The Bridal Bouquet

by Tara Randel

  “Kady, honey...”

  She held up her hand. “It’s fine, Mom. We’ll wait until Will gets back.”

  The bell over the front door chimed and Kady’s stomach twisted more. She heard her father speaking, then a softer male voice, and she knew it was Mr. Andrews. She swallowed. Will would return soon. She mentally prepared herself for the battle to come.

  While she girded her emotional defenses, her mother scurried about the workroom, gathering paper plates and utensils for their upcoming lunch. The bell sounded again and Will’s unmistakable voice boomed from the other room.

  “I’m back. Let’s all meet up front.”

  Her mother sent her a nervous glance and exited the room. Taking a deep breath, Kady followed, fisting her hands. She smoothed her facial expression to neutral and joined the others, determined to keep a level head no matter what happened.

  Standing amid open folding chairs, her brother handed out wrapped sandwiches as she walked in. Three years older, he had blond hair like their mother, along with intelligent blue eyes.

  “Hey, sis. How did the delivery go? The flowers were spectacular.”

  “Fine.” Her suspicions doubled. Will being nice after he’d been dogging her this morning? “This bride was easy to work with. I didn’t expect any problems.”

  “You remembered to set up a pick-up time to get the glass containers back, right?” her father asked. He handed out to-go cups of iced tea.

  “Yes, Dad. I spoke to the manager myself.”

  Kady delivered flowers to many functions at the Grand Cypress Hotel. She and the staff had developed a real camaraderie.

  “It’s not like I’ve left anything behind on purpose.”

  “There was a time when we had to keep tabs on you with the inventory and the van.”

  Kady wanted to shout. Would her parents ever let go of the past?

  “Everything is taken care of, Dad. No worries.”

  “Good. Then we can get started.” He passed Kady her food, which she hadn’t had a say in. Will probably got her a tuna fish sandwich when she would have preferred turkey. She pulled back the paper, and sure enough, the fishy smell made her wrinkle her nose. With her stomach already roiling, she set it aside. Tuna probably wasn’t a wise choice right now.

  Will bit into a pickle, chewed and took a sip of his tea. “Dad, would you like to start?”

  Her father cleared his throat. Why was he so nervous?

  “Kady, you know this shop has been in our family for generations.”

  She nodded. Her grandparents originally opened The Lavish Lily. Past history.

  “As much as your mother and I have loved working here, proud that our efforts supported the family and we made a name in the community...” He stopped. Sent a pleading look to her mother.

  This was not good.

  Her father took a deep breath. “We’ve decided to retire and sell the business.”

  Silence descended upon the room. After a few seconds, Kady reminded herself to breathe. “What?” she finally spluttered.

  Her mother reached over and covered Kady’s hand with hers. “We’re tired, Kady. It’s time for a change.”

  She studied her parents, who were sitting side by side. They were in their late fifties, kind of young to retire, but they’d worked all her life with few vacations. She regarded them in that light now and noticed fine lines on her mother’s face and circles under her father’s eyes, his dark brown hair graying. Just as they’d admitted, they did indeed seem worn-out.

  So many questions filled her head, Kady didn’t know where to start. “How long have you felt like this?”

  “Six months,” her mother answered, as her father responded simultaneously, “A year.”

  She sank back in her chair. “Wow.”

  Will opened a notebook by his side. Probably filled with numbers to satisfy the logical part of his brain. “As the family financial adviser, I need to bring you up to speed.” He rattled off figures that made Kady’s eyes go wide. Over the years, her parents had invested and saved up a considerable amount of money. More than Kady’d ever imagined.

  “If you have so much money, why sell the shop?”

  Her parents exchanged glances.

  “It’s time,” her mother answered.

  “But you know about my goals. I’ve already started to make inroads into the wedding market. With that income, I can upgrade the shop. And the florist convention is next week. I’m entered in the wedding-bouquet design category and this year I can beat the competition.”

  “We appreciate your dedication,” her father said. “But we don’t have the energy to rebuild the business.”

  “I do,” she protested. “I thought you were on board with my ideas.”

  “We are...were,” her mother said. “But lately we’ve been talking about going away, and, well—”

  “You don’t trust me with the shop.”

  Another abrupt silence sucked the air out of the room. She knew her parents had questioned her commitment ever since she’d started full-time, but in the past year, Kady thought she’d worked hard to erase these doubts. Apparently not.

  “Kady,” her brother said quietly, “we’ve talked about this and decided to take a vote. It’s the fair thing to do.”

  Years ago, the ownership of the shop had been divided four ways, each member of the family holding an equal share. Kady already knew which way her parents would vote and assumed Will was on their side.

  “Why bother?”

  “Now, Kady,” her mother admonished. “Don’t be like this.”

  “Be like what? Shocked that you’ve been talking about a major family decision and didn’t think to include me? Heartbroken over the fact that I love this place and now you want to take it away? I thought you believed in my vision.” She glared at her brother. “I brought you projections and a business plan. You agreed it was solid. And now you want to yank that out from under me, too?”

