Free Marrying Mr. Right by Cathy Tully

Chapter One
    I think I’m going to throw up.
    As Missy Modesto wrapped a colorful bouquet in coordinating tissue paper for the customer who waited patiently at the counter, she cleared her throat then repeated the nauseating message the client on the phone requested she write on the card that would be attached to two-dozen red roses, “Pumpkin Pie…Happy Anniversary. Forever Yours, Jerr Bear.”
    Bile rose in her throat. She didn’t mean to sound cynical, but even after twenty-seven years of marriage she and her ex, Vinnie, never spoke to each other that way. She blew out a breath. That’s probably why they were in the middle of a divorce.
    “Perfect!” the caller, a Mr. Ross, crowed. “She’ll love it.”
    “Wonderful,” Missy said. Because I couldn’t repeat it if you wanted me to .
    Mr. Ross disconnected. Missy’s stomach settled.
    The bell above the shop door chimed again. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing since Missy arrived at The Flower Box earlier this morning. She handed Mrs. Prime, the long-time elderly client, her weekly bouquet of mixed flowers. “Enjoy.”
    Mrs. Prime smiled then exited the shop.
    Missy quickly intercepted the ringing phone, noting the caller ID before speaking. Did every obsessive compulsive women living in this end of New Jersey conspire to demand her services today? Was there something in the water? In the air? Was the moon about to go full?
    On a sigh, Missy said, “Mrs. Butler, your order will be delivered by five o’clock today. I’ll see to it myself.”
    She no sooner disconnected when the phone rang again—just as the bell above the door signaled yet another customer had entered the small store.
    “One dozen red roses for next Wednesday?” Missy jotted the order on the pad beside the register. “No problem, Mr. Wagner. I’ll use the credit card number on file. Have a good day.”
    When she looked up, she wasn’t prepared to see her daughter‘s smiling face. “Oh my gosh, Cara! Did I forget something?”
    Cara chuckled. “No, Mom, and you’re not having a senior moment. I wanted to surprise you.”
    The two women hugged then Missy stepped back to assess her daughter. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?”
    With a dramatic eye roll, Cara said, “Only all the time.”
    Her shoulder length brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her clear brown eyes sparkled. Even with minimal make-up, she was still breathtaking. A navy blue skirt and blazer, a beige silk blouse, pearl studs, and navy blue pumps finished Cara’s look. No matter how she tried, Missy didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing her daughter, an up and coming attorney, in a business suit and heels. For years, the kid had lived in sweats and t-shirts, swearing she wouldn’t be caught dead in high heels.
    “So what brings you to town on a Thursday?”
    Cara handed over a small box wrapped in bright pink paper. “I wanted to see you on your birthday.”
    “You shouldn’t have.” Missy ripped it open like a kid at Christmas. “What is it?” Beneath cotton batting, she found a pin in the shape and appearance of Hugo, the love of her life. “It’s fabulous!” she squealed. “Put it on me.”
    After Cara fastened the pin in place on her lapel, Missy turned to check her image in the mirror beside the counter.
    “Is Ann coming in today?” Cara asked.
    Ann Black had been Missy’s assistant since she opened the shop. Missy checked her watch. “She should be here in a few minutes.”
    “Great, then I can take you to lunch.” She placed her black patent leather clutch on the counter and walked around the shop, sniffing a bouquet here, touching a silk arrangement there.
    Missy’s mouth tightened in a straight line. “Is everything okay? Dan is well?”
    At the mention of Dan O’Brien, a Wall Street stockbroker with whom Cara had been living with for the past two years, a huge smile spread across Cara’s beautiful face. “Everything’s…perfect.”
    Before Missy could