Page 2 of Butterflies and Hazel Eyes
I took a breath and tugged open the door, yanking Mojo in behind me. The front reception area of Butterfly Junction was open and airy when I stepped inside. It reminded me of the great room of someone’s home rather than an office building. There was beautiful artwork of butterflies and other nature scenes adorning the walls, which fit the feel of the building well. The walls were done in a soft green while the floors were carpeted in a beige tweed that met vanilla-flecked tile near the reception area. The address may say industrial, but there was nothing industrial about it.
To the left of the reception desk was a closed mahogany door with a keypad on the wall, and to the right a hallway that had four identical wood doors, all closed. I stood in front of a desk that held a desktop computer, phone, and a nameplate that said,HONEY.Sitting in front of the computer was a large butterfly made of cloth. All the parts of the butterfly were labeled, which immediately drew me in for a closer look. I had to admit it was oddly fascinating. Unfortunately, the receptionist was missing from her desk. “Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out.
The closed door at the end of the hallway opened, and a woman scurried toward me. Her curly chestnut-brown hair flew around her with every step, and her giant brown eyes were the focal point of her face. She was gorgeous in a girl-next-door kind of way. Understated but stunning.
“Can I help you?” She pointed at Mojo as soon as she saw him. “Your dog can’t be in here.”
I glanced down at the beast and back to her. “I’m here to see Mr. Winsome,” I said, ignoring her dig at Mojo.
Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, you must be Charity Puck.”
“I am,” I agreed, a smile filling my face as the woman approached me and shook my hand. “I know you were expecting me two days ago, but the weather didn’t cooperate most of the way here from Tampa.”
She waved away the apology. “No worries. Mr. Winsome understood. I’m Honey, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Honey. You have a beautiful building, even if it is hard to find.”
Honey chuckled as if she’d heard that before. “That’s true, but I’m glad you found us.”
“I ran into Lucy on the sidewalk, and she pointed you out. I can’t take credit for the discovery.”
Honey put her hand to her chest. “I love Lucy. She and her husband own the diner, and they’re also my landlords. I live above the diner.”
“Wow,” I said, a grin on my lips. “I bet it’s a little like heaven and a little like hell living above a place like that.”
Her laughter filled the space, and with the vaulted ceilings, it traveled far and wide before it died off. “You’re not kidding, especially on broccoli day.” She waved her arm in front of her nose dramatically.
We laughed together before she motioned at the group of chairs in the corner by the window. “Have a seat, and I’ll see if Gulliver is finished with his conference call.”
“Thank you,” I said politely, leading Mojo to a small love seat in the corner. There were several long, rectangular windows facing the street that let in light. They were meticulously clean, as was the rest of the office, and the walls displayed framed photos of butterflies. There were butterflies of every shape and color that were taken by a talented, experienced photographer. Each butterfly had something about them that engaged you and drew you deeper into what the photographer was experiencing at the time of the shot. A blue butterfly caught in the middle of liftoff from a thistle. A monarch butterfly resting on the branch of a tree. A pink butterfly, its wings almost transparent, flitting amid a flower garden. I still didn’t know exactly what they did here at Butterfly Junction, but it definitely had something to do with butterflies. I chuckled to myself.You’re a seasoned detective, Charity. Keep up the hard work.
“Miss Puck, follow me,” Honey said.
“Just call me Charity, Honey,” I said, keeping Mojo tight to my leg. It was more like I held him tightly to my waist, considering our height discrepancies.
“Of course.” She smiled. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Honey motioned me through the office door and silently closed it behind me. A man sat behind an executive’s desk that was covered in papers, folders, and computers. He wore a button-down plaid shirt covered by a sweater sporting—what were those? Bees? Beetles? Dragonflies?
The man glanced down at his sweater and back to my face. “Grasshoppers.”
Grasshoppers. Noted.
First impression of Gulliver Winsome? He was all about his business. If the sweater wasn’t enough to tell me that, the collections of bugs, butterflies, and moths in display boxes scattered around the room were. The man himself? Gulliver Winsome was more than a little easy on the eyes. My gaze traveled across his broad chest and shoulders. Both made the sweater of grasshoppers stretch prominently with the strength and power of his physique. When his arm shot forward to shake my hand, his bicep flexed and I begged myself not to whimper. He might wear weird sweaters, but this man was built.
“You must be Charity.” The awkward smile on his face was something I was used to. I was never what people expected when they pictured a white hat hacker.
I dropped Mojo’s leash to the ground, and he lowered his butt to the floor as I shook the man’s hand. “I am, and you must be Gulliver Winsome.”
He released my hand and motioned at himself dramatically. “Indeed I am. The lucky guy who was saddled with the worst name in the history of the world.”
I laughed, his relaxed manner putting me at ease immediately. “Well, you know what they say. You win some. You lose some.”
Gulliver’s eyes smiled when he laughed. “Never was that joke delivered more perfectly. Have a seat,” he said, indicating the chair in front of his desk. The chair was an awkward height for my short frame, and I had to half jump and half wiggle onto it. Gulliver pointed at my companion. “What’s the dog’s name?”
“Mojo,” I answered immediately.
His eyebrow tugged up toward his hairline, and his delectable hazel eyes hit me like a shot to the solar plexus. I’d never seen eyes that color before, but they were a pair I could get lost in for hours. The color swirled from brown to gold and then settled on green for a hairbreadth before swirling into a green flecked with sparkles of gold. I’d traveled all fifty states and met people of all nationalities and never had a pair of eyes held me captive for so long. They were smoky while he assessed me assessing him. Oh, I could get lost in that pair of eyes for the rest of my life if I wasn’t careful.
