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       Praise for USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarella

      “Ferrarella delivers a fabulous couple. Wonderful storytelling expertly delivers both lighthearted and tragic story details.”

      —RT Book Reviews on Her Red-Carpet Romance

      “An easy-read modern romance with a creditable and self-possessed heroine to steal your heart.”

      —Fresh Fiction on Mendoza’s Secret Fortune

      “She has a genuine knack for keeping the reader interested and involved in the characters and their emotional feelings.”

      —Fresh Fiction on His Forever Valentine

      “Expert storytelling moves the book along at a steady pace. A solidly crafted plot makes it quite entertaining.”

      —RT Book Reviews on Cavanaugh Fortune

      “Master storyteller Ferrarella has a magical way of spinning feel-good romances that readers can lose themselves in, and her latest is no exception.”

      —RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy and the Lady

      Dr. Forget-Me-Not

      Marie Ferrarella

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author MARIE FERRARELLA has written more than two hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

      To

      Nancy Parodi Neubert,

      And

      Friendships

      That go back to the

      3rd Grade

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

       Prologue

      “You haven’t finally decided to sell that beautiful house of yours and downsize to something a little smaller and more modern, now have you?”

      It wasn’t really a question. Maizie Connors, sitting opposite the attractive woman in Jack’s Hideaway, Bedford’s newest trendy restaurant, knew better than to think that Charlotte, a woman she had known for close to forty years, would ever sell the house she loved so much. When she’d taken the unexpected call from her old friend that morning, Maizie had suspected something was up, but she’d instinctively known it had nothing to do with Charlotte making use of Maizie’s successful real estate business.

      “What?” Charlotte asked. Sitting ramrod straight, doing her best to appear cheerful, Charlotte Stewart was caught off guard by the question. She also felt somewhat embarrassed, not just because of the deception she’d allowed to continue, but because of the real reason for her getting in contact with Maizie in the first place. She cleared her throat and stalled for time. Trying to get her thoughts together in order to find the right words. So far, they had frustratingly managed to elude her. “Oh, no, I haven’t,” she confessed, then added in a sincere moment of truth, “I don’t think I’ll ever sell that house. It’s where all the good memories are.”

      Maizie smiled, nodding her head knowingly. Unlike Charlotte, who had gone stylishly gray, Maizie’s short bob was a light golden blond, the same color it had been when she’d first met her late husband all those years ago.

      “I didn’t think so. So, Charlotte,” she asked, getting comfortable, “what’s this lunch really about?”

      To be honest, Maizie was fairly certain she knew the answer to her question. As a successful Realtor, she had started her agency after her husband passed away years ago. It did a brisk business; but these days, she was just as accustomed to getting calls from people who sought her services for the business that she ran on the side as she was from people who wanted to either buy or sell houses.

      Maizie, along with her two lifelong best friends, had an aptitude for making matches.

      Lasting matches.

      When Charlotte called, asking to see her over lunch, the woman had murmured something about needing advice and alluded to it being about selling her house. Surprised—since Maizie knew how attached her friend was to the only place she had ever called home once Charlotte’s late husband had slipped a ring on her finger, Maizie had played along

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