by Lisa Moreau
Jordan could have cared less about raising money for a building she was about to destroy.
“Have you met Sophie yet?” Molly asked.
Before Jordan could respond, Bertha leaned across the bar and whispered, “Don’t look now, but she’s sitting in a booth in the corner waiting for a blind date.” Instinctively, Jordan started to turn her head. “No! Don’t look. She’d kill us for pointing her out.”
“Sophie is the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet. Her last relationship was a disaster, and it just crushed her,” Molly said. The three women frowned and shook their heads in unison. “She deserves someone who will treat her right. And we’re keeping our fingers crossed that this date will be the one.”
“Sweet as a peach,” Bertha said. “Remember that friend I was telling you about when you first arrived? Well, that was Sophie. It’d be so great if you could help her find her soul mate.”
A bell from the kitchen dinged, signaling Jordan’s order was up. Bertha grabbed the bag and placed it on the counter.
“No, no,” Bertha said, as Jordan reached for her wallet. “It’s on the house.”
“You can’t keep treating me. You have a business to run.”
Bertha smiled and placed a warm hand on Jordan’s arm. “Your money is no good here. But do think about the festival.”
As Jordan walked toward the door, she had an urgent desire to turn her head and see Sophie’s date, but she resisted. The thought of seeing Sophie flirting with some guy turned her stomach sour. She did feel bad about her last relationship being such a bomb. Jordan hated the thought of anyone hurting her. Maybe she’d get the scoop if they had a chance to actually talk about anything other than butterflies.
Jordan sat in her car, opened the bag, and inhaled the heavenly aroma. She should really wait until she got back to the condo to eat. How gluttonous was she? Obviously quite a bit since she ripped open the sandwich and took a generous bite.
“Mmmm…God, that’s good.” Jordan closed her eyes and moaned. She took another bite and wished she’d gotten something to drink. For a second she considered going back inside, but didn’t want to run into the lovebirds.
As Jordan took the last bite of her sandwich Sophie exited the coffee shop. Alone. Maybe the guy was a dud? Or maybe Sophie was waiting on him since she’d sat on a bench, which was directly in front of Jordan’s car. Jordan gave her a weak wave when their eyes met. They stared at each other until Jordan opened the car door. It seemed rude not to at least say hello.
“Care if I sit?” Jordan motioned toward the bench.
Sophie slid over, as far away from Jordan as possible.
“Sooo,” Jordan said, catching sideways glances of Sophie, who was staring straight ahead. “Nice day. Cooler than I’m used to. I wonder if it’ll rain much while I’m here. We haven’t had much rain in LA.” Seriously? You’re discussing the weather? “So, how was the date?”
Sophie’s head jerked toward Jordan. “I should have figured Bertha and the girls would fill you in.”
“All they said was that you had a blind date.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a date I wish I’d skipped.”
“Sorry about that.” Well, maybe not so sorry. “You know I own Soul Mate Outreach Solutions.”
Sophie looked directly at Jordan. “Yes. SOS. Just like my initials.”
Jordan swallowed hard and nodded. “So, if you’d like, I could help you out while I’m here. You know, take you on as a client. At no charge, of course. If you’d like.”
Jordan had no idea why she’d offered to find Mr. Right for Sophie. That would not be an enjoyable task. She’d never admit this to anyone, but she still had feelings for Sophie, as evidenced by the thumping of her heart, which sounded like an overzealous kid banging a bass drum. Jordan scooted a little farther away on the bench. If she could hear the pounding, surely Sophie could as well.
Sophie seemed to consider the idea and then shrugged. “How’d you end up in LA? I thought you were in New York.”
“I was. After I got my GED and took some business courses, Doug and I moved to Beverly Hills to start SOS.”
“Doug? Is that your boyfriend or husband?” Sophie shot Jordan a quick glance before staring straight ahead, stiff as a cardboard box.
Jordan chuckled. “No. He’s my best friend and business partner.”
“You never married?”
“No. You?”
