Free Popcorn Love by KL Hughes

Wendy
had been rambling on for nearly ten full minutes about flower
arrangements and centerpieces for the gala to follow the spring
show, and such things had always been Elena’s least favorite
aspects of planning meetings. It was, however, her job to give
final say on nearly all projects; thus, she had to endure.
    She sighed, laying her hand down flat against the
table and drawing the room’s attention away from Wendy, who had let
her terrible tendency of going off on tangents take over, and back
to her. “Let’s not turn this into an ordeal, Wendy,” she said. “I
said simple and elegant, and neither should be difficult to
accomplish. I want the hanging pieces for the outer edges of the
banquet hall—nothing bushy or heavily scented.”
    Wendy rapidly scribbled down notes as Elena spoke.
She nodded along and muttered, “Oh, of course,” and “Absolutely,”
after every other word.
    “Centerpieces equal size to the dinner plates and
lower than eye level,” Elena continued. “Tell Gregory I want clear
vases, not gold, no matter how popular they are right now,
and I want a splash of color in the arrangements—a splash not a spate.”
    “Only a splash?”
    Elena closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep
breath through her nose before turning to Elliot and arching a brow
at the man. “Yes, a splash, Elliot,” she said. “I presume you have
an objection?” He always did.
    The man had been a pain in Elena’s ass since her
first day on the job, and Elena didn’t have to guess why. He ranted
about it enough in break rooms and between cubicles that everyone
knew—he believed he deserved her job more than she did. Elena had
overheard all his complaints before—family privilege, wealth, sex
appeal. He had even gone as far as to suggest sexism, as if women
had professional advantage over men. It was ridiculous, and for him
to claim any sort of privilege won Elena the position, given that
he was a white male and she was a Latina woman, made her laugh. She
had earned her job.
    “Well,” Elliot said, adjusting his square gold-rimmed
glasses on his nose, “bright colors are appropriate for spring,
wouldn’t you say? Given the line-up for the show, I would say even more -so.” He glanced around the table pointedly and then
smirked as he turned back to Elena. “I’m sure I speak for everyone
when I say I’m concerned that just a ‘splash’ of color might not be
enough to match the season.”
    She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She knew
Elliot didn’t care about the damned floral arrangements. He simply
liked to voice dissent any time Elena made a decision. He seemed to
gain an immeasurable amount of glee from challenging her, and Elena
found it not only annoying but also pathetic.
    Rather than throw her phone at his head like she
wanted, Elena simply stared him down in a tense silence. When he
began to visibly squirm, she let out a long sigh and said, “We are
about fashion, Elliot, not flowers.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “The arrangements should complement the season, not
match it,” she said. “Or are you suggesting that we fill a room of
designers in designer clothing with centerpieces that draw
attention away from them?”
    “Well…”
    Elena turned to the rest of the table and cleared her
throat. “Would Elliot be correct in speaking for you all then?” she
asked. “Do you share his concern ?”
    Every other employee at the table quickly jumped to
reassure that they didn’t have any issues with a splash of color.
Peter, who was probably her sweetest employee but also her most
timid, even looked like he was on the verge of crying. The more
people made to reassure her, the more uncomfortable Elliot became,
and Elena reveled in him getting a taste of his own medicine.
    She turned back to him and smirked. “Reassured,
dear?” she asked, her amusement evident in her voice.
    With pursed lips, Elliot avoided her eyes, and Elena
smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Now, if there are no other