Free Evil In Carnations by Kate Collins Page B

purse trimmed in black. Before I could duck, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. Since she was also a head taller, my face got mashed against the front of her coat, which set me off on a sneezing fit.
    “ Ew. You’re sick,” She backed away as though I had cooties.
    I brushed fine strands away from my nose and mouth, then picked more out of my lip gloss. “I’m not sick. It’s your fur coat.”
    “It’s faux fur, Abby. How can you be allergic to faux?” Jillian tossed her mittens onto the worktable, scattering a pile of loose rose petals, then swept off her earmuffs and shook free her long, copper-colored hair, her pride and joy. She pulled out a tall wooden stool and perched on it. “So what’s this I hear about you attending a speed-dating event? Don’t tell me you and Marco are splitsville again.”
    “Splitsville? Have you been watching sitcoms from the sixties? Of course we’re not. I merely went with Nikki to a speed-dating event to help her screen guys. Who told you about it?”
    “I have my sources. So poor Nikki has lost her mojo, huh? Did you find anyone for her?”
    “Is that why you’re here, Jill? To get fodder for gossip?”
    “Abby, I’m hurt. Can’t I stop by to see how you are?”
    That would be a first. “What do you need, Jillian?”
    “A floral arrangement for a dinner party, but not just any floral arrangement. I want something spectacular. Something so awesome that mouths will drop open.”
    “And you need this awesome arrangement when?”
    “Tonight.”
    “Are you serious? I can’t pull an idea like that out of thin air. I’ll have to study my books and floral magazines, ask Lottie’s advice. . . .”
    “And I want to help you put it together.”
    “Forget it.”
    “Abby, I’m desperate! Claymore is bringing over his bosses and their wives, and those women are so clever and accomplished that there’s no way I can compete. But if I can say that I had a hand in creating a jaw-dropping floral arrangement, at least I have something to offer.”
    “You don’t have to compete, Jill. It’s not a race.”
    “But I do need to make a good impression. Claymore is up for a very big promotion. He’s counting on me to dazzle them.”
    “By saying you made a floral arrangement? That’s ridiculous. Besides, you have a lot to offer on your own.”
    “Like what?”
    I searched for something positive to say, trying to keep my face toward the sunshine, as Grace had suggested. “Well, you’re fashionable. I mean, who knows clothing better than you? And then there’s your business as a wardrobe consultant.”
    “All that makes me is a shopper, Abby. A shopper !” She dropped her head into her hands, her hair cascading forward like a waterfall, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs.
    Add drama queen to that list. “Jill. Here’s a thought. Why don’t you create a spectacular, jaw-dropping, gourmet meal for them?”
    She lifted her head to give me the evil eye. “That’s the caterer’s job.”
    Silly me. I forgot. Jillian knew how to make only one thing: Jell-O.
    She put her head down again, moaning in agony.
    Hearing groans, Lottie came through the curtain in a rush, saw Jillian’s bent head, then tried to back through the curtain before my cousin noticed her.
    “Lottie,” Jillian exclaimed, jumping up, “you’ll help me, won’t you?”
    “Well, I don’t know,” Lottie replied warily. “Depends what you need.”
    Jillian quickly filled Lottie in, while Lottie’s eyes darted between my cousin and me, as though trying to gauge my reaction. “I suppose we can do that,” she said at the end.
    “Oh, thank you!” Jillian gushed, and tried to wrap her arms around Lottie, but it was a stretch. “What time should I be here to work on the arrangement?”
    “Closing time,” I muttered.
    “No, seriously,” Jillian said, pulling on her gloves.
    “Five minutes before closing time.”
    “Be here at four thirty,” Lottie said.
    “Thank you so, so, so much!”