Flower Girl Ch. 03

Tracy pushed a broom around an already clean floor, trying to stay busy instead of obsessing on her email inbox. She had not heard from William after going out to for drinks and wondered if she had misread the signs? She actually believed he was attracted to her, but maybe he just likes to date? Maybe he dates several women at a time? It was his prerogative, she reminded herself. She would not waste her time thinking about someone who was indifferent towards her, although he did not seem that way last night? Then she remembered what that woman in the writing group had said, "When he talks to you, it feels like you are the only person in the room."

"The only person on Earth," another had added.

Tracy frowned at the memory and tried to occupy herself with work. It was still late summer, but wedding season would slow down and the holidays were busy in a different way. There were centerpieces and wreaths, a few Holiday weddings, and even her online-Etsy business selling handmade jewelry. Her tiny flowers suspended in resin had been a good source of additional income, but she wasn't sure she would even have time for that this year.

Of course she could teach the girls who worked the shop on the weekends, Linda and Rachel, how to make the jewelry. They were both college students and would appreciate a way to get more hours over the break. Yes, Rachel would especially enjoy making jewelry. There were also her regular customers; a few boutique hotels that kept fresh flowers in their lobbies, and of course the Catholic Church up the street, thanks to her grandmother's connections, Holy Trinity provided a steady flow of business throughout the year.

She returned to her desk and still no email from William, but a slew of internet orders to focus on. One was from a man named 'Mr. Moore' and he wanted to order an arrangement, no budget, but said the arrangement should not be audacious. He gave Tracy complete artistic freedom as well as his credit card number. The message said his assistant would pick up the flowers the following day, and please make sure the arrangement could be moved by taxi. Obviously another of Mrs. Hillson's dinner guests, and while she absolutely loved being given free rein on her creativity, Tracy felt she needed more information.

She emailed a reply, "I would be more than happy to create something beautiful for you. Could you offer guidance by giving me five adjectives describing the recipient?" Tracy had learned from Pierre never to assume a man was buying flowers for a woman.

There were two identical orders for a dozen red roses, the most common request, but she still tried to make them unique by including eucalyptus and an ivory bow. She checked her email again, still nothing from William. Ah, but Mr. R. Moore has replied with five adjectives. "Aesthetic, Prolific, Scintillating, Adroit, Stunning."

Wow, Tracy though. Mr. Moore has sent me to the dictionary with some impressive adjectives. Tracy knew four of the words, just wanted to confirm their meaning. "Adroit," was a new one, which Tracy learned meant clever or skillful in using the hands or mind. This one is challenging, in such a good way, she thought to herself. Just the distraction she needed.

She texted Antonio special instructions, "Please search high and low for dahlias, black satin and tartan." She knew tartan dahlias were difficult to find and she could use something else if needed, but this was her first choice. Then Tracy looked over her inventory and texted Antonio again. "Gardenias too."

Just then her grandmother walked into the store. "Hello Nana!"

"Oh Tracy, must you?" Beverly grimaced, holding her hands over her ears in complaint over the alternative music Tracy was playing from the air. "What about the Vivaldi CDs I bought you? You're going to scare away your customers."

Tracy turned the music down and said, "Aw Nana, I do enjoy classical music, but I'm here by myself most of the day. Besides, most of my work is from the internet, not walk-ins. Hey, check out this interesting order that came through this morning."

Beverly listened as Tracy told her about the unusual request, wide-eyed and interested. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Tracy began gingerly, but quickly becoming animated and excited, "the flowers are for someone very artistic, so I am going to create my piece de resistance!" She threw her hands up in the air and Beverly smiled, her eyes widening with delight when Tracy showed her the sketch she had started.

"This is my chance to make something that has been in my head for a long time. No budget! Oh, I'm not going to stick it to him, don't worry, but I'm going to use this opportunity to make something extraordinary and post it on my website."

Beverly looked at the sketch and brought a hand to her heart, "So lovely, Tracy. I cannot wait to see the actual piece."

"I know Nana, I have been inspired by the adjectives!"

Beverly knew Tracy's habit of asking about the recipient and read the scratch paper Tracy handed her. "Ooooh, this is an exciting list. I have not heard 'adroit' in some time."

