swooping in.”
Theodosia was starting to get a little worried herself. The patio at the Heritage Society wasn’t all that spacious. And they had to set up their tea table, which she still wasn’t certain was going to be one table or two tables put together. And Parker Scully had to set up his table for the Black Orchid cocktails nearby. And, of course, there were Drayton’s ice angels to contend with. Plus there were circular glass tables for guests to sit at. “It’s going to be chaos,” ventured Theodosia.
“What isn’t chaos these days.” Drayton sighed.
When the front door flew open ten minutes later, Theodosia knew things were not only going to be difficult, they were probably going to get contentious, too.
“What are you doing here?” an unhappy Drayton asked their new arrival.
Bill Glass ran a hand over his dark, slicked-back hair and glanced around the tea shop. “Jeez,” were his first words. “This place looks like a hurricane just hit.”
“We’re dreadfully busy,” snapped Drayton. “Now what is it you require?”
Glass aimed one of his Nikons at the table where tea sandwiches were being stacked and packed. “Just a few quick photos. You know, document the whole event.”
“I was under the impression you were retained to photograph the actual orchid show,” said Theodosia. “The events at the Heritage Society.”
“Nothing like getting a few candid shots,” said Glass as he slid over toward the table where cellophane- wrapped sandwiches were being packed in wicker baskets.
“Stop right there,” ordered Drayton. “Do not help yourself to one morsel of food. That’s an order.”
“C’mon,” wheedled Glass. “You’ve got enough food here to feed an army.”
Theodosia hustled over to Bill Glass. “You can help yourself to tea and sandwiches
Glass raised his camera and clicked off a quick sequence of shots in her face, causing Theodosia to blink.
“You’re no fun, tea lady,” he told her. “Why such a party pooper?”
“Is that who I think it is?” called Haley’s strident voice. She came barreling out from behind the velvet curtains and rushed right up to Bill Glass. “Stop it,” she told him, smacking his outstretched hand like she was reprimanding a willful schoolchild.
“Yow!” yelped Glass, pulling back his hand and laughing at the same time. “Aren’t you a little spitfire.”
Hands on hips now, Haley peered at Bill Glass. “Get lost, Glass,” she told him. “It’s bad enough you were hired to photograph Orchid Lights. We don’t need you poking around here, too.”
“Behind-the-scene shots,” he told her, though his explanation sounded lame.
“Go bug somebody else,” Haley told him. “Go annoy the Orchid Society. Or the staff at the Heritage Society.” She fluttered her fingers, then turned her back on him to indicate the issue was closed.
It hadn’t been that long ago that Bill Glass had tried to entice Haley with big plans to publish her recipes. But the publishing contract he’d delivered to her had been hope-lessly in his favor and Theodosia’s admonition to revise it had apparently fallen on deaf ears. So at the moment, Bill Glass was persona non gratis with Haley.
Charlie suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Drayton,” she said. “Can you step outside with me for a minute?”
“Who’s that?” asked Glass, raising his camera.
“Leave her alone,” said Theodosia, shooing him away like he was an annoying, persistent hornet.
“What?” Drayton asked Charlie. “You mean in back?” Between Charlie’s beckoning to him and Bill Glass stalking the tea room, Drayton seemed like he was caught off balance.
“Outside,” repeated Charlie. “Just for a minute.”
“Whatever for?” asked Drayton.
Charlie’s shoulders sagged. “Drayton.” She sighed. “Indulge me, will you?”
Bill Glass turned toward Theodosia as Drayton left the room. “You people are just as crazy as ever,” he chided.
“Thanks. Thanks a lot,” she told him.
Bill Glass followed her over to the counter. “I’m really just killing time until the event starts,” he told her.
“No kidding,” said Theodosia, busying herself. She knew she’d need sugar bowls, silver tongs, stir sticks, and a couple of tea strainers for tonight. And what else? There had to be a million other things.
“I’m not a bad guy,” Glass told her.
“That remains to be seen.” Theodosia leaned down, grabbed a six-pack of votive light candles. She figured they’d look perfect flickering on the tables once it got dark. Or should she bring the candelabra? Yes, that was even better.
“What do you hear about the fire at the Featherbed House?” Glass asked her.
Theodosia straightened up and stared at Glass. “Just that it’s a tragedy for Angie as well as the historic district.” She gazed at him suspiciously. “Why? You fishing around for a front-page story for next week’s
Glass shrugged. “Maybe. I already ran a short piece on the fire yesterday. But if you’ve got any new insight I’m all ears.”
“Nothing besides the fact that poor Angie lost her husband and her livelihood.” No way was she going to tell Bill Glass about Fayne Hamilton. He could read about that in tomorrow’s
“Yeah,” said Glass, fiddling with his camera. “Too bad about all that.”
Theodosia grabbed a blue-and-white teapot and poured out a cup of black tea heavily scented with jasmine. She shoved it across the counter toward Glass, hoping a few sips might settle him down. “Compliments of the house,” she told him.
Bill Glass eyed the tea suspiciously, then picked up the cup and took a judicious sip. Surprisingly, it seemed to meet with his approval. “Good,” he told her. “Tasty.”
“I thought you might like it.”
Glass leaned forward, getting ready to fix Theodosia with one of his trademark aw-shucks smiles, when his head suddenly swiveled right and he looked past her.
“What the . . . ?” said Glass, fumbling for his camera.
Curious, Theodosia also followed his gaze. And saw a grinning Charlie standing alongside a beaming Drayton. A beaming Dayton who was balancing a gigantic bell jar in his arms.
Then Theodosia realized what had taken place.
Drayton and Charlie had repotted the monkey-face orchid. The tall stalk with the white helmet-shaped flowers suddenly looked very dramatic and spooky in its new environment. Nestled at the base of the orchid were giant balls of moss that lent an overall effect of an orchid still growing in a natural, pristine forest.
Theodosia chuckled as Bill Glass clicked away. She figured Glass might just have found his dramatic cover shot for the next issue of
24
“This is a disaster,” muttered Haley as she elbowed her way through the crowd, trying to keep her truffle trays level.
Theodosia, who’d already staked out their meager position on the Heritage Society’s patio, had to agree. “Just ferry everything to the table first,” she advised. “Then we’ll figure out the logistics of setting up.”
“The table?” asked Drayton, in a thunderous tone. “We’re talking singular?”
“Afraid so,” said Theodosia, pushing a puff of auburn hair back over her shoulder. Her hair looked lovely, her makeup was soft and glowing, her outfit was very boho chic. But the evening was starting off on a precarious note. “The Orchid Society set up four more tables than planned,” she told Drayton, “so we’ve all got to do a little scrunching.”
