The Butterfly Whisperer

by Lisa Moreau

  When Jordan arrived at the sanctuary, she parked next to Sophie’s Jeep and gazed at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked sleepy but not too bad, considering it was a God-awful eight a.m. Sophie had said she usually got in at seven, and even though Jordan was the boss, she didn’t want to look like a slacker.

  Popping open the glove compartment, she rummaged for a tube of red lipstick. She snapped off the cap, smeared the tip over her lips, and looked in the mirror to check out the results. I look like a tired hooker. Frantically, she searched for a napkin, map, anything she could use to wipe some of the stuff off. Mentally, she thanked Bertha when she found the directions to the condo she’d written on a napkin. Jordan blotted her lips and combed fingers through her hair. She wasn’t sure why she bothered to fix herself. It wasn’t like Sophie cared how she looked.

  When Jordan entered the sanctuary, Sophie was standing behind a long table spreading seeds on a wet paper towel, which was rolled and placed inside a plastic bag.

  “What’s that?” Jordan asked.

  “Asclepias cordifolia.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Heartleaf milkweed seeds.” Sophie wrote the date on the bag and stuck it in a small refrigerator.

  “I’m assuming that’s not a snack for later?”

  Sophie glared at Jordan, expressionless, and continued rolling seeds in paper towels.

  “Why do you put them in the fridge?”

  “They have to be refrigerated for ten to twelve weeks. Before we plant the seeds, we soak them in warm water for twenty-four hours.” Sophie continued working as she spoke, avoiding eye contact.

  Jordan walked to a side table stacked with packets of seeds, mailing labels, envelopes, and flyers.

  “What’s all this for?” Jordan asked.

  “That’s Asclepias eriocarpa. Woolly pod milkweed seeds.”

  “Are you going to roll them like a joint, too?” Sophie shot her a nasty glare. Obviously, seeds were nothing to joke about. “I’m bugging you, aren’t I?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just not used to company.” Sophie looked at Jordan, her eyes quickly moving up and down her body.

  “And I’m probably the last person you ever expected to see here.”

  Sophie visibly tensed. “Well, you are the boss, so I guess I should give you a tour.” Sophie stepped from behind the table and stood by Jordan. She looked adorable in faded jeans, hiking boots, and a fitted purple T-shirt. Jordan caught a whiff of the sweet scent of yellow buttercup roses. Geez, she even smells like a Disney Princess.

  “This is for a mass mailing to schools up and down the coast,” Sophie said as she motioned to the items. “The flyer encourages kids to plant milkweed. Like I said before, without it the monarchs would die off, which is exactly what’s happening with companies destroying milkweed fields to build condos, malls, and hotels.” Sophie peered directly at Jordan. “That’s why you can’t sell the land.”

  “Can’t? You’re forbidding me?” Jordan suddenly felt five years old and resisted the urge to stomp her feet. “We’re talking about a lot of money. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’m greedy―”

  “Oh?” Sophie raised an eyebrow. “I saw the car you drive. It must have cost you at least fifty grand.”

  “Now you’re just being judgmental. I’ve worked tirelessly to build my company from scratch. If I can afford to buy a few luxuries, then so be it.” Jordan gritted her teeth.

  “Well, I’ve worked tirelessly to save the butterflies.”

  “What makes you think that’s more important than my company?”

  Sophie laughed. Not a nice ha-ha laugh, but one of those you-must-be-kidding laughs. “You’re seriously comparing nature conservation to a company in a high-rise on Rodeo Drive?!”

  How’d she know we’re on Rodeo Drive? “We’re not in a high-rise. We’re on the fourth floor, Ms. Smarty-Pants!” Jordan inwardly groaned. She couldn’t come up with a better comeback than smarty-pants?

  “You’re incorrigible! Money is more important to you than wildlife.” Passion burned in Sophie’s eyes. Even though she was being close-minded and difficult, Jordan couldn’t help but be a little turned on by angry Sophie. She looked downright sexy all flush-faced and chest-heaving. Jordan blinked a few times and averted her eyes. It was easier to think clearly when she wasn’t looking directly at sexy Sophie.

