by Lisa Moreau
“Yes, and you should schmooze the hell out of her so you can get on her talk show again.”
A very handsome man approached Doug from behind. “Why, I thought that was you.”
Doug practically squealed as they embraced. “You devil. How long has it been?” Doug asked.
“Too long! You look amazing.” The man was already tipsy, considering how he slurred and swayed.
The two men assessed each other appreciatively before Doug turned to Jordan. “Oh, I don’t think you’ve met. This is Branson. He’s a model slash actor with the Hughes Talent Agency.”
That explained the good looks. Jordan shook the guy’s hand before excusing herself. Doug was obviously smitten, and she didn’t want to get in the way. Normally, Jordan didn’t mind being at these soirees alone, but for some reason it was a little depressing that everyone was paired up except for her. She walked around the buffet table and surveyed the selection, settling on beluga caviar on crackers. She should probably talk to Ophelia, but she wasn’t in the mingling mood.
Jordan stared at an angel ice sculpture in the center of the food spread and wondered what Sophie was doing. Maybe she’d gone to Bertha’s, or maybe she was out with Nanci. She felt bad about leaving things on an awkward note and acting like a moron after they’d kissed. It had caught her off guard, and she hadn’t expected to like it so much. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever being so aroused by one kiss before. Maybe she should text her and try to make peace. It was Christmas, after all.
Jordan grabbed her cell phone and typed a message.
Merry almost Xmas. I hope you’re having a good Xmas Eve.
Sophie responded almost immediately. I am. How about you?
I’m stuck at a fancy party. Whatcha doing?
Watching It’s a Wonderful Life and drinking hot chocolate.
Wish I was there.
Jordan regretted typing that the moment she pressed send. And she really regretted it after the extremely long pause. Finally, her phone chimed.
Merry Christmas, Jordan.
Merry Christmas, Soph.
Jordan stuck the phone into her bag so she wouldn’t be tempted to keep texting, although she did glance at it every now and then to make sure Sophie hadn’t responded. She had to admit she was happy that Sophie wasn’t out with Nanci. But then again, she didn’t say she was alone. Maybe the real-estate maven was sitting beside Sophie drinking her special hot chocolate.
“Why, if it isn’t the butterfly queen.”
Oh my God. Jordan would know that fake French accent anywhere. She didn’t want to turn around, but it’d be rude not to. “Bibi, how are you?”
“I thought you were stuck in that godforsaken place until February. Did they let you out for good behavior?”
“Something like that.” Jordan turned to walk away but ran right into Ophelia.
“Jordan. I haven’t seen you in forever.” Ophelia kissed both of her cheeks.
“She’s been locked away in butterfly prison,” Bibi said with a snicker.
“I don’t believe we’ve met…although you do look familiar.” Ophelia extended her hand to Bibi.
“Bibi is the actress on the Leif instant-coffee commercials,” Jordan said.
“Oh yes, that’s it. Now what’s this about butterfly prison?” Ophelia looked back and forth between them. Before Jordan could respond, Bibi chimed in.
“Jordan inherited a monarch sanctuary and two acres of land along the central coast.”
Jordan shot Bibi a dirty look. She knew Jordan was private and wouldn’t want her personal business spread around town.
“You own a butterfly sanctuary? In the wilderness?” Ophelia giggled. What’s so funny? “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but I just can’t picture you traipsing through the forest in hiking boots and carrying a butterfly net.”
“It’s actually a beautiful place. And they’ve done a lot for monarch conservation,” Jordan said, feeling suddenly defensive.
“Surely you’re not keeping it? I have a real-estate agent you should get in touch with. Have you had the land appraised yet?”
“Well…yes.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense! What’s it worth?”
Most people would think that was an intrusive question, but they didn’t know Ophelia. She’d never dare ask anyone their age or how much they weighed, whereas wealth was not only discussed, but also flaunted at every opportunity.
Jordan looked at Bibi. “Would you excuse us for a minute? I’d like to speak with Ophelia in private.”
Bibi huffed and slithered away. Since the cat was out of the bag, she might as well tell all. It wasn’t like it’d ever get back to Sophie or anyone in Monarch. They were far removed from Hollywood. And besides, when the time came, Ophelia could help promote a new office.
“It’s two acres, worth two million dollars.”
Ophelia looked disappointed. It wasn’t a fortune to her, but it was to Jordan. “What are your plans? You are selling, aren’t you? What are you going to do with the money?”
“Actually, I have an offer from a hotel chain. Doug and I plan to open another SOS office in San Francisco.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Let me know when you do, and I’ll do another story on your company.”
That’s what Jordan was hoping for. “That’d be terrific. Thanks so much.”
“Listen. I did want to ask you a favor. I’m the head of the BPU Charity and was wondering if SOS would like to participate in a silent auction we’re having in a few weeks.”
“Of course. Count me in. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in Monarch until February, but I’m sure Doug would love to represent us. What’s…um…BPU?” Jordan hated asking, since it was something she should probably already know.
“It’s the Bra, Panty, and Underwear Charity, you silly.” Ophelia playfully slapped her arm.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it before. It’s where celebrities donate unmentionables to be auctioned off for philanthropic causes.”