"I know, right? The recipient must be amazing. You know Nana, the arrangement could be for a man."

"Of course dear, a man buying another man flowers is always something to consider in our business."

"Well I am building a flower sculpture that would make any gay man melt. A skyscraper of flowers."

"A skyscraper?"

"Oh, a miniature, Nana. It has to fit in a taxi cab. Maybe I should have said sky-scraper-inspired! But it will be a modern, narrow, tall arrangement. It will be amazing!"

"You are inspired. I think I will leave you to your work." Beverly gave Tracy a hug and walked out to the door and left the store with a wave.

* * * * *

Andy lifted the television out of his trunk and carried it across the parking lot to the pawn shop. He had a computer and really didn't need a television, he told himself. And he could get it back as soon as he got a paycheck. He had sent out eighteen resumes that day, seven short of the quota he had set for himself. He was running out of places to send them. He would start back to the beginning of the list and also call each company to make sure they received them.

And then there was the agency, the one with the ridiculous commercial about temporary accounting jobs. He had a test with them in the morning, but the receptionist warned they were getting a lot of applicants.

The pawn shop offered one hundred and fifty for his flat screen television. Andy paid six hundred just a few months prior, but he was in no position to argue. "Got too many TV's anyway," the man said, reminding him he was not the only guy to find himself out of work lately. Andy rubbed his head and accepted the money. Might as well put it all in an envelope labelled "Vera," but he needed gas too.

William's reading was interrupted by Melissa asking "Is that the new up and coming author?"

"Hmmm, yes," William answered, trying to keep it short.

"Did you ask if I could read it?"

"Oh no, sorry Melissa. It completely slipped my mind." William did not consider this a lie. He had never contemplated asking Tracy if Melissa could read her writing. He reduced his screen and went to the Guggenheim website. He wanted to look at both the Guggenheim and Metropolitan sites and find an exhibit he could invite Tracy to. Melissa was still hovering about.

There was not anything new at the Guggenheim that William found enticing, but the Met had several choices, including an exhibit by Bartholomeus Spranger, entitled "Splendor and Eroticism in Imperial Prague." William smiled to himself thinking he could suggest the new Kadinsky exhibit, then steer her into the Spranger exhibit, hoping to inspire a conversation about erotic art.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," William answered. He did not wish to be rude, but this young woman was becoming an annoyance. He was intentionally short, hoping not to encourage her, but she was relentless. He knew how to get rid of her. He looked up a book on Bartholomeaus Spranger and gave her the call number and asked her to retrieve the book.

He wanted to send Tracy an email asking if she would like to visit the museum with him this weekend, but decided to wait and do it from home. Melissa took too long to retrieve the book, but finally returned with a slight flush and a wicked grin. Fuck me, William thought to himself. I've inadvertently sent a suggestive message. I should have asked Melissa to retrieve a book on chastity. He turned back to his reading.

Vera was sprawled out on the couch with her feet in Andy's lap. They were in one of their post coitus conversations that Andy cherished and Vera was telling him about what her brother was like before the accident, how cocky he had been. "Do you think he would have cared for you this way Vera? If the tables were turned?"

"Huh," Vera answered, twirling her own hair, "I've never thought about that." Then after a pause she laughed and said, "Probably not!"

Andy was amused that this did not anger her. He loved her easy laugh, the way she did not carry a grudge, even about her customers. She was tolerant of their kinks, but also had a bottom line and would not put up with any bullshit. Andy knew she did not make them feel like perverts or deviants, oh - except the few that paid extra for the humiliation. That was a kink that even Vera admitted she could not get her head around, but she could act.

"How do you keep your feet so soft?" Andy asked, while rubbing her arches with his thumbs.

"Cum."

"Fuck, Vera!" Andy tossed her feet off his lap, while Vera laughed hysterically.

"Oh, come on Andy, I washed them!"

Andy let her rest her feet back on his lap and asked, "So guys really want to cum on your feet? I mean, you have nice feet and all, but that wouldn't be my first choice."

"Or your second, or third," Vera laughed, "Oh, but I really appreciate the foot fetish guys. I wish there were more of them! Do you know if I moved to England, I could probably live off of just my feet!"

