The Bridal Bouquet. Tara Randel

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       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       EXTRACT

       COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

      KADY LAWRENCE DODGED the raucous wedding party eagerly heading for the reception-bound vehicles idling in the parking lot. Now that the photographer was concentrating solely on romantic bride-and-groom shots, Kady could transport the floral arrangements from the beach ceremony to the Grand Cypress Hotel ballroom.

      Her feet sank into the cool, smooth sand, her flats keeping a minimum of the sugary grains from shifting into her shoes and tickling her toes. The sun shone bright on this seasonably cool January day, making this postcard-perfect weather in Cypress Pointe, Florida. The azure-blue sky played backdrop to fluffy, scuttling clouds above. A bride’s dream come true, she thought. She glimpsed the couple staring into each other’s eyes, the crystalline waters of the Gulf of Mexico a stunning vista in the background.

      A brisk wind had whipped through during the ceremony, rustling the skirts of the bridesmaids’ dresses. But the bride lifted her face to the sky and laughed, welcoming the heady bluster with unbridled delight. The air settled after the brief swirl, but the gulf waters continued to churn, a vivid reminder of the natural elements surrounding them.

      While the couple laughed and enjoyed their special day, Kady’s thoughts ran more along the lines of asking the photographer if she could place some of his wedding prints on display in her family’s flower shop. She had three goals in life—number one, to make The Lavish Lily the one-stop floral shop for brides and all bridal-related events. Working with fellow wedding professionals could only propel her dream forward.

      Her other goals fed off the first—upgrade the family flower shop and win the wedding-bouquet category at the annual florist convention this year. Goals she was determined to fulfill, no matter what roadblocks stood in her way.

      The late morning ceremony had been performed on a wide wooden platform situated directly on the beach, with rows of bow-festooned chairs lined up for the guests. On either end of the platform were waist-high white pillars, a beautiful flower arrangement placed on each for the ceremony.

      Kady approached the first arrangement, sinking her nose into the fragrant collection. She adored the scent of fresh flowers, never tiring of the sweet aroma that touched her soul. Instead of going with a dozen traditional red roses, the bride had requested all white to go with her lovely gown, which was complemented by a red waist sash. Kady had designed a combination of gardenias, snow-white dahlias and white larkspur for height. Baby’s breath was nestled throughout, the arrangement set in crystal containers and each accented with a bright red bow. Quite stunning, if she did say so herself.

      “Kady,” Nellie, the bride, called out as her new husband took her hand to help her step from the platform onto the red aisle runner. “The flowers are gorgeous. I didn’t think you’d be able to create exactly what I wanted.”

      Why did everyone doubt her? She prided herself on being a competent floral designer and took each and every arrangement to heart. She knew from the beginning which flowers would please the bride and her mother, then sold them on her vision.

      “Wait until you get to the reception.”

      Nellie beamed. “We’re headed there now. See you there.”

      Kady nodded. “Just let me get these arrangements into the van. I’m delivering them myself.”

      “You are staying for the party, aren’t you?”

      Kady had been surprised at the impromptu invitation the last time she’d met with the bride. Normally she placed the flowers and other reception decor the bride had ordered, then left. But when Nellie asked her to join in the reception, she’d been honored.

      “Thanks. That’s so nice of you but I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”

      “I have a bunch of single cousins...” The bride left her suggestion open-ended, trying to wheedle Kady into changing her mind.

      “I’m not in the market for a guy.” Too many things to focus on at the moment, like pouring her time and energy into marketing the shop to brides. She had future weddings lined up and needed to prove to her parents that birthdays and funerals weren’t the only ways to sustain their business.

      Besides, she wasn’t dressed for the occasion, even though she always looked appropriate when making a delivery. Today, she’d matched a fitted coral blouse with a flowing, patterned skirt. Pretty, but definitely not wedding attire. She’d pulled her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way while she worked.

      “Come on. Every girl dreams of her special day,” the bride teased.

      “Not me.”

      Kady had never jumped on the crazy-bride bandwagon. Not after falling for a guy and having had him stomp on her heart. Instead, she was content to design flowers and hope her parents someday saw the talented woman she had grown into, rather than the aimless youth she’d once been.

      “Let’s go, babe,” Dean, the groom, said. Nellie waved and the couple headed for their limousine.

      It took three trips and fifteen minutes for Kady to get the flowers and pillars secured in the van before she set off for the reception. As she drove, she reviewed her mental checklist. She’d placed centerpieces and additional arrangements around the ballroom in advance of everyone arriving. The extra bridal bouquet, to be tossed into the group of single women at some point during the party, was waiting on a side table. Kady had even come up with what she dubbed a bouquet-docking station, a safe place for the bride and attendants to store their bouquets so they didn’t get lost or ruined during the reception. Satisfied, Kady stepped on the gas. The sooner she delivered these ceremony flowers, the sooner she’d be done.

      She’d just parked in the hotel lot when her cell phone rang. She swiped the screen and frowned. Her brother’s number.

      “Hey, Will.”

      “What time will you be back at the shop?” Right to the point, as always.

      Kady held back a groan. Her older brother, the “doer of no wrong,” checking in on her. She was thirty years old, for Pete’s sake. When would her family stop thinking of her as a screwup? Okay, so years ago she’d gotten sidetracked and forgotten to take the work van to get an oil change. And yeah, yeah, the engine had blown. And yes, she’d botched a big order from the wholesaler one time when she’d been in her Save the Manatee phase and spent more time gathering names on petitions than doing inventory.

      Always curious by nature, her mind switched gears with each new adventure calling her name. The more unique the challenge, the more Kady embraced it and stored away the experience, sure she’d later use the knowledge she’d gained. Her parents, spending long hours running the flower shop, were either too busy or frustrated to redirect their inquisitive daughter. Especially when Kady’s behavior continued well into her twenties.

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