“Oh. Seriously?”
“Honey, many people would pay a healthy sum of money to hold a pair of panties worn by yours truly.”
Ew. This was the weirdest thing she’d ever heard, but Jordan didn’t say that. Instead, she nodded and smiled. “So, did you want something of mine? Or a monetary donation, which we’d be happy to do.”
“Both would be much appreciated. You could give something to Douglas, and he can drop it off later.”
“Sure, but I doubt my undies would bring in as much as yours.” Ophelia laughed, but Jordan could see in her eyes that she agreed. “What sort of causes does the charity support?”
“All sorts of things, such as the homeless, animal rights, save the whales, whatever the board decides.”
“Do you ever take suggestions? I mean, if someone had an idea of a group to support?”
“All the time. If you have something in mind just let me know, and I’m sure I can get it approved.”
After chatting with a few more people, Jordan found Doug huddled with Branson in a corner. He didn’t look anywhere near ready to leave, so she feigned a headache and called a cab. Jordan held her hand to her forehead as she waited for her ride. Maybe she was coming down with the flu. She’d never left a party early before in her life.
*
“When are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Jordan turned from gazing out of her office window to see Doug standing in the doorway. She sat at her desk and looked at the computer screen, pretending to read an email. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He walked into the office and sat in a chair across from her desk. “You’ve been moping around here for almost a week. Aren’t you happy to be back?”
“Of course.” Jordan reclined and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s just that today is New Year’s Eve. You know, the tenth anniversary. And before you ask, no. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Doug he
ld up his hands in defense. “All right. So, did you get a chance to talk to Ophelia at the Christmas Eve party the other night?”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Jordan opened her desk drawer, took out two bras, and tossed them at Doug. They hit him in the face and landed in his lap. He stared at the undies before looking at her, definitely perplexed.
“Is this a subtle way of telling me I should be a cross-dresser?”
“You would make an attractive woman, but no. They’re for Ophelia’s BPU Charity.”
“Oh, the Bra, Panty, and Underwear auction.”
“You know about this? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“You need to get out more, my dear.”
“Well, I told her we’d help out and make a donation as well, so cut a check for whatever we can afford. The more the better. Ophelia is an excellent contact. She can really help us promote SOS, especially after we expand.”
Doug examined one of the bras and arched an eyebrow. “D cup?”
“I bought those at Victoria’s Secret. I wasn’t going to give them one of mine. That’s just…creepy.”
Tiffany walked into Jordan’s office, leaned against the door frame, and sighed dramatically. She was darning her customary black-leather outfit, but a blue streak had replaced the red one in her hair.
“Do you need something?” Jordan asked.
“We’re out of staples.” Tiffany hung her head in seeming despair.
“Maybe you could…I dunno…order some? Crazy idea, but might just work.”
“Well, I can’t finish the paperwork without staples.”
Doug turned in his chair. “Paper clips should work fine, Tiff.”
Tiffany paused and stared at the ceiling. “There was some other reason I came in here.” She shrugged and shuffled away.
Jordan leaned across the desk and whispered, “What’s up with her? She’s more scatterbrained than usual.”
“She and her boyfriend broke up. Right after she got his name tattooed across her chest, so not good timing.”
“You’re a softie. You were supposed to fire her.”
Tiffany popped her head into the office. “Oh. I remember what I was going to say. You have a call on line one. It’s your dad.”
Jordan stared, dumbfounded. “Did you say…my dad?”
Tiffany nodded before disappearing. Jordan stared at the phone like it was a hissing cobra ready to strike.
“Did I miss something? Are you and your father buddies now?”
“Not even close. I wonder what he wants?”
“Only one way to find out.” Doug pointed at the phone.
Jordan took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Jordan, this is your father.” His tone was stern and to the point.
“Is…everything okay?”
“Yes, yes. I spoke to your mother over Christmas.”
“Mom? I didn’t realize you two kept in touch.”
“We do on occasion. She suggested I invite you over for dinner.” Jordan was silent, not sure what to say or think. “So, Rebecca and I would like to ask you to join us when you’re back in town.”
“Um…sure, yeah, thanks. Uh…what works for you guys?” Jordan looked at Doug and shrugged.
“Are you free this Saturday? Say seven p.m., our house?”
“That’s fine.”
“See you then.”
Jordan slowly hung up the phone. “That was weird. He invited me to dinner. And said my mom was the one that suggested it.”
“Your mom?”
“Yeah. Well, that’s at least one less thing I have to worry about. This will be our second meeting, which takes care of that part of Grandma’s stipulations.”
The computer chimed, indicating an incoming email. Jordan glanced at the screen, surprised that it was from Bertha. She opened the message.
Jordan, can you believe Sophie gave me a computer for Christmas? It must have cost her a fortune! I can’t believe I can type a letter and not even have to use a stamp to send it. Let me know if you get this. You’re my first email. We miss you around here. Sophie hasn’t stopped talking about you since you left. Love, Bertha
Jordan couldn’t stop grinning. It was great to hear from Bertha and even better to hear that Sophie had been talking about her. She quickly typed a message back.