  “I’ll have you know I make a donation every year to the California National Wildlife Association, and I volunteer at the Los Angeles Zoo. You don’t know anything about me. You haven’t even seen me in ten years.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Sophie crossed her arms and tapped her foot wildly.

  Jordan paused, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Look, we’re getting nowhere here. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me for two months. It’s going to be hell for both of us if we don’t reach some sort of agreement.”

  Sophie leered at Jordan, her jaw muscles visibly tensing. After a few moments, she pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling long enough for Jordan to glance upward to see what she was observing. Finally, Sophie looked at Jordan and said, “I know it’s not my place to order you around.”

  “Really? Because you could’ve fooled me.”

  Sophie clenched her fists and looked like she was about to deck Jordan, but then obviously changed her mind. Instead, she stared at the space above Jordan’s head as though to avoid eye contact. “Can you find it in your heart to do me one favor?”

  Jordan cocked her head. “Maybe. What is it?”

  “Promise me you won’t sell before February. That’s all I ask. Just give me two months to show you how important my work here is. Please?”

  In a matter of seconds, angry Sophie had morphed into someone who looked terribly vulnerable and afraid. Her body relaxed, her expression softened, and her beautiful blue eyes were practically pleading. Jordan had to struggle not to wrap Sophie in her arms. Maybe it wouldn’t kill her to wait two months. She’d be rich soon enough.

  “All right,” she said. “But in return you have to promise to spare me any more save-the-butterfly speeches. And no more dictating what I can do with my property. Do we have a deal?”

  Jordan extended her hand to Sophie, who stared at it for several seconds, seemingly mulling over the proposition. Finally, she nodded and slipped her hand into Jordan’s. It was the first time they’d touched since seeing each other again. Jordan loved the feel of Sophie’s hand, so soft and delicate. No wonder butterflies landed in her palm. When their eyes met, Jordan’s heart pounded. She was well aware that several seconds had passed and neither was letting go. They had long since stopped shaking and were now basically just holding hands, which was fine with Jordan. She could have stood there all day. When Sophie’s eyes dropped to their clasped hands, she abruptly pulled back like she’d touched a snapping turtle.

  Sophie glanced at Jordan before averting her eyes to the floor. “So, uh…I believe I was giving you a tour.” Sophie walked to a shelf that held two clear containers.

  Jordan followed and peered into the cups. “Are those caterpillars? They’re so tiny. Why are they white?”

  “They hatched a couple of days ago. They’ll grow fast and change colors.”

  “Are they alive? They aren’t moving.” Jordan poked one of the cups as Sophie slapped her hand away.

  “Don’t touch!…Please. They shouldn’t be moved. Yes, they’re alive. In two weeks they’ll evolve from larva to chrysalis.”

  “What to what?”

  “Larva is the caterpillar stage, and chrysalis is when they form a cocoon. What’s so special about these two is that they were born at exactly the same time.”

  “Like twins,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah. Exactly.” Sophie’s eyes twinkled as a slow smile crept across her lips. Jordan hadn’t realized until that moment how much she’d missed that smile. “I filmed their birth. Would you like to watch it? I can play it on my computer.”

  “Su
re, why not?” Watching the birth of anything wasn’t on the top of Jordan’s bucket list, but considering it was caterpillars, it couldn’t have been too much of a bloody mess.

  Jordan sat at the desk as Sophie clicked through hundreds of video files. Finding one entitled “twin birth,” she pressed play and stood behind Jordan as they watched. Even Jordan had to admit it was an amazing sight. She couldn’t believe how those long caterpillars were crammed into that tiny egg. It took them at least five minutes to wiggle out. Once they did, it was pretty cute when they elongated their bodies and twisted their heads around like they were checking out their new home. And, best of all, there wasn’t one drop of blood in sight.

  “That was incredible,” Jordan said when the video ended.

  “Did you really think so?” There was that beautiful smile again.