  “I never said—”

  She held up a hand to stop her brother and then faced her parents. “You still see me as the girl who makes mistakes, even though I’ve proven the opposite. No messing up orders. No losing keys to the delivery van. My mind is focused.” She stopped for a breath. Her dreams were evaporating right before her eyes. “Let me buy the shop. I can apply for a loan, work extra hours—”

  “Kady—”

  “Please give me a chance.” She hated begging but what other choice did she have? She could start her own business elsewhere, maybe, but she loved The Lavish Lily.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyelids. No. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Maybe we could sort something out,” her mother said, clearly troubled by her emotional reaction. “Mark?”

  Her father was scrutinizing her. She could see the indecision in his eyes. For the first time since the meeting had started, Kady felt hope.

  “You guys can go on a trip or travel in a motor home or whatever you want. I’ll be right here, making money.”

  Her father’s brow rose. He always brightened at the prospect of making money. “Our plans aren’t carved in stone.”

  Buoyed by his positive reaction, Kady threw caution to the wind. “How about this—if I win first place in the bridal bouquet competition this year, you give me a real chance to build up a wedding clientele. I’ll run the shop. You don’t have to be involved at all.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting.

  “Kady, you’ve come in second place for three years now,” her mother responded. “What makes you think you’ll win this time?”

  “I’ve been practicing all year.” And she had. She was tired of losing. She’d studied trends and questioned her friends about what kinds of flowers and styles they would choose for their own wedding bouquets. “After comi
ng in runner-up for so long, I’m ready with a stand-out entry. I’ll knock Queen Jasmine off her throne for sure.”

  Her parents didn’t seem convinced.

  “This year the convention committee’s opened the event to the public,” Kady continued. “Brides-to-be from all over the area have been invited to come view the bouquets and centerpieces and other contest entries before announcing the winners. We couldn’t pay for that kind of exposure.”

  “That is true,” her father agreed.

  “And what are you going to do when Mom and Dad go on their vacation?” Will asked. “I can’t do deliveries or run the shop. I have my own business to worry about.”

  Unease trickled down her spine. She hoped her next suggestion didn’t blow her case. “I could hire someone. Part-time? Then you wouldn’t have to worry about anything except enjoying your time together.”

  Her mother stood. “Mark, let’s go in the back and talk about this.”

  Together they walked to the workroom.

  “I doubt this’ll happen, Kady,” Will said. “They’ve made up their minds.”

  “Really? If that’s so, they wouldn’t have gone off to consider my proposal.”

  “Kady, what are you thinking?”

  “That I want to run this business, Will. Do you really believe I can’t do this?”

  She thought about the success of her floral designs at today’s wedding. She’d done it all, professionally, and with no errors, even though she’d nearly dropped one of the arrangements.

  She suddenly thought about the man with the strange-colored eyes. Dylan had been impressed with her. And why was she even thinking about this? Because it was easier than the alternative—losing all she’d begun to build.

  Her brother stood. Paced. Ran a hand through his normally styled hair. “I want what’s best for Mom and Dad.”

  “Even if they decide to give me a shot?”

  He met her gaze. “Yes. You’ve really stepped up, taking over most of the running of the shop. And I agree with your idea to corner the wedding market.”

  “Wait. What are you saying?”

  “I’m on your side. I’ve seen your drive and dedication. I’m—” He was interrupted by their mother.

  “We’ve talked it over.” Ruthie came to a stop in the middle of the room, her eyes dancing as she met those of her husband’s. “We’re willing to reach a compromise for now. We are going to go away, on a cruise, I think. Kady, you take over daily operations. Hire help.”

  “Kady, this should give you time to implement your plans,” her father added. “Win the competition. Prove to us you can handle taking over the business permanently. When we come back, we’ll revisit the subject.”

  Kady jumped up, smiling. “Thank you,” she said, hugging her mother. Then she grabbed her father. “You won’t be sorry.”

  “No, we won’t be because your brother will be checking in on you.” Her father stopped her before she could protest. “Deal or no deal?”

  Kady decided not to argue with the offer. “Deal.”

  “Good,” he said, though he’d taken a little wind from her sail. “Get the job done, Kady, or we’ll sell.”

  * * *

  DYLAN STOOD BY the window, lost in the beach view. The sun, orange in the fading wash of the purple sky, dipped closer and closer to the horizon. The reception had officially ended around three, but the family had remained, happily catching up with each other. Dylan and his brothers fell into that category. They’d mingled long after the bride and groom had left for their honeymoon.

  Hanging out wasn’t as painful as Dylan imagined. His family had been very considerate of his request not to talk about the situation surrounding his injury. Instead they razzed him about not having a girlfriend, which he could handle much easier than reliving the shooting and the loss of Eddie. He reserved that pain alone for the dark hours of the night, when he wrestled with his guilt over the shooting. His brothers probed, but he shut them down. His mother hadn’t put her two cents in yet, but he knew it was coming.