Sophie shook her head. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself. I didn’t mean to put your company down yesterday. I’m sure you’re very successful.”
“You’ve done well, too. A master’s in wildlife biology. That’s impressive. When did you move back to Monarch?”
“About five years ago. Your grandmother offered me a job running the sanctuary. I’m not sure why she even opened it, but I’m glad she did. We’ve made great strides in monarch conservation.”
Jordan didn’t want to talk about butterflies. “How are your aunt and uncle?”
“They’re great. My uncle retired several years ago, and they travel all over. I bought their cabin.”
“That’s on the outskirts of the eucalyptus forest, isn’t it? Is it―”
“No,” Sophie said, reading her mind. “It’s not on the land you own.”
Thank God for that. At least she wouldn’t have to kick Sophie out of her house.
Sophie bolted to her feet. “I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” Jordan stood, not ready for their time together to end.
“That’s okay. By the way, I’ll be out of town tomorrow and Friday visiting schools to conduct monarch-conservation classes.”
Jordan suspected that Sophie’s trip wasn’t so much about teaching classes as getting away from her. “Can I do anything while you’re gone?”
“Don’t touch anything.”
Bertha walked out of the coffee shop, and they both turned toward the door. “I’m glad I caught you two. Sophie, maybe you can convince Jordan to be the festival guest of honor.”
Sophie looked at Jordan questioningly. “The girls asked that I be in the festival,” Jordan explained. “But I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Don’t bother, Bertha. She’ll never do it.” Sophie snickered and shook her head.
Jordan frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There’s no way in hell you’ll be the guest of honor at a small-town butterfly festival.”
Jordan threw her shoulders back and puffed out her chest. “Is that so?”
“I know you. You’ll never do it.” Sophie rolled her eyes.
Jordan glared at Sophie for several seconds before turning to Bertha. “I’d be happy to take part in the festival.”
Bertha clasped her hands and whooped loudly. Then she handed Jordan a flyer that read: Butterfly Daze. Featuring Jordan Lee, Renowned Beverly Hills Soul Mate Outreach Solutions Owner.
Jordan furrowed her brow. “That was fast. I just now accepted, and it’s already on a flyer?”
“We work quick around here.” Bertha winked at Sophie as they both grinned like the Cheshire cat.
“Wait a second. Why do I feel like I’ve just been duped?” Jordan asked. “Oh my God. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“You’ll have a wonderful time. I’ll fill you in on your duties later,” Bertha said as she disappeared into the cafe.
“Duties? What duties?”
“Don’t worry,” Sophie said. “Worst case, they’ll dress you up like a butterfly and prance you up and down Main Street.”
“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” She wouldn’t put it past these butterfly maniacs to do just that.
Chapter Nine
Home Alone
Jordan’s gaydar pinged wildly. She’d just arrived at the sanctuary when Mr. Simms and a woman walked in. The lady’s hair was pulled back tightly, she wore no makeup, and she looked like she’d just come from a golf tournament. She was attractive but could do with a little
eye shadow and lip gloss. In fact, she looked more masculine than Mr. Simms, which wasn’t saying much since he was a bit on the wimpy side.
“Ms. Lee, I’d like you to meet Nanci Roberts from Chrysalis Realtors.”
The woman strode forward with stilted movements that made Jordan wonder if she hadn’t put too much starch in her Dockers.
“That’s Nanci, with an i.” She spoke in a deep baritone and grasped Jordan’s hand so hard she almost heard a bone crack.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jordan…with an n. Chrysalis? Isn’t that the cocoon stage of the butterfly lifecycle?”
“I’m impressed. Are you a butterfly aficionado?”
“Not at all. In fact, I just learned that the other day.”
“And a good memory to boot. Color me captivated.”
Something about Nanci bugged Jordan. She couldn’t put her finger on it…until she smiled, and then there it was, that fake smirk she’d seen hundreds of times on Bibi. This woman belonged in Beverly Hills.
