Four Weddings and a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) by Kristin Miller Page A

without being cramped, flowery without being overwhelming. Well, Veronica corrected, it wasn’t overwhelming for her, but she wasn’t the one with allergies.
    “Heather called, and said there was an issue with the Sanchez flowers?”
    Patsy leaned back against the counter. “It’s a simple problem with a simple solution. The bride wants flowering branches and narcissus, but we can’t get them. Well, we can, but the ones that show up are marginal at best and three times the price. I wouldn’t feel comfortable making an arrangement of such poor quality.”
    Logan sneezed and Veronica did a mental victory dance. Cha-cha-cha-sneeze.
    “That’s not going to work anyway,” Veronica said, making a note on her iPad. “Mr. Sanchez is on a tight budget. We’ve already asked him to bend in a few other places, and he’s adamant that the budget stay in place. Guess that’s what happens when you drop twenty grand on one night. He wouldn’t pay the hefty increase, even if his bride insisted on those flowers. Bless you, Logan.”
    “Oh, I’m sure.” He wiped his nose, and rubbed his eyes.
    “I told Heather that the bride will have to pick another flower for her bouquet and filler for her centerpieces,” Patsy said simply. “We’ve got leafy, bushy branches like ornamental pear or camellia to take the place of the flowering branches, and a wide variety to choose from in the bouquet department. I haven’t heard back from Heather on which adjustments to make. Would you like to see a book?”
    “I would, thanks.” Veronica’s face itched. She glanced at Logan. His nose had turned red from near-constant rubbing. The more he swiped his hand over his nose, the more hers itched. She scrunched her face, but didn’t touch it. “Let’s go with the leafy branches for the centerpieces. I think that’s the easiest call to make. I really don’t think she’s going to notice the difference.”
    The only reason Veronica knew the difference was because she’d seen Patsy do amazing flower arrangements with both varieties in the past. They were different, but beautiful in their own ways. The bridal bouquets, however, were entirely personal, and a decision that the bride would have to make herself. She would take notes and pictures, and narrow the options for the bride, then report back to Patsy by the end of the day.
    The florist disappeared into the stockroom and came back with a large three-ring binder full of flower choices separated by season. Veronica flipped to summer as Logan sneezed again. And again.
    “There are tissues on my desk,” Patsy said, her eyebrows pinching in concern. “Feel free to grab some if you need it.”
    “No. I’m good.” Logan sniffled. And stared out the window at the street. Was he looking for her stalker ? Leah and Jake were overreacting, Veronica was sure of it. As soon as she left here, she was calling her sister and finding out what the hell was going on.
    “Here.” Veronica pointed to a lovely bouquet tied off with a black satin ribbon. It was simple. Pink roses. White calla lilies. Deep-purple hydrangea. “This is pretty.”
    “I thought you’d like that. Your taste is classically elegant without a lot of fuss.” Patsy leaned close, and out of the corner of her eye, Veronica caught Logan’s gaze shifting to her. “But the bride insisted no hydrangea.”
    “How about daisies?”
    “She nixed those, too.”
    “Peonies?”
    Patsy folded her arms and shook her head. “This bride is very pleasant to work with.”
    “I’ll say.”
    Logan cleared his throat. “Maybe she’s waiting for something to strike her, some sort of meaning, like the bouquets that the Victorians used to make.”
    “Excuse me?” Veronica tried not to sound shocked that he’d spoken up.
    “Nineteenth-century Victorians used to choose herbs and flowers that spelled out the first letters of the groom’s name.” He leaned over the book, pointing to the flowers as he spoke. “In this case, for Paolo, use