Burning Flowers (3 page)

“People who are nervous usually have
something to hide, Clarke. Look, I know you love the shop and all,
but you really should quit worrying so much and take some time for
yourself. I’m a mother of three with a job, and I still find time
to go take a painting class or sit and read for a while,” Katie
said without turning around. Clarke wouldn’t know what to do with
herself, though. She had never taken any spare time. She spent
college filling her schedule with community service, clubs, and
extra credit. She even had a job on the weekends and at nights just
to keep from being bored or having to find out how to relax and
have a good time. It was a scary concept for her almost.

“You know I need to make sure everything is
perfect here.” Clarke’s voice came out in barely a whisper as she
looked around at that little space she could call hers.

“It will be perfect, Clarke, because you’re
so good at planning it and choosing staff and everything. You’re so
good, this shop could run itself.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for one of us to make
a mistake so I have more of a reason to be here,” Clarke suggested
with a chuckle, only half joking.

Chapter Four

“Hey, do you have those looks pulled for my meeting? I’m about to
go grab a snack and head over there,” Clarke asked as Katie said
goodbye to a customer that bought a bouquet for his wife. It was
nearing noon which was not only her lunch time but time for a big
meeting with a potential new client. The client was the wife of a
big CEO who held a lot of events, and if she liked what Clarke had
to say, the shop would be her permanent go to. That would really
put the shop over the top and make it a place even her harsh mother
would have to be proud of. But the woman was a tough one; very
opinionated and snobby. It was hard to tell what she was going to
like or hate.

“Yes ma’am. I put them in the top drawer on
the right for you in a plain black folder,” Katie answered.

Clarke power-walked towards the back of the
flower shop with determination where the office was, her arms
pumping with effort. “Thanks; what would I do without you,
Katie?”

“Ask God for more hours in the day so you
could do it all yourself,” Katie teased. But she was probably
pretty accurate on that one.

Clarke actually managed a chuckle as she
grabbed the folder and walked back out, practically running out the
door. She would have to go back down the road and grab something
quick at the coffee shop to eat on the way there in the car. She
hated the idea of getting crumbs on her clothes or in her vehicle,
but she also did not want to waste time eating when she should be
spending the extra time with the client, making sure she made her
happy.

She walked inside to find that Joe was on
lunch and had his mouth full, which meant he couldn’t delay her
with his comments. She ran up to the counter and ordered a bagel
and cream cheese and paid before edging to the end of the counter
to wait for it to be warmed up. When it was, it was handed to her
in a small paper bag with the cream cheese already spread on
it.

Her flats clunked out the door as she ran to
her car and got in, pulling out the bagel and sticking it into her
mouth before turning on the GPS. She had programmed the woman’s
house the day before so she would be ready. She had a large estate
on the other side of town in a gated community.

Clarke chomped down the bagel practically
choking as she drove down the road, people honking at her driving
once again. But she hated wasting company time when she felt she
wasn’t doing anything. She wanted to make use of that lunch hour
and get this deal done.

She cut off a black SUV and watched the
driver flip her the bird in her rear view mirror. She just glared
and kept going, making it to Lincoln Crossing Estates in no time.
She gave her name to the pudgy guard at the gate that in no way
could stand up against a real intruder, and drove through the gate
to find the correct house.

She’d seen it in a picture once in a
business magazine she subscribed to. It didn’t look completely
unlike a small scale version of the White House. It was all white
with hardly any color at all other than a dark wood door. And it
had columns out in front.

Clarke followed the GPS through the maze of
roads until she found Prairiedog. At the end of the street, on a
cul-de-sac, sat the large mansion that she was going to be meeting
the woman in. It was a bit intimidating to think that this was the
woman she was trying to impress; one that lived in a house where
she was waited on hand and foot and had a team of decorators at her
disposal all the time. But she had promised herself she was going
to do everything in her power. She puffed up my chest and walked up
to the door which miraculously opened. The staff must have been
waiting on her.

