Elly in Love (The Elly Series) (20 page)

Elly looked down at her outfit, one that she had felt so pretty in, until now. “Um, yes, I guess. Is this not what I should be wearing? I have an apron over there….”

“Oh God, no. You’re fine.”

Elly hated it when people told her she was fine.
She had a sudden urge to yank Gemma’s short hair. Gemma looked frantically down at her clipboard, speaking fast. “Okay, so here is how this works. Our celebrity comes in the door. You react, we film your reaction. You maybe have five minutes of speaking time, and then we are done and on to the next vendor. There are a couple of lists of rules here. Do
not
hug the celebrity. Do not touch the celebrity. Do not mention wedding details or contractual agreements. Do not mention any recent gossip about her or any of her ex-boyfriends. Do not mention any of her films. Do not try and take a picture with her, do not ask her to call your relatives.” She looked Snarky Teenager up and down. “And you, do not stand next to her. Got it?”

Elly’s heart thrummed nervously in her chest as she gave a nod. Gemma leaned in, her face close to Elly’s shoulder. “And whatever you do,
do not
offer her alcohol, or any other drugs.”

Elly didn’t even know where she would get ahold of drugs
. An alley?

“Do not
mention
rehab or anything related to those things.
Please
.”

Elly stared back silently. She saw a slice of true panic in Gemma’s eyes.
Ah, perhaps she wasn’t a robot after all.
“Promise,” Elly mouthed silently.

Gemma stood up straight. “Are the cameras ready?” she shrieked in her British accent. There was a moment of silence and the cell phone on Gemma’s belt lit up. She looked down at it. “She’s here. I’ll ask again, are we ready?” The camera operators nodded.

Elly took a deep breath and took a step onto the blue X marked with tape on the floor.
Here we go
, she thought.
I wish Keith was here.
She couldn’t even think about their little argument last night. She couldn’t think about Dennis, or Keith, or the new store, or anything else. All she had to think about was … the door swung open, and in walked Lola Plumb.

Lola Plumb. Lola Plumb.
Lola FREAKING Plumb
. Elly kept repeating the name over and over in her mind as she stood frozen in place. Lola Plumb was standing in Posies. Lola Plumb, right in front of her. She was surprisingly short, and was just under Elly’s height, even wearing towering pink heels. A tight-fitting dress made of broad rainbow stripes and black ribbon accents clung to her almost emaciated form. Mounds of thick reddish-blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and across her forehead. Gigantic sunglasses sat perched on her upturned nose, and there was a stout white Chihuahua tucked snugly under her arm, where a purse would normally be. Lola Plumb, in all her infamous California beauty, was standing right in front of Elly
. Lola Plumb was not a B-list celebrity.
Everything she knew about Lola Plumb she had gathered from a number of her tabloid subscriptions and a steady diet of
E! News
. Once a famed child star, known for her stint as the golden girl on
Still Life,
a long-running sitcom about divorced parents, she had risen to fame in the indie film
Violet Saturday
. The film, which went on to win Best Picture at the Oscars, set Lola on what seemed to be ideal trajectory for A-list movie star status. That was, until she had met Chloe Britt, a reality star turned pop musician. A friendship that was at first endearing in the public eye soon turned dangerous—together, the girls circled through endless Hollywood soirees, crashing studio functions and promotional parties in their matching miniskirts and silver flasks. They loved the paparazzi almost as much as the paparazzi loved them. If you Googled “Lola Plumb,” the screen would quickly fill up with wardrobe malfunctions, pictures of the girls kissing random men (or each other), and drinking (and then throwing up) copious amounts of liquor. Lola and Chloe had also shoplifted two designer bags from a store in New York, which had declined to press charges against two of their most-valued customers. Chloe had crashed her car into a children’s clothing store, which landed her in prison, and then finally, rehab. She had emerged a different person: self-assured, beautiful, and put together. She was currently hosting a popular fashion show on Bravo, and had publically dismissed Lola as being a “bad influence upon her life.” Lola hadn’t taken the news well. She had gone on a three-day drinking binge with the members of Rude Doctrine—a popular alternative band—and ended up passed out the under the Hollywood sign, wearing nothing but lacy pink panties. She had been arrested for public intoxication and her mother, who was a vulture-like fame seeker, had taken control of her assets and upbringing.

