Out of the Blue Bouquet (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Out of the Blue Bouquet by Amanda Tru

  Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.

  All brand names or products mentioned in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names and are the sole ownership of the respective holders. Amanda Tru is not associated with any products or brands mentioned in this book.

  PUBLISHED BY: Walker Hammond Publishers

  All scripture quotes or references are from the English Standard Version of the Bible.

  Library Cataloging Data

  Tru, Amanda (Amanda Tru) 1978-

  Bride of Regret / Amanda Tru

  Summary: When Brooke is left in charge of Crossroads Floral, she accidentally sends the flower deliveries to the wrong people. Unfortunately, some of those wrong people include all of the ex-girlfriends of the most eligible bachelor in town. Are Brooke's mistakes a complete disaster, or can there be something beautiful in an out-of-the-blue bouquet?

  Identifiers: ISBN-13: 978-1-68190-042-1 (trade) | ISBN-13: 978-1-68190-041-4 (Print on Demand) | ISBN-13: 978-1-68190-040-7 9 (ebook)

  1. Western 2. Mail Order Bride 3. Traditional Romance 4. male and female relationships 5. Christian Inspiration

  “I don’t think this is a good idea!” Brooke spoke emphatically into the phone. Giving a little too much oomph to her car door, it slammed shut, as if to punctuate her words. “I just arrange the flowers. Making sure the orders are delivered is not part of my job description!”

  “You are my employee,” Brooke’s boss insisted on the other end of the call. “As such, your job is what I say it is. It isn’t that hard. Tylee has all the information you need.”

  Brooke sighed and nervously twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger as she paced in front of her older model Volkswagon Jetta. “Isn’t there another way, Helen? I don’t mean to be disagreeable, but I’m really not comfortable with this. You just started the online business, and you expect me to take care of all of those orders as well as the local ones? I don’t know the computer passwords or how to manage the site. In fact, you’ve expressly not taught me or given me any kind of access to anything other than the flowers. I don’t know the first thing about what to do!”

  Helen’s voice was icy. “Brooke Hutchins, would you please think of someone other than yourself? I am at a funeral for a family member! I am grieving, and you can’t manage Crossroads Floral for one day?” Loud sniffing came through the line, suggesting that a generous display of tears was forthcoming.

  Guilt started to creep up, but Brooke pushed it away. This was Helen Garrison. There was none tougher than the sixty-six-year-old woman. While most her age were retiring, Helen had just expanded her company into the world of online business. She was stubborn, resilient, and only had feelings if they were convenient for getting her what she wanted.

  Brooke put her hand to her already aching head, trying to think of a way to placate the woman who filled out her paychecks. “I didn’t realize you were so upset about the funeral,” she finally managed. “I thought he was someone you weren’t especially close to, a distant relation. Didn’t you say he was your cousin’s husband?”

  “He’s actually my cousin’s first husband,” Helen clarified. “But her second and third husband won’t attend the funeral, so I’m all she has. We were all so close at one time, and now we’ll never get a chance to say goodbye.” More sniffles.

  Brooke shook her head in confusion. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want any more details. “And there is no way to delay the orders a day?” she asked instead, flinging the question out in one last-ditch effort.

  “No, there is not,” Helen said, the steel in her voice now replacing the tears. “It isn’t that difficult, Brooke. Like I said, Tylee has all the information, and I gave her instructions, like a substitute plan for just one day.”

  Brooke slowly let out her breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Normally a substitute plan would be adequate, but knowing that all the information resided with Helen’s granddaughter, Tylee, was more than a little unnerving. Tylee was young, forgetful, and altogether silly. Brooke really figured she had a better chance of handling the day’s duties without Tylee’s assistance.

  “I guess I can call you if I run into difficulties,” Brooke said, finally resigning herself to her fate. Opening the car door once again, she reached back in to grab her purse. Now that there was obviously no way out of the day’s duties, Brooke wanted to hurry and get the mess figured out and over with as soon as possible.