  “Totally. I just wish I could have seen it in person, Soph.” Jordan wasn’t sure if it was the use of her shortened name, but Sophie’s smile dropped and her expression hardened. She turned off the computer, walked in front of the desk, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Why didn’t you have contact with me? We were best friends. How could you leave so abruptly and stay away for ten years?” Sophie’s voice was strained and she looked near tears.

  Jordan wanted to puke. She knew this conversation would happen sooner or later, but she’d hoped it’d be later. “I’m so, so sorry. I was young and stupid. I felt hurt and abandoned by my father. I wanted to get away from everything.”

  “From me, too? I don’t understand.”

  I was so in love with you I couldn’t see straight. I thought you’d be disgusted. I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating me. And I couldn’t be near you one more moment without kissing you. You weren’t just a friend to me.

  But Jordan didn’t say any of that. She couldn’t.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sophie. And then so much time passed that I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear from me again.”

  “But I contacted you several times a few years ago, and you never responded.”

  Jordan frowned. “What? Where?”

  “At your office. When I found out about your company, I called and left several messages with your receptionist.”

  “Tiffany,” Jordan whispered and closed her eyes. “Tiffany is the most inept receptionist in the universe. I never received your messages. I would have called you back.”

  Sophie paused, as though considering the validity of the information. “I never would have done that to you. Never.” She spun around and walked out the sanctuary.

  Jordan’s heart ached. She hated that she’d hurt Sophie, and it was obviously a hurt that still lingered even after all these years.

  Chapter Eight

  Blind Date

  They didn’t make napkins like they used to. Sophie had easily torn three into shreds within five minutes. She glanced around Bertha’s Coffee Shop from her booth, searching for a place to discard the pile of shavings. She didn’t want her Internet date to know how nervous she was. Gathering a handful of tattered napkins, she briefly thought about stuffing them in her bra. Kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of the evidence while enhancing her assets, but that would be deceiving, and Sophie was all about honesty. Especially after Cindy.

  Sophie tensed as the front-door wind chimes jingled. She clutched the napkin tight in her fist, letting her eyes dart to the entering figure. Phew, it was just Molly and Mabel. They were probably here for lunch or, more likely, to check out Sophie’s blind date. Why she’d picked Bertha’s she’d never know. She loved the townspeople, but they were nosy as hell. Molly gave Sophie two thumbs up from the counter, as Bertha beamed behind her. Sophie wished she could be as confident as they were. Having a blind date was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had to at least take the first step in meeting someone if she wanted to find her soul mate.

  Sophie looked at her watch. Ten minutes late. Well, she’d cut the woman some slack. She was driving from Tallon, which was forty miles away. Sophie had offered to drive there, but the woman had insisted on meeting in Monarch, which immediately raised suspicions. Did she not want to be seen in her own town? Did she have a girlfriend or was she a curious straight woman? Red flag number one.

  Sophie held her breath as the door opened. It wasn’t her date. It was Jordan. She slipped low into the booth, not wanting to be seen. She’d told Jordan she was working offsite, whatever that meant. Actually, she was shell-shocked about seeing her again and wanted a day to get her head on straight. Jordan walked to the counter and sat on a barstool beside the twins. Sophie let her gaze travel down Jordan’s body. She wore a white button-up shirt tucked into well-worn jeans, which hung just below the waist and had strategically placed rips in the right thigh, showing hints of creamy skin. They were the kind of tattered jeans found in an expensive shop on Rodeo Drive as opposed to a Monarch thrift store. The woman could pull off casual and classy all in one blow.

  As Jordan and Bertha chatted, Molly crossed her fingers and shook both hands in the air. Sophie had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about her. She hunkered down farther in the seat. It’d be just like them to point her out. Instead, Bertha handed Jordan a bag, and she was out the door without even a glance, Sophie surprisingly disappointed to see her go.

  “Excuse me, are you Sophie?” A woman standing beside the booth looked vaguely like her date’s photo, except a much older version, by at least twenty years. Had she posted her junior high school picture? Red flag number two.