“I chose the name Chrysalis for my company because, like the cocoon,” Nanci said, holding her arms out in a wide circle, “I’m about helping people find their own residential nest.”
Seriously? Did she just say that?
Mr. Simms looked around nervously and whispered, “I understand Ms. Sanders is away on business. Is that correct?”
“Yeah. She’s visiting schools.”
“That’s good. I didn’t want to compromise your wishes.” Mr. Simms wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Ms. Lee would like to keep her plans to sell private for now.”
“Not a problem. I can be trusted.” Nanci smirked.
Jordan’s skin crawled. She wasn’t sure if that was because of the nervous lawyer or the creepy real-estate agent. Regardless, this was a small town so she’d have to work with what she had. Jordan led them to a flimsy card table, where they took a seat in folding chairs.
“Have you been in touch with your father?” Mr. Simms asked as he placed a worn black briefcase on the table.
“Not yet.” Jordan squirmed. She didn’t want to discuss her father. “Before we get started there’s something I need to make clear. I promised not to sell the land for the next two months.”
Mr. Simms’s thin eyebrow shot up. “You’ve changed your mind about selling?”
“No, no…not at all. I just can’t make any deals until after February first.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem since your grandmother’s estate will be in probate for at least that long.” Mr. Simms opened his briefcase and fumbled papers with his bony fingers. Several pieces escaped and floated to the floor. Nanci displayed another phony grin as he scrambled to recapture the documents.
“So how does all this work? What’s the big picture?” Excitement bubbled within Jordan. This was really happening. She was going to be rich and SOS would reap the benefits.
“I’ll issue a deed transferring ownership of the land and sanctuary to you after the estate is settled. You can sell after that time.”
“And that’s where I come in,” Nanci said. “I’m new to Monarch but have many years as a successful real-estate agent, I assure you.”
“How long have you lived here?” Jordan asked.
“About a month now. I understand that Kelstrom, who owns the Grand View Hotel and Spa, has made an offer.”
“Yes, but that was to my grandmother. Are they still interested in purchasing the land?”
“Very. We should have no problem striking a deal.”
“That’s great. Do you think they’ll cut down any trees?” Jordan hated the thought of her and Sophie’s tree getting chopped to pieces.
Nanci looked at Mr. Simms, who shrugged. “Well, most of the land contains overgrown weeds, so maybe some of the trees can be spared,” Nanci said.
“Actually, it’s milkweed,” Jordan said.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not weeds. It’s milkweed plants, which is what monarch caterpillars eat and lay their eggs on.”
“Why, you are a butterfly aficionado!” Nanci with an i’s overuse of the word “aficionado” annoyed Jordan.
“Here are some documents for you to look over,” Mr. Simms said. “Specifics about the land and sanctuary.” He handed Jordan a heap of disheveled papers. “Do you have any questions?”
Jordan thumbed through the stack. “Not right now, but I’m sure I’ll have a lot later. I just want to get through the next two months.”
“Understandable, Ms. Lee,” Mr. Simms said, as he closed his briefcase. “Well, we’ll be on our way. I just wanted to give you a quick overview and introduce you to Ms. Roberts.”
They all stood and walked to the front door.
“Just one more thing, Mr. Simms. Do you have any idea why my grandmother wanted me to work at the sanctuary? It’s one thing insisting that I live here to try to make amends with my father, but she didn’t seem to care about this place.”
Mr. Simms pursed his lips and thought for several long seconds. “I’m not completely sure. Your grandmother was an odd bird. She seemed…different the last several months of her life.”
“Different how?”
“Just…not herself.” Mr. Simms looked deep in thought, then shook his head vigorously, as though erasing an Etch-a-Sketch.
“Call me if you have any questions,” Nanci said. “I left my card on the table.”
Jordan winced when Nanci jabbed her on the arm. It was probably a move to indicate that they were beyond the hand-shaking stage and already buddies.
