I was not, historically, very good at taking the win.
But I tried. Ivan ordered glasses of champagne and followed up with a bouquet, and I had to send Lana out for more vases because the production company sent flowers too. Victor sent a whole ficus.
And as my team gathered round my dining table, Lana carried in yet another vase. This was full of long shooting flowers in white, pink, and burgundy, speckled with studding blooms of mauve and gold. I leaned for the card, catching the herby smell of them as I did.
I’ll try to watch this one—H x
“What does this mean?” I asked. Lana set it on the table before me with the others.
Ruchi took a quick look. “Probably that she’ll watch it. Ignore it, Nadine. This was supposed to be a rivalry for publicity, not to actually get to you.”
“It’s not getting to me,” I protested, slumping back in my chair.
“Well, in that case, back to business. I think you should bring a date to the—”
“Apparently white camellia mean: ‘You’re adorable,’” Amos interrupted, tapping away at his laptop.
“Right, so Harper’s just being a patronizing bitch.” I sighed, reassured by the slight. I wasn’t sure I could handle another bout of pretend friendship.
Lana leaned over Amos’s chair. “Oh, those dark ones are acanthus; look those up.”
I reached for the flowers to check for a tag explaining which each of them was.
“Oh, dear god, please, can we focus?” Ruchi moaned.
“Acanthus are the fine arts,” Amos said, then flashed me a grin. “And artifice.”
“That seems appropriate.”
“Ithinkthe purple ones match this picture. Chives. Which are usefulness.”
“Makes sense.”
“None of this makes sense,” Ruchi grumbled.
“Check out hyacinth,” Lana told him.
“Playing a game,” Amos read.
“Are the yellow ones goldenrod?” Lana asked, leaning closer and reading: “Good luck?”
“No,” Ruchi sighed, leaning her head into her hands. “It’s tansy.”
Amos could hardly answer for laughing. “A declaration of war.”
“Well,” Lana said with a mischievous smile. “Doesn’t that just summarize it all?”
“Can wepleasemove on now?” Ruchi begged. “We don’t need to give her more attention than she’s already begging for.”
“Fine,” I said, but my eyes kept tracking to the flowers. I was appreciative of them—they were a beautiful sort of message, carefully curated with time and thought, a private message to me. I wondered if Harper had ordered them or gathered them herself. She did so love a personal touch—I could see her plucking each stem, her graceful fingers tucking them precisely in place.
After everyone left, I’d have Lana take them from the vase to be dried so I could send them back, or maybe I’d display them proudly to unnerve her next time she paid me a visit.
“As I was saying, I think you should bring a date to the Golden Globes.”
“No.”
“Nadine, come on,” she pushed. “This is great PR, and I can probably call in anyone in Hollywood. You can literallymail order your dream man. Nathaniel Frost would be great; everyone loves that show. Oh, or Joel Ingram? Soccer is gaining traction here, so we can get in before he’s huge—and he’s already a household name in the UK, right? You’d be such a cute couple.”