"Don't move to England!" Andy blurted out in a panicked voice, and then caught himself and calmly said, "I mean that wouldn't be good for your brother, would it?"

"Oh, no. It would be a logistical nightmare, I can't even imagine," Vera had started stroking Andy with her foot. "Besides, I'm starting to think you like my feet," she teased, referring to his tumescent cock.

"That's a spinal cord reaction," Andy answered, trying to hold down a smile. She could rub him with any body part she wanted; just the fact that it was Vera doing it would turn him on.

"I got a new job," Andy told her, partly because he wanted to and partly because it was a game they played. Vera would turn it up a notch if he ignored her. "Doing payroll. Seems like a pretty good company," Andy lied by omission. The truth was, it was only a part time job and would interfere with his unemployment benefits, but he hoped they would like him and it would turn into something more, maybe something full-time.

"Is that so?" Vera feigned interest, and was now up on her hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him with that look in her eyes.

"Yep, start Monday," he ignored her kissing his neck and down his chest, "It's a twenty-five minute drive if there's no traffic," as she reached his very alert penis, "casual Fridays, yeah, I think I'm going to like it."

"Oh, you're gonna like it," Vera gave a wicked smile as her hand clamped around him, before lowering her mouth.

* * * * *

William planned to email Tracy, but after a session at the batting cages followed by a relaxing hot shower, he picked up her business card and decided to call her. Her card listed a phone number and a cell phone number, so he took a chance and called her cell. To his surprise, she answered.

"Hello Tracy, this is William. I hope you don't mind my calling."

"Oh, hello! No, I'm glad to hear from you, William."

William did not expect such a warm response and was very pleased to hear her say so.

"Well you have been on my mind. I really enjoyed talking with you the other day and wonder if I might have the honor of spending some time in your company again."

Tracy laughed, a sound that William found extremely endearing, and said, "My goodness William, you are so formal. Are you asking me on a proper date?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then you probably have something in mind, too."

"Yes I do. That is if you have not been to the Metropolitan recently?"

"No, honestly I think it has been over two years. I would love to go to the Met with you."

"Ah, wonderful. There are a few new exhibits I am interested in. Are you free on Saturday?"

"Yes, I am in fact. I just want to check on my employees in the morning, but then I'm free. Should I meet you there?"

"Oh no. I would much prefer picking you up. Would you mind?"

"Not at all, that would be great." She answered.

"Would ten o'clock be too early?"

"No, I like to beat the crowd as much as possible."

William laughed. He felt the same way, but did not say so. He wanted to ask her a million questions, but he also wanted to wait, and so he said, "Perfect. I will see you at ten o'clock."

"Hey William, do you mind if we go by my shop first? It is right up the street from my apartment and I want to just check on my girls...and I'd kind of like you to see my shop."

"I would be honored," he said, sincerely. "Good night Tracy."

"Good night William." He hung up the phone and smiled. He expected Tracy to say yes, and the truth was, while he was very interested in seeing her shop, he was even more interested in seeing the inside of her apartment. It would answer many questions he needed to know before proceeding.

* * * * *

Tracy hung up the phone and immediately called Beth. She got Beth's recording, but shouted into the phone, "He asked me out! I am going out with William." And she jumped on her bed and did a happy dance, before turning in for the night.

She awoke to a text from Antonio with photo of a flower, the rare Fallen Angel Dahlia.

Tracy sat up and texted, "How many?"

"Two-dozen" Antonio texted back, and Tracy sent him an obnoxious row of emoticons including thumbs up, happy faces, and girls dancing.

She looked at the photo again, admiring the radial symmetry of the dahlia that contrasted with sporadic splashes of pink. She spoke to her photo on her phone; "You know, I am not supposed to have favorites, but I really do adore you." And she kissed her phone before rushing off to her Pilates class.

Once she arrived at Petals, Tracy saw the flowers Antonio had purchased and could hardly contain her excitement. She had a few orders to fill first, including a good sized job for the church, but she worked fast so that she could get to her skyscraper arrangement. The email said Mr. Moore's assistant would be picking it up between five and six.

