Flowersâprocessing new arrivals to your shop.â âAdvertise. Advertise. Advertiseâselling your service.ââ
Robbee whispered in my ear. âIâve heard the speaker is from some backwater town up north but has built her business into a helluva profit-maker. I could use some pointers.â
ââNasturtiumsâedible plants and flowers,ââ rambled Allison. ââSympathy Bouquetsâbuttering our bread with profit.ââ She sat down to a weak round of applause.
Tyrone took over again. âThe success of this conference takes a cooperative effort on everyoneâs part. Bernice is making sure our finances are in order. Effie is recording our decisions so future conference committees can refer to her notes.â
He picked up a paper from the table and waved it. âI have here the reservation list for those attending the Haversham Hall and Conservatory tour that will take place tomorrow afternoon. Of those in this room only Bretta has signed up.â
Robbee leaned close. âSuck up. Trying to find favor with the president?â
My answer was a well-placed elbow. He responded with a soft grunt.
ââsee all of your names on this roster,â said Tyrone. âYou are the stars of this conference. I want you to mix and mingle.
Let the attendees see you and talk to you. As for myself, my door is always open. I will listen to any suggestions on how to improve the quality of this weekend.â
This was it. Now Tyrone would say something about the board supporting me on keeping the categories secret. I was wrong, and gritted my teeth in frustration.
âOur industry is part of a Global Garden. Flowers are shipped from all over the world. In our daily lives, we use words such as heliconia, anthuriums, dendrobiums, bromeliads, and bougainvillea. These names sound more like pharmaceutical prescriptions than flowers.â
Tyrone paused for laughter. When there was none, he continued undaunted. âIn my opinion, holidays put us under more stress per situation than any other profession, other than the medical field. Our job is to provide a service with imagination and panache. We have to show our customers that while they can exist without flowers, their world is a better place because of them.â
âWhy is he telling us this stuff?â asked Robbee.
I shrugged.
âGlobal Garden refers to the ease with which we can obtain any flower at any given time. Tulips in August. Lilacs in September. Orchids. Gardenias. Somewhere in the world these flowers are availableâif weâre willing to pay the price. Hybridizers and growers are working relentlessly to develop something new and exciting to showcase our unique skills.â
I smothered a yawn. Monarchy ⦠malarkey. Effie was right about the definition of Tyroneâs name. His demeanor was that of a ruler. He had a captive audience and was milking the attention for every pint.
My mind wandered. My eyes strayed to Gellie. Since sheâd entered the room, Iâd fought the urge to stare. It was as if my
friend had died, and in her place was this strange womanâAngelica, who was now checking her image in the mirror of her compact. The old Gellie would have ordered a king-sized mug of coffee, laced it with four teaspoons of sugar, then dug into the rolls and butter while flashing me comical faces during Tyroneâs long-winded speech.
Had my personality undergone such a drastic change when Iâd shed one hundred pounds? My weight loss was enmeshed with Carlâs death. When he passed away, Iâd lost the taste for food. Those first twenty pounds had dropped off without any conscious effort on my part. The next eighty had been fought with a war of wills.
My desire for cheeseburgers and chocolate had come back with a vengeance, but by that time I was motivated to lose the weight. The new style of clothes I was able to wear kept me from overindulging, but
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