Bertha, email received. I hope you had a good Christmas. Tell everyone I said hi.—Jordan.
“Who was that from? I haven’t seen you smile that big since…well, ever.”
“It was from Bertha, the woman who owns the coffee shop in Monarch. She’s technologically challenged so it’s hilarious that she sent an email.”
“It certainly seemed to lift your spirits. You never did tell me what happened with Sophie. Did you ever tell her you’re a lesbian?”
Jordan groaned. “That’s a long story, but yes, she knows. We did…sort of…kiss.”
“And you didn’t tell me!?” Doug sat forward in his chair. “Are you together?”
“No, it was just a kiss…and then…that was it. Actually, I was an idiot.” Jordan pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I freaked and pushed her away but didn’t explain why, and then we didn’t talk about it, and I practically shoved her into Nanci’s arms, and then I got the hell out of there as fast as I could, and―”
Doug held up his hands. “Whoa, that’s a lot of info to take in all at once. Okay. Why’d you freak?”
“It’s not like we can date or be together. We have different lives, and I’m about to make the thousands of butterflies she loves homeless and put her out of a job.”
“Did you tell her any of that? Did you explain? Maybe you two can talk things out.”
Jordan stared at Doug. “What’s there to talk about?”
Doug rolled his eyes and grunted loudly. “You know I love you, right? But you’re sooo frustrating sometimes. This is what you do. You close down and run away. It’s the same thing you did to her ten years ago.”
“What?! That was totally different.”
“No, it isn’t. You left without telling her what you were thinking and feeling. You’re going to fuck this up before it even gets started. Just talk to her. Give it a chance.”
God, was she really doing the same thing? Making the same mistakes? Had she not matured in a decade?
“Tell me how you feel about Sophie, minus all the so-called challenges.”
Jordan grinned and responded immediately. “She’s amazing. She’s sweet, caring, sensitive. She’s the most authentic person I’ve ever met. There’s just something about her. I want to be around her all the time, and when I’m not, it just sucks. She makes me happy.”
“In all the time I’ve known you I’ve never heard you talk about anyone that way. Are you in love with her?” Doug asked tentatively, probably afraid Jordan would bolt out the door at the mention of the word “love.”
Jordan stood and gazed out of the window. “Honestly? I think you should ask if I’ve ever stopped loving her.”
Doug bolted out of his chair and embraced Jordan. “I’m so happy for you!”
She was touched to see tears in his eyes. He was a sweetheart who wanted nothing more than her happiness.
Jordan pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re right. I should talk to Sophie. I’m going back. Today,” Jordan said with conviction.
“But I thought you were going with me and Branson to the party. It’s New Year’s Eve.”
“I know. And that’s exactly why I need to be in Monarch tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Shake, Rattle ’n’ Roll
When Jordan had driven to Monarch a month ago, she’d purposefully gone slower than an Amish buggy, but now she couldn’t get there fast enough. She wasn’t sure what time Bertha’s New Year’s Eve party started, but she wanted to catch Sophie before she left so they’d have time alone to chat. She had no idea what she’d say. Doug had said to talk about her feelings and fears, which was easier said than done. What if the
y dated and it didn’t work out? Relationships weren’t exactly her strong point. Jordan didn’t think she could survive losing Sophie again. At least now they were friends. Her resolve was melting with each mile.
It was six p.m. when Jordan pulled up to Sophie’s cabin. She sat in her car for a few minutes and tried to calm her nerves with slow, deep breaths. When that didn’t work she opened the door and walked to the porch, her intestines twisted in knots. Why was she so nervous? The toughest newscasters in Hollywood had interviewed her. She was a strong, confident businesswoman. Why did the thought of having one conversation freak her out so much? Well, probably because this was the first time her heart had been invested in the outcome. It was so much easier to have the talk with a woman she didn’t love. Yes, Jordan was certain she was in love with Sophie, not that she’d blurt that out anytime soon.
Jordan pressed the doorbell and waited. When there was no answer, she pressed it again. The place looked dark and deserted, so she walked around the side of the cabin and saw that Sophie’s Jeep was gone. All that worrying for nothing. She probably wouldn’t even get a chance to talk to her alone tonight. Jordan got back in her car and headed for Bertha’s.
“Jordan!” everyone yelled as she entered the coffee shop. The place was packed and noisy. People were chatting, laughing, and playing board games.
“Welcome to almost 2010,” Molly said as she stuck a party hat on Jordan’s head and hugged her.
Bertha grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd, with Molly following close behind. “You have to try a piece of my chocolate-fudge earthquake cake,” Bertha said. She cut a big glob and handed it to Jordan. “We’re so glad you made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss your party.” Jordan took a bite and nearly melted on the spot. She gobbled it down, not realizing how hungry she was. “That was divine,” she said, which elicited a satisfied smile from Bertha.
Mabel approached Jordan from behind and handed her a cup of red punch. As Jordan looked at the three women, she couldn’t help but grin. To her surprise, she’d missed them. “So which one of these lucky guys will you be kissing at midnight, huh?”