  “No, you cannot,” Helen shot back. “I am turning my phone off. I need the time to grieve and not be bothered.”

  “But what if there’s a problem with the orders?” Brooke protested.

  “For heaven’s sake, Brooke! Just deal with it!”

  Suddenly, there was no sound. “Helen?”

  But the line was dead. Helen had hung up on her!

  Fuming, Brooke gripped her phone so tightly her fingers turned white. It was that or throw the thing, and she couldn’t afford to replace it. What really made her mad was that she wasn’t given the chance to hang up on Helen first!

  Slamming the car door a second time, Brooke grumbled a furious monologue at Helen, at the lousy November weather that had already turned the beautiful autumn colors drab, and at the stupid reality that meant she was barely making ends meet working at a small-town florist shop. Brooke felt like a complete failure, which was a feeling she’d rather grown accustomed to in her twenty-five years.

  She marched to the front door of Crossroads Floral Co. and pushed it open. She immediately took offense at the bright tingling of the happy bell above her and vowed that first chance she got, she would take the thing down, at least while Helen was away.

  “Oh good!” Tylee greeted, instantly rushing forward to give Brooke a quick, impulsive hug. “I was so worried you wouldn’t come!”

  “I’m here,” Brooke said dryly. “But not by choice.”

  Tylee nodded. “Grammie gave me all of the lists and told me what to do, but I figured you’d still be worried about it since she’s never had us do any of the work with orders before.”

  Brooke wasn’t opposed to learning the business side of the floral shop, but Helen was controlling and unorganized, which was not a good combination. She never trusted anyone, not even her granddaughter, to use the accounts, and had therefore never taught any of them how to access the orders or any kind of records. Brooke was the floral designer. Tylee was the delivery person. And their tasks never diverged. It was ridiculous to the point that, even if they happened to take an order, they had to write the information on paper so Helen could later input it into the computer. Then, all of the order instructions were printed off for Brooke each day.

  With that being their background, they were now supposed to run the shop themselves? And Brooke had a bad feeling that all of Helen’s “substitute plans” might be sorely lacking in organization. Possibly a worse feeling was knowing that, no matter what happened or what information they might find missing, they were completely on their own.

  “Ok, show me what we need to do,” Brooke said, determined to make the most of her fate. If they could get Helen’s list of orders out of the way, then they would only have to babysit the shop to assist with any orders that were placed today.

  Heading toward the front counter, Brooke tripped over a tall, plastic vase with a gaudy bunch of multicolored flowers. Catching her balance, she took deep breaths, waiting for both the pain and her anger to subside. Her shin would surely carry a bruise now, and all because of the horrid decorations Helen insisted on filling her shop with. Ugly fountains, flamboyant silk flower arrangements, and a few nightmarish statues all littered the front of the shop in a seemingly haphazard manner. Brooke had no idea why Helen kept the “merchandise.” To her knowledge, not a single item from the resident collection had ever sold. The baskets, vases, and containers that were popular were located back in the store where Brooke worked and were items that she picked o
ut and purchased as part of her supplies.

  Brooke took the time to move an ugly, brown ceramic toad from near her foot, and then stood up to see Tylee’s papers spread on the counter.

  “By the way,” Brooke said to the younger woman, “thank you for staying here to help me today. I know the funeral is for a member of your family as well. I’m not sure why you didn’t go with Helen, but I really appreciate you not abandoning me and leaving me all of this work to do myself.

  Tylee blinked her big, brown eyes in surprise, and then shrugged. “We weren’t close at all to Uncle Art. He wasn’t even really an uncle. He was married to one of Grammie’s cousins, but then they got divorced a long time ago. I didn’t even know who he was when Grammie told me that Uncle Art passed away. Then I remembered that he was the guy Grammie threw out of the house at Christmas dinner when I was about five. I don’t think she’s spoken to him since then.”

  Brooke raised her eyebrows. “Helen seemed pretty upset when I talked with her. Maybe Art meant more to her than she realized.”