After vanishing from the spotlight for a few months, Lola had emerged triumphant from rehab, looking confident and rested. Her beautiful face graced the cover of dozens of magazines touting the miracle of rehab and faith. Critics appeared hopeful that Lola would take up acting once again, perhaps in a small romantic comedy. For a few weeks, it appeared that the nation and the public eye had forgiven Lola, and that she would once again rise to the top of the list for in-demand actors. Then she was caught coming out of a hotel with Caesar Speena, a very well-known thespian and respected actor on the British stage. He was more famous, however for being married to America’s sweetheart, Juliet Speena. The fallout was instant and ruthless. The papers declared Lola a home wrecker, as did Mrs. Speena, who even went on
Oprah
to talk about how their affair had ruined her life. Juliet promptly divorced Caesar, and with the entire world hating him, Caesar had swiftly broken up with Lola. She was left alone by the ruthless Hollywood machine—blacklisted by the big film companies who wanted to make sure they didn’t offend Ms. Speena—and romanced by cheap, unscrupulous studios who just wanted to make a buck off her notoriety. She had starred in back-to-back horror films in the last year, and was a constant disaster on the red carpet. Lola Plumb was a paparazzi and gossip magnet—pure sales gold— and there was nothing she wouldn’t endorse. Just last month, Elly had read that she had worn a bikini made only of Blue Moon caps to a movie premiere.

Say something
! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the camera operator gesture wildly for her to do something. “Uhhh … yay!” Elly let out an excited cheer, raising her hands above her head and jumping lamely. She saw Snarky Teenage in the corner, leaning against the wall, the color draining from her face
. Get it together
, Elly thought. “Yaaayyy….” Her cheering died out, hands half-raised in the air. “Oh my
gosh
! I’m so excited to meet you.” There, that was better. Elly tried not to look directly into the camera. She saw Gemma Reynolds give a painful grimace.

Lola Plumb raised one perfectly arched eyebrow behind her huge sunglasses. “Uh, hello. Hi, I’m Lola Plumb.” She shuffled her tiny white Chihuahua to her hip and stuck out her tiny hand, which was covered with huge costume rings.

Elly took Lola’s hand nervously
(why hadn’t she thought to shake hands, oh, idiot!),
her own damp with sweat. She looked down. On second glance, those weren’t costume rings. Those were real, huge diamonds. Elly took a step back.

“Cut!” screamed Gemma. She stomped to the middle of room. “Ugh. That was horribly awkward, but it will have to do. We have a time constraint here. We’ll do some silent filming to get background shots of you talking, and then we’re off. Lola, is everything okay?”

Lola gave an uncomfortable sniff. “Yes, that sounds fine. Could I use the bathroom first?”

Gemma narrowed her eyes. “Sure. Elly, where is the bathroom?”

Elly was still looking at Lola, stunned that this illustrious celebrity was going to use her bathroom.
Did she even have toilet paper in there?
“Uh, hold on.” She raced back to the store bathroom, speed walking past Snarky Teenager and Anthony, who hovered in the corner. She poked her head in the bathroom.
Toilet paper? Check. Stains on the wall? Ugh. Check.
“Yes, yes, it’s right here. You can certainly use it.”

Lola gave a nod. She placed her dog on the floor. “Boogie,
stay
.” Tottering on her heels, she shakily made her way to the bathroom, shutting and locking herself inside of it.

“Great,” muttered Gemma, “she is probably snorting up in there.”

Elly looked over with wide eyes at the producer. Boogie raised his leg and peed on the carpet. Gemma shrugged and went back to her clipboard, muttering madly to herself. Elly was left standing outside the bathroom door. Snarky Teenager slipped beside her. “Lola Plumb is in OUR bathroom!” she hissed.
“Oh my God.”

Elly stood frozen. “I know. What do we do now?”

Snarky Teenager looked like she couldn’t breathe. “We never let anyone go in there again. They’ll take the magic.”

Elly stood nervously outside the door. After a few minutes, Gemma brushed past her. “Lola, are you okay in there? We should probably get the talking shots.”

“Um, yes, just a minute!” cried Lola.

Elly glanced over at Gemma, who gave Elly an exasperated look. “Celebrities,” she mumbled as she stomped back to the front of the store.

The brass doorknob turned, and Lola emerged looking much better than when she went in. “Sorry about that Gemma, sorry … er, sorry, what was your name?”

Elly stuck out her hand for the second time. “Elly. I’m your florist.”

