Summary from Amazon UK
‘The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop is warm, witty and wonderful. I absolutely adored Evie and Scott.’ Rosanna Ley
The summer romance novel everyone is talking about!
Evie is busy running the Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop and praying for an uplift in sales as soon as possible. She might be in the market of selling romance, but for Evie a new man is the last thing she needs!
That is until plumber Scott Castillo turns up to fix her boiler. She’s definitely not interested. But then, why does she keep ogling his rather attractive forearms? She’s been fooled before – she isn’t about to fall head-over-heels for some smooth-talker, right?
When he isn’t trying to balance paying the bills with caring for his sick mother, Scott has stepped in to help parent his 18-year-old nephew, Ben. Between that and working full time Scott doesn’t have time for romance. Until he meets Evie…
Love doesn’t always bloom the way you expect but for the customers of the Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop it might just be the perfect time for romance…
This is the perfect read for fans of Lucy Diamond and Rachael Lucas.
[Extract 5 from Chapter 3 pp. 21-23]
Evie ignored their collective laughter. Saffy might be fooled by his charming persona, but she wasn’t. She was older – as Saffy had kindly pointed out – and wiser. She’d been duped by a smooth-talking Lothario before and she wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it a second time.
Unfortunately, Scott chose that moment to look up, catching Evie staring at the muscles in his forearms. She turned away, unsure of why she’d been ogling.
The front door chimed and Martin Harper burst into the shop, accompanied by a chilly gust of wind. He looked harassed and a lot older than his thirty-something years. He didn’t even glance at the flowers, just strode over to Evie, briefcase swinging by his side. ‘I need a bouquet. Can you deliver today?’
Ignoring his brusque manner, Evie wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Hello, Martin. How are you?’
‘What? Oh, fine. Sorry, I’m in a rush. I need flowers for Laura’s birthday.’
Evie raised an eyebrow. Leaving it a bit late, wasn’t he? Evie couldn’t imagine it would help their marital difficulties if he had forgotten her friend’s birthday. ‘Certainly. What did you have in mind?’
He pulled out his wallet from the inside pocket of his pristine blue suit. Evie glimpsed a Savile Row label. ‘I don’t care. I just need them delivered today, whatever it costs.’
She opened the order book. ‘Would you prefer a basket or a hand-tied bouquet?’
‘Whatever. Just charge the flowers.’ He handed her an Amex card.
‘The bouquets come at different prices.’ She took his credit card. ‘Twenty-five pounds, thirty, forty—’
‘How about a lovely tied bouquet of irises, the birth flower of February, combined with some beautiful violet primroses and mixed foliage.’ Laura loved purple flowers. Something Evie felt Martin should know.
‘Sounds great.’ He wasn’t really listening.
‘Would you like to write a card?’
He shook his head. ‘Do it for me, I need to go.’ Not exactly going all out, was he? No wonder Laura was getting increasingly depressed.
Whilst Evie ran the credit card through the till, she nodded towards the selection of gift cards displayed on the counter. ‘Would you care to choose a design?’
‘I’m not fussed. Just write, “Happy Birthday, Laura. Love, Martin.”’ He punched in his PIN and extracted a business card from his wallet. ‘She’s at work today, deliver the flowers there.’ He replaced his wallet and straightened his jacket. ‘Do you need anything else?’
‘No, I have everything I need.’ She handed him his receipt. ‘The flowers will be delivered this afternoon. I hope Laura enjoys them.’
‘I hope so too. I don’t fancy sleeping in the spare bed.’ Without a backwards glance, he was gone.
Evie shook her head. She’d become good friends with Laura since moving to Heatherton, but Martin remained a mystery. He worked long hours and didn’t socialise with them much, so it was difficult to know whether he really was a grump or just stressed about his job. Poor Laura. Not much of a birthday for her.
Evie turned to find her assistant looking smug. ‘You were right, boss. Flowers carry meaning, as in “I’m a complete git and I forgot your birthday, darling.”’ She clutched her chest, faking a swoon. ‘What a touching sentiment.’ She then proceeded to mime throwing up in a bucket, making the plumber laugh.
‘Thank you, Saffy. Very insightful. Have you finished cutting those stems?’
Her assistant begrudgingly picked up a pair of secateurs.