  Tylee shook her head seriously. “I guess, but if she’s this upset, then we’d better get used to running the shop ourselves. Grammie’s cousins have a whole lot of exes, which means that’s a whole lot of funerals she’ll have to go to.”

  Brooke stifled an outright guffaw, barely managing a mere smile instead. Tylee may not be the hardest worker, the quickest learner, or even the most adept socially, but Brooke really did adore her. She was a ray of sunshine, and seeing the world through her unique perspective never ceased to cheer Brooke up. Most of the things she said weren’t intentionally funny, but were said in a completely innocent and serious manner, which made them even more hilarious.

  Brooke knew that the only reason Tylee worked at the shop was because of her grandma. When the cute brunette had graduated high school last year, college hadn’t been an option. She’d had zero qualifications or work experience, and was rather adrift about what she wanted to do with her life. Helen had said she could work at the shop, and although she lacked skill in almost every area, Brooke was happy to have her.

  “So this is the list of local orders,” Brooke said, picking up one of the papers with way more enthusiasm than she felt.

  “Yes,” Tylee nodded. “The only order that isn’t on the list is one that came in early this morning after Grammie printed this off. She imputed it into the computer and clicked print right before she ran out the door, but I checked, and it didn’t print because the printer was out of paper.”

  “Great,” Brooke groaned. “Helen already turned her phone off. How are we going to get that order?”

  “Oh, that’s easy!” Tylee replied, a shrewd light in her eyes. “It was a Dylan Masters’ order.”

  Brooke brightened. “Is it the same order as last week? Do you remember who you delivered it to?”

  Tylee shook her head, “No, I think he has a new girlfriend.”

  “Isn’t that the third one this month?” Brooke said, shaking her head.

  Dylan Masters was one of their regular customers, but the recipient of his flowers was definitely not regular. The man was a Casanova.

  Brooke wiggled her eyebrows and teased, “Did you manage to slip him your number so you can be next on his list of Crossroads women?”

  “No,” Tylee sighed dramatically. “He phoned the order in so I never got a chance. I’ll have to try next time.”

  Tylee was already half in love with the man, and it was understandable. He was gorgeous, and it was easy to see why he had a never-ending line of girlfriends. Brooke had never actually spoken to him, but she enjoyed watching from afar as Helen and Tylee fawned all over him. Brooke had no qualm with teasing Tylee about her infatuation, though, because she doubted that the young woman would ever manage to give him her number. She was a little young for Dylan, who Brooke guessed to be in his early thirties, and it was awfully difficult to have an intelligible conversation with a man if you practically melted to the floor in a babbling mess every time he showed up.

  “Wait, so if it isn’t the same order as last week, how will we get the information?” Brooke asked, realizing that the crafty light in Tylee’s eyes hadn’t dimmed.

  “I know Grammie’s password to the computer!” she whispered conspiratorially.

  “Really?” Brooke whispered back, surprised. Though they were alone in the store, a whisper seemed the appropriate voice level for such a topic. “How did you come by that?

  Not only was Brooke impressed that Tylee had found the password, but she was also impressed that she would remember it!

  Tylee opened her mouth to answer, but then, confusion suddenly clouded her brow, and she stopped. Instead, she walked over to Helen’s desk and retrieved her grandmother’s favorite coffee mug, the one shaped like a frog.

  Returning to Brooke, she flipped it over and held it out.

  Brooke accepted the mug, peering at the writing on the bottom. “Helen wrote her password on the bottom of her coffee mug?” she asked, incredulous.

  Tylee giggled. “Yes! I’ve seen her looking at it when she’s trying to log on and can’t remember it!”

  Brooke looked at the letters and numbers. “But it’s just her initials and the year she was born!”

  Tylee shrugged. “I’ve tried it, and it works for the computer, but nothing else. There is a different password for the online program and for different accounts, but the local orders are in a program that doesn’t have a password lock. We can just type in Dylan Master’s name and print out his missing order!”

  “Tylee, you’re brilliant!” Brooke said enthusiastically.

