“Why did you paint all the daisies purple?” Gracie poked one finger into the giant red, yellow and purple centerpieces that were supposed to decorate the tables at her wedding. “I hate purple and these are awful.”
“I made these centerpieces exactly how you ordered them.” Mary Greer, the florist, was looking more than a little green in the gills as they stood in the back room of her one-woman shop and surveyed 50 of the ugliest centerpieces Gracie had ever seen in her life.
“No, I didn't.” Gracie silently cursed her mystery impostor. “Like I already explained to you, someone is contacting the vendors for my wedding and pretending to be me. I never changed my order. You were emailing with a fraud.”
“I don't believe you.” Mary pointed at the purple daises. “You said you were going for a bolder look and you emailed me a picture of what you wanted the new centerpieces to look like. You asked me to rush the order.”
“No, I didn't. I don't know who you talked to, but it wasn't me.” Gracie took a deep breath and willed herself not to scream. “I'm sorry, but my wedding will not be full of purple daises and red orchids. You're going to have to re-do absolutely everything. I can't use any of these arrangements.”
“I still have the email. I even printed it so I could look at the picture for reference when I was revising the centerpieces. I don't know what kind of a trick you girls are trying to pull but I don't appreciate it.” Mary walked over to an old computer that occupied a tiny desk in the back of the room. She picked up a piece of paper, glanced at it once and then passed it to Trish.
Trish drummed her fingers against her thigh as she scanned the email with a glance. It was the same one they had seen last night.
Gracie knew she should probably shut up, but she was so horrified by the hideous centerpieces that she couldn't stop herself from arguing. “I don't understand why would you make crazy changes to such an expensive order without speaking to me personally?”
“I did speak to you,” said Mary. “You're just a spoiled brat who changed her mind at the last minute and doesn't want to take responsibility now that she doesn't like the results she got.”
“That's not true,” Gracie said.
Normally the very embodiment of serenity, Trish's cheeks were flushed as she surveyed the red and purple catastrophe that currently surrounded them. “I'm sorry, but Gracie is right. These flowers simply won't work. Even if we were the ones who changed the order, you spray painted the daises. They look terrible. The paint is peeling off in strips. They look like melting grape lollipops. Plus, the orchids are all wilting. None of these arrangements look the least bit fresh.”
“Why I never.” Mary set her jaw in a tight scowl. “I've been working on your centerpieces for two weeks solid. I've had to work 16 hour days in order to get your order completed while still handling the rest of my business. I wouldn't have gone to all this trouble for you if you were marrying anyone other than Loretta Walker's son. My arthritis is killing me. All the joints in my hands are just aching from all the time I've spent trying to complete the changes to your order on time. Now you're saying you don't want your flowers?”
“These aren't my flowers,” Gracie said. “I need you to give me the original centerpieces and bouquets that I ordered.”
“No, I'm not re-doing your flowers for a third time,” Mary said. “Besides, it would take me weeks to re-order all the supplies I need. Your wedding is tomorrow. You're going to have to use what I have here.” She pointed at the purple disasters.
“I'm not using those,” Gracie said. “Trish is right. Even if the colors weren't horrible, the flowers all look like they're dying. They don't look fresh.”
“Either you can take these centerpieces or you can leave them.” Mary crossed her arms and stood defiantly in the doorway. “I'm not doing any more work for you. I'm also not going to refund the money you put towards the other decorations and your bouquets.”
“You won't give me my money back?” Gracie was so furious that she was beginning to shake.
“I'm putting your money towards the balance you owe me. If you look at my reply to that email your friend is holding, you'll see that you agreed to pay me an additional $5,000 for the rush order to change the centerpieces. Now that you're denying you asked for the change, I'm betting you have no intention of giving me my money. Your money will go towards the debt you owe me.”
“You can't do that. We prepaid you for the flowers. You can't add to the bill.”
“You agreed to the changes and I have it in writing,” Mary argued.
“Trish, can she do that?” Gracie's turquoise eyes were flashing with anger.
“She shouldn't be able to, but we don't have any recourse except taking her to court. You're getting married tomorrow. We can't exactly wait on a judge to rule in our favor. We have to find you new flowers.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Gracie asked. “We're never going to find another florist willing to create over a hundred centerpieces and decorations with a 24 hour deadline.”
“Do you want to pay Mary another five grand and use the painted purple ones?” Trish asked.
“Hell no.”
“Then we're going to have to find new flowers. Come on. We're wasting our time here.” Trish gestured for Gracie to follow her as she headed out the door.
“I'll get my money!” Marry called after them. “Even if I have to take you to court!”
“Looking forward to it,” Trish called back over her shoulder.