  “Sit,” his mother commanded. Tall and regal, her olive skin announced her Mediterranean heritage. Her dark hair held little gray and her brown eyes were sharp, not missing a thing where her sons were concerned. “I saw you limping down the hallway.”

  He didn’t argue. He loved this woman, as did his brothers. That was why even though they griped about the convention every year, one of them would always be with her.

  She was right, though. He’d limped all the way to her room. Time to rest.

  “Now, my darling boys—”

  Deke groaned. His mother sent him a stern look.

  “It’s time for the annual Sunshine State Florist Convention. Which of my loving sons is going to escort me this year?”

  Dylan peered at his brothers, all of whom wore the same long-suffering expression. No one would question if they were related. Dark like their mother, only Dylan and Derrick had their father’s lighter eyes. And like their parents, all four were tall and lean. All in law enforcement of some kind.

  “Mom, we love you,” Derrick began. “But this has to end. Can’t you find a friend to go with you?”

  “If your father were here he’d be shocked at you all. Trying to pawn your mother off on someone else.”

  “Oh, great. The dad card,” Dante mumbled in Dylan’s direction.

  “I don’t know why this is such a burden for you boys. It’s not like I ask anything else of you.”

  “I take your car for an oil change every five thousand miles,” Deke pointed out.

  “I still cut the grass, even though I’ve offered to pay a lawn service to do it,” Dante added.

  “And I call you every week,” Dylan said.

  All heads turned to Derrick. “I got nothing.”

  “That’s because you cheat,” Deke told him.

  “That’s enough,” their mother proclaimed. “I know you are all adults. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate every one of you.” She eyed Derrick. “Even you.”

  Deke punched him in the arm.

  “But this year is different. I was asked to give a workshop and I’ve accepted. It’s my first public-speaking event and I need moral support.”

  Derrick brightened up, the first of the brothers to cross the room and hug their mother. “Awesome news, Mom.”

  “Congrats,” Dylan said, his heart softening as he viewed his mother’s teary eyes. He thought her wiping away a fake tear was a little much, but it was the way Jasmine Matthews worked.

  “I promise after this year I won’t ask any of you to tag along with me. Aunt Betty has expressed an interest, especially since Uncle Frank is going to retire. She can come with me next year.”

  Dylan was about to throw out an excuse for not attending this year when his cell rang. He slipped it from his pocket, frowning when the division office number appeared on the screen.

  “Can’t this wait?” his mother asked, a reprimand in her voice.

  He held up the phone. “The office. I should see what they want.”

  She nodded and turned her attention back to the captive audience. He eased open the sliding door, stepping onto the balcony. The temperature had dipped with the impending night and a heady breeze kicked up. Dylan pulled the collar of his jacket closer to his neck. “Matthews.”

  “Dylan, it’s Tom Bailey. I’ve got some news I think you should hear.”

  “I’m at a family wedding. Can’t it wait?”

  “It’s about Esposa.”

  The man who’d disappeared after killing Eddie. Dylan had searched high and low, as had other law-enforcement agencies, but the dealer disappeared underground. No one had seen or heard from him since.

  Anger burned in Dylan’s chest. “What have you got?”

  “A buddy of mine
in Tampa is on a joint task force with local police departments. He heard about what went down with Esposa. One of his contacts made a positive sighting.”

  “Where?”

  “Just outside of Tampa. I remembered you said you’d be near there, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”

  In his research, Dylan had learned that Esposa had family in the Tampa area, but after having the local district office keep a watch on them, the agents hadn’t found any evidence to corroborate that Esposa had relocated there. Esposa was able to lie low in a place the DEA wouldn’t know of because he’d built a loyal network of people who would hide him indefinitely. But maybe Dylan had caught a break.

  Cypress Pointe was only forty-five minutes outside of Tampa. Dylan needed to act on the tip.

  “Thanks, Tom. I owe you.”

  “Pizza and a round of pool should make us even.”

  “Deal.”

  Dylan ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal balcony railing. The breeze cooled his heated face. Finally. This was his chance to make Esposa pay. Time to get justice for Eddie.

  Except he couldn’t allow Esposa to have any inkling he was here. If the dealer caught wind that Dylan had received a credible tip, he’d take off. Dylan might not have an opportunity like this again. He had to play this smart or his chances of catching the guy would again drop to zero. He needed to hang around and come up with a strategy.

  His brothers’ laughter pulled him from his thoughts. He went back into the room. Being here with his family, seeing them safe and healthy, made his chest hurt. Since living in Miami, he’d been too far away from them. The wedding had been a worthwhile reason to reconnect. He’d missed sparring with his brothers, missed the creative ways their mother found to keep her sons active in her life.

  It also reminded him this was why he did the work he did. To keep families, like his and so many others, safe from dealers who cared about only money and power.

  “Excellent,” his mother said. “You’re back. I was just telling your brothers about my workshop. It’s all about making the bride imagine what she needs for her special day, not necessarily what she wants. I’ve found...”