Not a word was exchanged as she followed a
man in a suit that led her into a formal living room complete with
antique furniture and gestured for Clarke to take a seat on a green
and gold sofa. Then, he disappeared down a long hall that led to
what looked like at least half a dozen more rooms. It made her
wonder how many bedrooms and bathrooms there were to constantly be
cleaned and why in the world an old couple needed so much
space.

She nervously tapped her foot as her hands
began to shake. She lay out her plans nice and neatly on the oak
coffee table in front of the sofa. Then, she heard a sound and
looked up to see a woman walking down the hallway. She had white
curly hair, but that was the only things that gave her age away.
She had on a pink cashmere sweater and some white jeans. Her face
looked about 20 years younger and natural; not like she had any
work done. The way her lips were pursed reminded Clarke a bit of
Maggie Smith.

Clarke took a deep breath and looked down at
all the plans sitting before her and sat up straight in her seat,
ready to present her ideas to the biggest client she’d ever
had.

Chapter Five

Clarke left the meeting feeling unsure of whether or not the woman
enjoyed what she brought to the table. But it didn’t go terrible;
so that was progress. At least, that’s what others would say. But
Clarke was always her own harshest critic. It was past one in the
afternoon, and she was annoyed she had been gone so long. She would
just get back to the shop and then think about ways she could
improve or save the sale for sure.

As she got into her car, her phone buzzed.
Without looking, she flipped on the blue tooth in the car and
answered. She figured it was probably another client or Katie. But
the voice that came through the receiver was one she would have
rather not heard at that moment. “Well, well, look who finally
answered the phone. I was wondering when you would.”

“Don’t you have clients, Mother?” Clarke
snapped at her coldly. Her mother only ever called or came around
when it benefited her ego, but deep down Clarke still cared, which
is why she reacted so poorly every time they talked. She wanted her
mother to see her for once, though she knew it was never going to
happen.

“I’m on my lunch break, Clarke. Please,
don’t talk to me that way.”

“Fine, Mother, why did you call me on your
lunch break?” she asked more softly, trying to navigate the road
which was now busy with lunchtime traffic. People were randomly
slamming on their breaks to turn into every fast food joint they
passed, and it was getting on her nerves.

“Well, I wanted to tell you that I ran into
Mr. and Mrs. Coleman today.” Her mother never went anywhere she
could run into people, so that told Clarke they were probably
clients which didn’t surprise her one bit. They had always been the
type to be sue-happy. They also happened to be her ex-boyfriend’s
parents. And by ex-boyfriend, she meant the first guy in high
school she ever made out with. His name was Bobby, and they’d
gotten their braces stuck on each other freshman year. But for some
reason he’d always stuck in her mother’s mind. It was the only
thing Clarke had ever done that her mother approved of; probably
because his parents were rich and seemingly perfect.

“So?” Clarke asked impatiently.

“Well, it turns out Bobby is now Dr. Bobby
Coleman; a surgeon in fact. And it seems not only is he still
interested in you; he also has a job available for a medical
biller. He’s willing to train you and hire you. It’s like a double
whammy, right?”

Clarke scoffed, feeling ready to throw up at
the idea of working at the office of a plastic surgeon, which is
what she knew he was from Facebook. She also knew he could use a
little plastic surgery himself. “Mother, I own a flower shop. I do
not need a job,” Clarke explained, feeling annoyed. Her mother had
never had the confidence in the idea of her running her own
business much less a flower shop. She didn’t see any money or
security in it. Nor was it a practical job like hers.

“I thought you might be ready to give that
up now, but I can see you’re still in denial.”

Clarke felt her face getting hot as she
reached the street to turn on to get to the shop. She was on the
home stretch. It would give her a good excuse to hang up on her
mother. “My business is doing very well, Mother, even if you
haven’t noticed.. And why would I think of giving it up? If I did
then I’d be a quitter, Mother. You know, like Dad was?” Clarke said
harshly. How could that woman be so contradictory?