  “Yes. Are you…” Sophie blanked. What was the woman’s name? It started with a C and was sorta long.

  “Candace. But my friends call me Candy.”

  Wait…wasn’t her last name Kane? Candy Kane? Seriously? Sophie stood and held out her hand, not realizing she still clutched the shredded napkin in her fist, which she shoved into her pocket.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Candace.” Sophie refused to call her Candy.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Candace said, as they both slid into the booth. “Traffic was really backed up.”

  Really? Traffic from Tallon to Monarch was never backed up.

  “No problem. Have you eaten? Bertha makes the best Italian subs around.”

  “Actually, just coffee for me.”

  Sophie motioned to Bertha, who was standing beside their booth in record time with a pad and pen.

  “What can I get for you two gals?” Bertha asked cheerfully.

  “Just two coffees, thanks,” Sophie said.

  “Coming right up.” Bertha winked at Sophie. Was that supposed to mean she approved of her date? Obviously, she didn’t know the woman already had two strikes against her.

  “So, Candace―” A hand in midair interrupted.

  “Candy. All my friends call me Candy.”

  “So…uh…what did you say you do for a living?”

  “I’m a landscaper. Most of my clients are individuals, but I do have some businesses as well.”

  “Thanks, Bertha,” Sophie said, as two steaming cups were placed on the table.

  “I love being in nature and getting my hands dirty,” Candace said. “There’s no way I could be cooped up in an office all day.”

  Sophie could relate. She liked nothing better than being in the eucalyptus grove with the butterflies. Maybe Candace wasn’t so bad after all. And she did have gorgeous green eyes.

  “I just have to say, you are one beautiful woman, Sophie.”

  “Oh, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” Yes, Candace had potential. “If we’re giving out compliments, you have the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  Candace leaned across the table and whispered, “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

  “What’s that?” Sophie leaned closer, matching her whisper. She flinched as Candace poked herself in the eye, pinched out a contact lens, and balanced it on the tip of her finger.

  “Chroma contacts.”

  “Oh, my. Chroma what?” Sophie drew her head bac
k. Candace looked freakish with one brown eye and one green.

  “Colored contact lenses. They change your eye color. Actually, I figured you wore them, too. Your eyes are so blue. Is that your natural color?”

  “Of course!” How insulting. She’d never be that deceiving.

  Red flag number three. Good-bye, Candy Kane.

  *

  Jordan really needed to learn how to cook. But then again, it was a great excuse to get an Italian sub at Bertha’s. It was possibly the best sandwich she’d ever eaten. The crisp bread was fried in butter and olive oil and filled with grilled onions, salami, prosciutto, melted provolone cheese, and various spices she couldn’t identify.

  “Ms. Lee…I mean, Jordan, it’s so nice to see you again.” Bertha wiped her hands on a butterfly-print apron.

  “You as well. I’m here to pick up my order.”

  “That’ll be ready in two shakes of a butterfly’s wings.”

  Jordan wasn’t sure if that meant soon or if it’d be a while. She sat on a barstool and nodded to Molly and Mabel, who were seated beside her.

  “Go on. Ask her,” Molly said as she nudged Mabel.

  Jordan looked back and forth between the twins. “Ask me what?”

  “Well, I’m the Monarch festival president and…well…we wondered if you’d be the festival’s guest of honor.”

  Molly swiveled on her stool to face Jordan. “It’s this Saturday. It would be such an honor to have a celebrity there.”

  Think fast. Say something to get out of this butterfly soiree. “I…uh…I appreciate the invitation, ladies. Really. But I’m hardly a celebrity, and I have some family business to attend to so I’m not sure I’ll have time.”

  “You are so a celebrity. You’ve been on Ophelia,” Mabel said. “You wouldn’t have to do much. Just ride in the parade, judge the Tiny Tot King and Queen Pageant, and maybe call out a few numbers during butterfly bingo.”

  Bertha nodded vigorously. “And it’s for a good cause. We’ll be raising money for the sanctuary. Well, actually, your sanctuary now.”