything to wear,” James said as he gazed at Wendy in her party finery.
She stared back, trying to make room in her mental inventory for this new image of James. Wearing a black tuxedo that fit him to perfection his tie, hanging undone from his neck, he looked delicious. “Kim had an extra dress.”
James tore his eyes away her. He shifted and looked uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry about this afternoon…”
Wendy didn’t want him to apologize for that kiss. She didn’t want to hear that he thought it was a terrible mistake. “Let’s just call this afternoon an aberration. At least we weren’t yelling at each other, for once.” She looked at him and he smiled.
“Okay,” he agreed. “That’s probably smart.” He straightened his shoulders. “Is Kim around? I was hoping she could help me.” He tugged at the tie with a self-deprecating grin.
“She’s taking a shower, but I can help.” The words had left her lips before she considered their implication. Wendy walked over and reached for his tie. She stared at her hands, as they made the bow, trying to ignore the heat from his body and how easy it would be to lean up and press her lips against him. It seemed to take hours as her fingers struggled with the material, but at last it was done. She stepped away not trusting herself to stay close to him.
“There,” she said, proud that her voice wasn’t shaking. “It’s not even crooked.”
“Thanks. Can I repay the favour by escorting you downstairs?”
She hesitated for a second. On one hand, spending time with James was dangerous, but on the other, she’d feel less nervous entering the party on his arm. “That would be great.”
They linked arms and she leaned against his hard bicep to help keep Kim’s shoes on her feet. At the top of the staircase, Wendy had second thoughts. She could hear music wafting up and the sound of tinkling glasses and laughter. What was she doing in this borrowed dress, going to this fancy party? She barely knew anyone there. This was a mistake. Her heart pounded and her legs felt like they would give way at any moment.
“What’s that you’re humming, Wendy?”
Her eyes flew to his face. “I don’t know. I always hum when I’m nervous.”
He looked surprised. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”
Wendy managed a smile. “That’s because I’m usually too busy getting annoyed with you to remember to be nervous.”
James’ smile calmed her and she suddenly felt like she could handle the party. They started to descend, Wendy paying attention to her step so she didn’t fall. Halfway down the flight, she tore her eyes away from her feet, and looked around. The guests were arriving. Already about fifty people stood in the foyer, handing their coats to white-jacketed waiters or sipping from champagne flutes. Wendy saw the glimmer of diamonds, the sparkle of countless couture sequins, and the impeccable coifs of some of Ottawa’s most important people. She spotted a famous ballet dancer, a local television news anchor and at least two prominent politicians.
Then, a pair of eyes pierced hers. Catriona was staring up at her with such a furious look of annoyance, that Wendy was surprised the other woman’s mascara wasn’t melting. For a moment Wendy wondered if it was too late for her to make a run for it. Given her track record in heels, she’d probably fall flat on her face.
James must have felt her hesitate. “Don’t worry, Wendy,” he murmured in her ear. “I won’t let you fall.”
She looked up and gave him a wide, wobbly grin of thanks. He seemed caught off guard by the smile, and stared back at her intently. They broke eye contact to navigate the steps.
At the bottom of the stairs a crowd of well-wishers swallowed James. Wendy was all but ignored. She stepped out of the way and Catriona glided up to James, putting her arm around his waist. Like a snake, thought Wendy, if snakes had arms. Although a snake with arms was probably more of a lizard. She shook her head. This was not a useful line of thought.
Catriona looked fantastic. Her hair was swept up and held in place by beautifully worked golden butterfly clips. Her long neck was emphasized by the large dangling gold and ruby earrings she wore, and her gold lamé dress fit her like a second skin. Her high-heeled shoes gave her an extra two inches, making her almost as tall as James. Together they were an impressive pair. Wendy wandered away from them both, feeling deflated.
Chapter 38
Wendy found a less inhabited corner where she could observe her surroundings. Hundreds of candles dotted the tables, lighting up the ballroom and glinting off the chandelier. The tablecloths were of the finest white linen. The tuxedoed waiters served canapés on sterling silver trays. The Waterford crystal champagne flutes were filled with the best bubbly money could buy. A four-piece ensemble played something jazzy in one corner. Her flower arrangements were bursts of vibrant, festive colour, bringing life and beauty to an already gorgeous scene. Her heart filled with pride. She had worked so hard to build up her business, and tonight felt like the culmination of all her sacrifice.
It was the perfect scene and now she needed to exploit it. This was her chance to put her business on the map with Ottawa’s elite. If she could carry this off, she could go home and burn that damn Santa suit. No, it was a seasonal rental. She needed her deposit back.
Two older women were chatting to her left.
“Isn’t everything beautiful?” asked the taller of the two.
“Yes,” said the woman in the silver satin ball gown. She touched a flower from one of Wendy’s arrangements. “These are unusual, aren’t they?”
Wendy ran her tongue over her teeth to make sure she had nothing stuck in them. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t help but overhear your comment. These are a ranunculus — they’re beautiful aren’t they? I find the loose, poppy-like blossom very romantic. You know the name is from the Latin for frog.”