With Mr. Simms and Nanci out of the way, Jordan sat at Sophie’s desk and glanced around the sanctuary. It was empty and quiet. What was she going to do for the next two days alone? In fact, what was she going to do for two months? Jordan leaned back in the chair and sighed, reminding herself to be grateful. Anyone else in her position would be ecstatic to inherit valuable land. All she had to do was endure two months in butterfly hell. Well, that, and see her father again.
Jordan pushed the chair back forcefully and walked to the twin caterpillars. They were already changing colors, a hint of orange and black tinting their white bodies. They certainly didn’t stay caterpillars very long. Sophie had said they’d be cocoons in less than two weeks. It really was an amazing process, how something went from a miniature pearl egg to a caterpillar to a butterfly. It was like morphing from one creature to a completely different one, and one that could fly, no less. Jordan had a sudden urge to watch their birth again. She didn’t think Sophie would mind, so she powered up the computer and found the video.
After viewing it a couple of times, Jordan looked at her watch with a fright. It was only eleven a.m. This day was going to drag. She opened the Internet browser on Sophie’s computer, checked the weather, and then caught up on some LA news. When she couldn’t decide what else to surf, she clicked on Sophie’s favorites. There were lots of nature and butterfly sites and, surprisingly, Jordan’s company website, as well as the YouTube video of the Ophelia interview. Interesting.
Jordan stared into space for God knows how long before she realized she’d been twiddling her thumbs. Did people actually do that? The boredom must be getting to her. She’d never twiddled before in her life. Sophie had told her not to touch anything, but no way would she survive two days without touching something―anything.
*
It was around six p.m. Friday when Sophie rolled into town. She’d spent the last two days distributing milkweed seeds and teaching classes. The kids had seemed excited to learn about monarchs, which always made her happy. It’d been a successful trip, albeit a tiring one. She just wanted to go home, take a hot shower, and go to bed. And she would have, except that she wanted to check on the caterpillars and make sure Jordan had locked up for the weekend.
“What’s she still doing here?” Sophie grumbled when she saw Jordan’s Jaguar. Her stomach clenched with the uncertain fate of the sanctuary. Quickly, though, she squelched the fear and reminded herself to think positively
. She had two months to convince Jordan not to sell.
It took Sophie a moment to comprehend what she was seeing when she opened the door. The sanctuary looked completely different. It was…organized. She walked to the center of the room in a daze. Books, which had been scattered everywhere, now sat on a bookshelf―a bookshelf that hadn’t existed before. Butterfly nets hung from the ceiling, which freed up quite a bit of floor space, and mounds of milkweed seeds were separated and in labeled compartments. Sophie eyed the printed labels. Wow, they were even spelled correctly. Asclepias curassavica, Asclepias speciose. Amazing. As great as all that was, though, the best thing was that the hundred milkweed seed packets and planting directions were in addressed envelopes ready to be mailed. Sophie was speechless.
She looked at her computer desk and saw Jordan hunched over, asleep. How cute was that? She tiptoed, careful not to wake her with the creaking wood floors. Sophie gazed down at Jordan’s radiant, peaceful face and couldn’t deny the tender feelings that filled her heart. As much as she disliked that fact, she still cared deeply for Jordan. Life was terribly unfair sometimes. Her first, and greatest, love had disappeared before she was ready to admit her feelings, not that Jordan would have been receptive.
Carefully, Sophie moved a strand of hair out of Jordan’s eyes. Her fingertips itched with the desire to touch her: one caress of her velvet skin, one stroke of her lips, maybe even a kiss on her forehead. It might be her only opportunity to ever have physical contact. Instead, she lightly touched the ends of Jordan’s silky hair. It was best not to get too close, not to let Jordan into her heart again. In two months she’d be gone.
As Jordan stirred, Sophie stepped back quickly. With half-closed eyes, Jordan looked up and blinked several times before speaking, her voice husky and sexy as hell. “Did I die and go to heaven? You look like an angel.”
Not sure how to respond, Sophie just stared. After a few moments Jordan raised her head and looked around as though unaware of her surroundings. She sat up straight and shook her head a few times.