The conversation couldn’t have ended sooner
as Clarke hit the end button on her dashboard and looked up in
horror as she approached her flower shop. She pulled the car to a
screeching stop and got out, her hands on either side of her face
with her mouth open in a silent scream. Through the glass she could
see flames rising, destroying her flowers and her shop. She looked
around as she felt a tug on her sleeve as Katie pulled her back.
Another associate; Rita and a couple of customers were standing
next to her. They retreated to the front of a costume shop across
the street as Clarke heard the sirens that meant the fire
department was close by. The fire hadn’t spread over to other
businesses yet, but they were beginning to evacuate too, and she
felt like she was the center of attention in the worst possible
way.

As she watched her hard work and the last
way she had to earn her mother’s love and pride go up in flames,
she felt Katie rubbing her back to comfort her.

Luckily, it didn’t seem to take long for the
firemen to stop the fire, and the chief came out to speak to her
with soot still on his face. “Are you the owner?” the man asked
with a deep southern drawl. Clarke nodded and stepped forward.

“Can you tell what in the world caused this?
Did somebody do it on purpose?” Clarke asked, feeling dread pushing
down on her chest. But she couldn’t think of anyone with any reason
to hurt the business other than her mother. But her mother was a
lawyer and wouldn’t dare to get her hands dirty that way. Or would
she?

“It’s pretty clear it was an electrical
fire. You’ll have to get an inspector out here to see exactly what
went wrong so you can get it fixed, but it’s common in these
downtown businesses. Don’t beat yourself up about it ma’am.” He
tipped his fire hat as if it were a cowboy hat. “You should wait a
couple days to go in and survey the damage so that you don’t get
sick. You’ll need to find a good remediator as well. I wish you the
best of luck.”

The fire chief walked away, leaving Clarke
standing there, wondering what she was going to do next.

Chapter Six

Clarke walked around her shop with her arms
crossed, scooting her shoes through piles of ash. Most of the
damage was done to the Easter part of the shop going on into the
wedding stuff. All the flowers that were sitting out at the time
were too damaged to sell because of the smoke and water. The entire
right wall was burned down so that the drywall would need to be
replaced, and the coolers on that side of the room had shorted out.
Plus, whatever had caused the fire needed to be fixed. It was
extremely stressful, especially since she still had clients to see
and needed to keep them coming in. Not to mention she couldn’t
imagine the ridicule and lecturing she’d get if her mother found
out. This had to be fixed quickly.

A knocking came on the glass at the front,
and Clarke looked up to see a guy in a pair of jeans and a button
down shirt. She assumed it was the guy coming to give her an
estimate of how much it would be to fix her electrical problem, but
why in the world would he wear such nice clothes to look at a half
burned shop?

Clarke shook the thought from her head and
welcomed him in, holding out her hand to shake. “I’m Clarke
Bennett. You must be Trevor; am I correct?” she asked, looking him
up and down. In order to get this guy there she’d had to call in a
favor with the guy she had slept with a few nights before. He was
an electrical technician at some company, and the guy he sent was
his direct supervisor. Hopefully the guy didn’t know any gory
details about their relationship. It was awkward enough.

“Yes, that’s right. This looks like a real
doozy,” he commented, looking around. It made her think of her
favorite comedian, Bill Engval, and his skit about stupid people
needing a sign. This guy was one of them; stating the obvious. It
was a fire for goodness sake! Of course it was a “doozy.”

Clarke rolled her eyes before nodding and
shooting him a friendly smile. She led him over to the worst part
of the damage, and he began to look around at everything, chipping
away at pieces of wall and grabbing wires in his hands to inspect.
He looked more like a cheesy detective than a professional.

Finally, he stood up straight and came over
to her, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket along with a
pen. She watched nervously as he seemingly wrote an amount on it
and then signed below. She guessed it was his way of giving her an
estimate.