“Frog!” exclaimed the tall woman. “How odd.”
“They originate in Asia,” Wendy explained, “and first grew in swampy areas.”
Ten minutes later, Kim found Wendy surrounded by a small crowd of people. They were listening as she explained the origins and differences between the flowers in the various arrangements.
Wendy excused herself from her admirers but before she left the lady in the silver satin said, “Tell us where your store is, again?”
Wendy smiled. “Bank Street, near the Glebe.” She turned to Kim as they walked away. “Thank you so much for convincing me to come. This has been fantastic!”
“I’m so glad, Wendy. Oh look, there’s Tonya from the office.” They made their way to the far end of the room. Tonya, the LCC receptionist was hanging out with gang of software designers. Kim wandered off to do her “enforced mingling” as she called it and Wendy spent most of the night with Tonya’s group. She relaxed, laughed and made sure to plug Love's Bouquet at every opportunity.
Despite the fun she was having, she couldn’t forget who else was at the party. She often caught herself looking for James. Occasionally their eyes would meet across the room, and she would look away. Otherwise the night was spent in a cloud of good food, lovely music and fantastic people-watching.
At about eleven, Wendy bumped into Kim, who was mired in conversation with a short, chubby man. Kim’s eyes were glazed as the man droned on: “I had the pond in front of me, but I was determined to get a birdie, so I took out my four iron… Or was it my five?”
Wendy stopped to extricate Kim from the conversation, but the older woman shook her head slightly. “Save yourself,” she mouthed silently as the golfer closed his eyes in contemplation of that lost shot.
It was too late, however, because the man opened his eyes, just as the band struck up a slow Waltz. He fixed his watery gaze on Wendy, and grabbed her hand. “I’m in the mood to cut a rug, little lady. Won’t you join me?”
“Thanks, but no.”
His hand was moist and he pulled her forward.
“No, really,” she protested. “I’m a terrible dancer.” They were on the floor, now. “Honestly,” she continued. “I have no rhythm. I always try to lead, I’ll step on your toes.”
He wasn’t paying any attention, and his thick arms wrapped around her waist, incarcerating her in a prison that smelled of body odour, garlic and heavy cologne. She looked over his shoulder, but Kim could only shrug in sympathy. The man’s hand slid to the small of her back, like a slug oozing its way across her body. She imagined the sweaty clamminess of his palm seeping through her dress.
To his credit, the man did seem to know how to dance. Unfortunately, Wendy did not. He tried to move her across the floor, but she stumbled. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Let the rhythm take you. Sway your hips to the melody,” he crooned in her ear.
She suppressed a shudder and they moved jerkily around the dance floor.
“Let me lead, honey,” he hissed at her.
“Sorry.”
“Just close your eyes and relax.”
She obeyed his directive and did feel like things were getting better. Their movements were more in tune, and almost flowed. Thankfully, the song was winding down.
What was that? Her eyes flew open in disbelief. Had he just licked her earlobe? She pushed away from him, but unfortunately he chose that moment to say, “Let’s end this with a big flourish.”
“No, no. I’m not good at flourishes.” It was too late. He pulled her in tight, and then spun her out. She couldn’t keep a grip on his sweaty hand, and staggered into another couple. They lost their balance and stumbled into pedestal holding one of her enormous stage flower arrangements. The pedestal wobbled and the big bouquet teetered from its perch.
The band had just finished the song and there was a second’s lull. The entire dance floor turned to the stage, and everyone could see the calamity that was about to occur. Wendy took two steps towards the vase and slid to her knees, grabbing the crystal urn an instant before it smashed to the floor. There was a moment of silence as the entire dance floor stared down at her, clutching the vase to her chest. Wendy thought about putting the flowers down and crawling away. Instead, she stood, still holding the vase and blurted out: “At Love's Bouquet we’ll do whatever it takes to make your party a success.” The crowd laughed, and the music started back up.
Wendy heaved a sigh of relief, and placed the vase back on the pedestal. She adjusted the blossoms and took a shaky step away from the arrangement. She scanned the crowd, but could not see her sweaty tormentor – he had undoubtedly slunk away when he realised what his “flourish” had done.
She found Kim, who was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “That was an incredible save!”
Wendy laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t think I had those kind of reflexes, but I couldn’t let that vase hit the floor.”
“You handled it beautifully. Your quip about the store will drum up business.”
“Thanks. Um, you don’t think James saw all that, do you?”
“No. He’s over there, by the window.”
Wendy followed Kim’s nod and picked out James’ tall figure on the far side of the room. His back was to them, and he was speaking intently to a man about his age.
Did you enjoy this?
I’ve written a book you might get a kick out of! THE HONEYBEE EMERALDS is a lighthearted mystery set in Paris featuring four women uncovering the secrets of a beautiful diamond and emerald necklace. A finalist for the Indy Book Awards “Best First Novel,” it’s been called a “Gem of a debut.”