Free The Brontë Plot by Katherine Reay

artfully cloistered between and around paler, softer buds, dense and precise.
    â€œThere are over a hundred flowers in here and the vase is stunning. This must’ve cost a fortune.”
    â€œIt’s heavy enough.”
    â€œThank goodness I didn’t handle the order. I wouldn’t have imagined anything like this.”
    Sid dropped into his desk chair and rolled back a few feet to see the flowers from a distance. “What would you have chosen?”
    â€œI guess looser, wilder ones in softer tones. Like a garden all mixed together with greens and grasses, maybe in a silver vase.”
    â€œIt sounds beautiful and just like you. That’s the secret of design, you know, to listen and to look. You have to find what excites a person, brings her alive, and lets her feel safe and yet . . . exotic. It’s easy to build a showpiece. Harder to create a home.” He rolled himself toward her, dangling the bag from his fingers. “And here you go for your own home, the remnants from the Saltner job. There are some gorgeous ones in there. You’ll need to show me your project soon.”
    â€œI will.” Lucy smiled warmly. She knew Sid would appreciate her panels and understand them. “When it’s finished, you’ll be the first.”
    Sid studied her. “I’ve got another surprise for you too.”
    Lucy looked down at herself, following his line of sight. She was wearing black heels, buffed and polished. Black tights. Pale lavender velvet skirt, circa 1960s, but perfectly tailored and ending precisely midknee. Thin, black cashmere sweater, sleek and tucked in. The straightened blunt ends of her ever-present low ponytail lying over her shoulder. “What?”
    â€œIt’s like the flowers. You’ve found what suits you. Four years ago, you interviewed in jeans, gray wool Converse, and a sweatshirt. Now I find a poised woman before me, dressed with the quality and understated elegance of an antique, and I know she’s ready for this surprise. Ready for her first consulting trip.”
    â€œA trip?”
    â€œHelen Carmichael called my cell about half an hour ago. She’s planning a shopping excursion to London and needs a consultant.” Sid squeezed her hand. “You’re up.”
    â€œLondon? She was here this morning; I’m meeting her at her apartment tomorrow. She said nothing about a trip.”
    â€œShe mentioned that. She wanted to clear it with me, as your boss, first.”
    â€œI don’t know, Sid.” Lucy took a step back and felt her hand reach up and circle her neck. “She’s James’s grandmother.”
    â€œWhat?” Sid’s eyebrows shot up toward his forehead. “How could you not tell me this? Really, Lucy, you’ve been holding out on me.”
    â€œI did tell you; you’ve forgotten.”
    â€œGood thing, too, because now I get to enjoy it all over again.” Sid rubbed his hands together. “This is getting interesting. Better than one of your novels, I think.”
    â€œCall her and tell her you can’t spare me.”
    â€œWhy? You and James are adorable.”
    â€œAnd he’s not speaking to me. We broke up.” Sid opened his mouth, but Lucy cut him off. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”
    Sid watched her for a moment before replying. “What happened?”
    Lucy gripped her shoulders tight. “Will you call her?”
    Sid rolled away again and crossed his arms over his chest as well. Lucy knew he was considering the situation, considering her.
    â€œSid?”
    â€œI wondered what was different. You’ve been so happy and open. So very creative lately. Haven’t you felt it?” He circled a finger as if drawing on her face. He rolled a few feet closer. “Is it more than James?”
    â€œWhy would you ask that?”
    Sid flicked his head like he was trying to catch a fleeting thought or a burst of light. “I