Beverly came by the shop and asked if there was anything she could do to help, but Tracy was faster on her own and expected Antonio back later, so she declined. "William asked me out," she told her, smiling as she stuck yellow roses into a foam base. "He is taking me to the Met on Saturday."

"Oh, lovely! A proper date!" Beverly replied, clapping her hands together in glee.

"And that is not all, Nana. He gave advanced notice, let his intentions be known that it was a date, not just 'hanging out', and he is picking me up."

"Oh Tracy, this is marvelous. Of course you must test the soil before you buy the farm!"

"What? You want me to have sex with him Nana?" Tracy teased.

Beverly waved her hand in disregard, "Oh no, I mean, that is up to you dear. It's an old expression your great grandmother used to say. It means don't convince yourself something is worth buying unless you find out what is going on under the surface."

Tracy laughed and said, "Okay, I get it, Nana. I'll test his soil, alright," she winked. "Get to know him. He could be a creep, for all I know. But so far he is very ...unique and interesting, and...did I tell you how handsome he is?"

"Oh, I know, I've seen him."

"You what?" Tracy's jaw dropped open and she stopped moving.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood of the library, and I decided to just pop in and make his acquaintance."

"You what! Oh my god Nana! Did you tell him who you are?"

"No, I did not. I intended to, but we just started talking about books and it never came up, then someone interrupted him, and I said good bye."

"Oh Nana! When he meets you he'll think I sent you! He'll think you are a spy! Oh, but you are a spy Nana, and a very clever spy. So what did you think of him?"

"He is from another era, Tracy. His manners are impeccable."

Tracy looked at her grandmother with concern. She hated to admit it, but she was a good judge of character. "Did you get the feeling he is a phony, Nana?"

"No," Beverly looked away, "He was utterly charming. We talked about literature and he was such a delight! One cannot fake such passion."

Tracy waited for her to go on, but Beverly smiled with closed lips.

"But?"

"But nothing. Only time will reveal the chinks in his armor, everyone has them, Tracy." Beverly paused before adding, "But it does seem that William has an element of sadness beneath his exuberance."

Tracy thought for a few second, then turned silly, "Did he hit on you, Nana?"

Beverly laughed and said, "Well, he does give his entire focus, making a woman feel like she is the only one in the room, doesn't he?"

"Indeed," Tracy said, in her best William voice.

* * * * *

Hours later Tracy stood back and looked at her arrangement. It exceeded her expectations. It had been difficult, she changed her mind on a few things during the process, but the end result was a flower arrangement fitted in a six by six square base, had four corners constructed of stiffeners draped in vine, that met at the top and were tied together and held by three gardenias. There were layers, emulating floor, showcasing Tracy's skill for mixing unexpected flowers in varying shades of magenta to dusty rose, and lots of bright white. She created empty space within the structure, layers that one could intentionally see through, so the whole thing did not appear dense and square. When she stood back and looked at it, her heart ached, and she felt grateful to have the best job imaginable.

Tracy took several photos, then texted one to Beth, Nana, and Pierre. Within seconds, her phone rang, and it was Pierre, crying on the other end of the phone, "Oh Tracy! It is lovely, it is beyond lovely, it is on the outermost region of loveliness, where lovely meets with divine!"

Tracy smiled and wiped a tear from her own cheek, as she expressed with alarm, "Oh my god, Pierre, I am crying too! What did you do to me? I've never cried over flowers before!"

"Oh Tracy, you are experiencing pure joy, the sublime joy of not only observing beauty, but in having a hand in creating something truly extraordinary. This is the joy a mother feels when she sees her baby for the first time."

"Wow," Tracy said, "I just birthed a floral skyscraper? I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

Pierre squealed with laughter, "Oh Tracy, I do miss you! Tell me everything! What was the inspiration for this exquisite arrangement?"

So Tracy told him about the online customer, what he asked for, the five adjectives, and that someone would come pick it up soon.

And so he did. A man in his mid-thirties, wearing a business suit showed up right on time saying he was there to pick up the flowers for Mr. Moore. He stared at Tracy a bit longer than what would be considered polite, but Tracy was used to it. She attributed it more to her unusual dress than her beauty, since today she was dressed as colorfully as her flower shop.