  The young woman flushed, and Brooke realized that she had probably never had the word “smart” applied to her, let alone, “brilliant.”

  “Now, what are these other papers?” Brooke asked, picking up one of the other lists on the counter.

  “Those are the orders that were placed online with Grammie’s new website.”

  “But, Tylee, these are all orders for out of town, and some are… out of the country? What am I supposed to do with these?” It felt like she had swallowed a rock that was expanding in her stomach like a balloon.

  “Grammie said you’d have to call the individual florists in each city.” She pointed to one of the columns on the list. “See, right here.”

  “But with these being online, shouldn’t the information be automatically sent to the florist local to where the delivery is?”

  Tylee shook her head. “Grammie hasn’t quite figured out how to make that automatic yet. This is a new company she’s working with. So far she really likes it better than some of the others. Individual florists can set up their own website to draw in customers, then they get commissions on orders placed through them, even if they are fulfilled across the world. She offered a coupon code for customers yesterday, and it worked! She got orders placed from people around the world, to be delivered around the world!”

  “She did that before she had everything figured out?” Brooke said, exasperated. This was typical Helen behavior. She would get excited about a new scheme and go all-in before taking the time to figure it out. Such things usually fizzled before she had learned everything, and then she was quickly onto the next “make-you-rich-quick” plan.

  “Well, she said it would be easy,” Tylee said, suddenly looking uncertain. “All you have to do is call the other florists, and their names and numbers are right on this paper.”

  “But some of these orders are overseas! What if no one speaks English? I’m sorry, I just don’t know if my Korean is up to the challenge!” Brooke pointed to the order purposed for South Korea.

  “Grammie didn’t think it’d be a problem,” Tylee reassured. “I heard her call in internet orders earlier this week. Of course, I think she’s only had to do two so far. That promotion code really worked! How many do we have? Ten?”

  “Something like that,” Brooke grumbled forlornly. “I guess I’d better get at it.”

  “Oh! I have something that migh
t help!” Tylee reached over and grabbed a white cup from the local coffee shop. “Coffee! I knew it was going to be a rough day, so I got you the largest size they have. I wasn’t sure what you liked, but you seem like a straight-up black coffee kind of girl to me, so I went with it.”

  “Thank you,” Brooke said, forcing a smile to the kind-hearted girl. The reason Tylee didn’t know how Brooke took her coffee is because Brooke never took coffee. She hated it.

  But now, looking at Tylee’s eager-to-please face, she took a sip, thinking that if any day was a day to start drinking coffee, this was it.

  Barely managing not to gag at the hot, bitter brew lurching down her throat, Brooke picked up one of the lists. She may as well start at the top, which as luck would have it, appeared to be a foreign country—some place called Eyjania.

  Lord, I don’t want to do this! Brooke prayed silently as she looked at the list in trepidation. Please help me to get through this day and not mess things up too badly! Oh, and please let someone in Eyjania speak English!

  “Oh, let me get Dylan’s order printed out for you,” Tylee said suddenly, ending Brooke’s impromptu prayer.

  Taking a step to head to the computer around the counter, Tylee’s foot found the ceramic toad Brooke had moved earlier.

  She tripped.

  Her arms flung out to catch her balance and keep her from crashing into a pile of Helen’s decorations. However, before the hand found the counter, it found Brooke’s cup of coffee.

  Brooke screeched as the cup flew out of her hand. As if in slow motion, she made a grab for it with her right hand, then her left. Each impact only sent the cup in another cartwheel that spewed the coffee out like the blades of a fan. It finally crashed into the counter with such force that the lid flew off.

  Brooke jumped back and put her hands up to shield her face as warm, dark liquid launched into the air in a fantastic splatter pattern.

  “Oh no! Oh no!” Tylee yelped, hopping up and down from one foot to the other. But since the coffee had sat awhile, it was not very hot, and Brooke was pretty sure Tylee had managed to jump far enough away that the shoes hopping up and down were likely the young woman’s only casualty.