“Oh, Elly!” Lola gave a squeal and wrapped her into a giant hug. She smelled of citrus and champagne. “I
loved
the pink rose petals on the ground. That was so inspired! The minute I saw it, I knew that you would be the florist for our wedding. I feel like we are on the same style wavelength.”

Elly glanced down at her black pants and denim jacket and over at Lola’s bright designer dress. “Definitely,” she said softly.

Lola walked quickly to the front, snatching up her little Chihuahua (“Boogie baby,” she cooed) and sat down at the consultation table. “Okay, Gemma, I’m ready. Go ahead.”

Gemma gave a curt nod and gestured for Elly to sit down. Elly sat gently, a button on her jacket popping open. Gemma leaned over them, her lean figure practically draped over Elly. “So, I just need to film you two talking, but the conversation will be dubbed and narrated later. On the show, we’ll have Lola talking about her vision with the different vendors. So, I just need you guys to talk for about five minutes to get the footage, okay? It doesn’t matter what you talk about.” Lola and Elly nodded, reluctant children listening to a bossy teacher. Gemma waved her finger in a circle. “You ready?” Greg, the handsome cameraman gave a thumbs-up. “Oh, and Lola, can you take off your sunglasses?”

“Oh, of course, I forgot they were on.” Lola gave a small, girlish laugh, like the tinkling of broken glass. She removed her Prada glasses slowly and set them down the table. Behind her huge, brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes, there was a deep exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that Elly didn’t think she had ever known. Dark-purple circles, almost bruising, ran just under her bottom lash. Lola was wearing a lot of makeup—Elly hadn’t noticed it before. Still, Lola had that aching, movie-star loveliness about her. Her small pink mouth quivered slightly.

Gemma cried, “Action!” They were on.

Elly turned to Lola, laying her hands flat upon the glass table. She hoped Lola didn’t notice the heat from her palms was fogging up the glass. “So, uh, wow! You’re here. You must be so excited to get married!”

Lola nodded solemnly. “Yes, it’s been quick planning. We were going to wait awhile before the wedding, but
BlissBride
really wanted us for their upcoming season.”

Elly suddenly realized that not only was she going to be on
BlissBride
, but that this particular wedding was probably the season finale.
Oh.
Getting Lola Plumb, the train wreck heard around the world, was probably ratings gold. “I, um….” Elly was at a loss. She had no idea that Lola Plumb was dating, let alone engaged. “I’m sorry, who is your fiancé?” Elly heard Gemma utter an adorable British curse word.

Lola smiled—a display of blinding white teeth—and bit her lip awkwardly. “That’s okay. We just met a little while ago. His name is Joe Keats.”

Elly had never heard of him. She voiced this sentiment, embarrassed. Lola seemed unfazed as she scratched her nose. “Thank you for not pretending to know who he is. That’s refreshing. He’s not famous. He’s actually the son of Roland Keats, the owner of the hotels?”

Ah
, thought Elly,
Keats Hotels
. There was one in practically every major city in the US. He was probably loaded. She was marrying an heir.
How fitting.

“Yes. He’s sort of famous, I guess, but not really. We’d been together for about two months when he proposed at his parents’ ski lodge in Park City about four weeks ago.”

Elly vaguely remembered seeing a picture of Lola in a ski-bunny outfit, a wine bottle in hand, her arm wrapped around a chubby, redheaded man. So that was Joe. She had assumed he was a fan. “How wonderful!” she replied cheerily. “May I ask, why are you getting married in St. Louis?”

Lola gave a grin. “Well, it’s where we met. I was here for a publicity stunt for Crown Royal, and it just happened to be at one of his hotels. We met in the hallway, and he helped me back to my room. I threw up on him, and he still slept on the couch in the room. In the morning, we had breakfast.”

That’s terrible
, thought Elly,
and terribly sweet
.

“Also, we love the arch.”

Elly held back a smile. Any St. Louisan worth their spit knew that the arch was overrated.

Lola looked down as a pink blush spread up her lightly freckled face. “Plus, Joe felt like there would be less paparazzi out here than in LA. We can hardly go anywhere without being photographed.”

That’s probably because you have a habit of throwing your purse or panties at them.
Elly looked up at Lola with a sympathetic smile. “That must be hard.”
Then why are you going on BlissBride?

Lola raised her lashes a tad before burying half her face into her dog’s white fur. Her left eye was twitching. “It is. You have no idea. I’m only doing
BlissBride
because my agent said it would help rehab my image.” She shrugged. “And the cash isn’t bad, either.”