familiar with the upscale food Eleanor wanted for the formal dinner following the ceremony.
“And the photographer?” Poppy asked.
“Check,” Shelly said. “A friend from New York who used to be a wedding photographer is working in Hollywood now. She agreed to shoot the wedding as long as I didn’t tell anyone she was still doing weddings. It’s all about appearances. She photographed a lot of my floral creations for magazines.”
“This is all thanks to Eleanor’s generous budget,” Ivy said. “Speaking of finances, I have some good news. I spoke with Eleanor this morning, and she recognizes how much work we’ve been putting into the wedding. I told her this amount of work wasn’t part of the original agreement. So she agreed to what I asked—and I went high. Although I think we’ll earn every penny.”
“That’s great,” Shelly said. “I knew you could do it. And if you didn’t, I would have. In New York, I learned that you couldn’t be shy about what you’re worth.”
Ivy shook her head. “I don’t know why asking for what we deserve should be such a scary proposition.”
“You just aren’t used to doing it,” Shelly said. “But when you work for yourself, you have to. It gets easier. And depositing the check always feels good.”
“It sure does,” Ivy said.
“As to flowers, what do you think of this arrangement?” Shelly asked, bringing up photos on her laptop. “This is a job I did for a spring wedding in New York.”
“You sure have an eye for color,” Ivy replied, peering through her reading glasses. Each design was so artistic. “Is this what Rachel wants?”
Shelly pulled up another image. “Rachel doesn’t know what she wants, so she left it up to me. So I’m creating exactly what I would want if I had the budget. I’ll live vicariously through her. And I guarantee that Rachel and Eleanor will love it.”
Ivy listened with mixed feelings. Neither of them mentioned that they might have been planning their weddings right now. Shelly was nervous about Mitch, and Ivy didn’t want to think about her wedding until after Shelly’s. So they said little, but Ivy could tell that Shelly was thinking about it. Her thoughts drifted to the talk she’d had with Bennett at the vineyard. They’d had a beautiful day there, marred only by their conversation about Mitch and Shelly.
“Beach meets traditional—that’s the theme,” Shelly said, her gaze drawn toward the ocean. “Roses and lilies and tuberose, of course, along with peonies, ranunculus, and anemones. Voluptuous hydrangeas spilling from ginger jars with trailing vines of jasmine and ivy,” she added, sketching the scene in her mind’s eye with her hands. “Weathered beach accents like driftwood, beach glass, and seashells. I’m also having an arch built, and I plan to drape blankets of flowers over that and along the length of the tables in place of centerpieces. The entire ballroom will be a floral fantasy.”
Poppy scribbled a note. “What color palette are you using, Shelly?”
Shelly spread her hands toward the beach. “With the ocean as a backdrop, instead of the more common white or marine-blue theme, I’m going for contrast against the blue water and sandy beach with vivid coral, pink, and mauve, finishing with dusky red. I’ll use an ombré technique of fading colors from light to dark that will be spectacular. Rachel’s bouquet will be gorgeous.”
“And it will blend with the bridesmaid dresses,” Ivy said, recalling the photos Eleanor had shared with her.
“I’ll coordinate the other items we’ll need,” Poppy said.
Fortunately, Amelia Erickson had entertained on a grand scale, and they’d found crates of dishes and silver on the lower level, besides what they had found in the butler’s pantry.
“I’m going to the wholesale flower market with Imani,” Shelly said. “I need a lot more than she can provide through her shop, although she is ordering a lot for me. Since she knows all the best places for the trimmings and flowers, she offered to introduce me to her suppliers for special items I need. I’m enlisting her help, and we’ll have a lot of fun.”
“Is there anything else you need for decorations?” Ivy asked
Shelly twirled her pencil in thought. “I would like some unusual pieces. Hey, remember the old baskets and beach cruisers we found on the lower level? I could do something with those. I can just see an old bike by the front door, flowers spilling out of its wicker basket on the front.”
“Sounds pretty,” Ivy said. “That would make such a charming painting.”
“I’ll create it; you paint