No Strings__ - By Janelle Denison Page 0,22
multiple braids entwined with colorful strips of fabric.
“We didn’t realize someone else was here,” Aiden said.
“I’m the greenhouse caretaker,” the other woman explained, spreading her arms wide to encompass the area, her voice filled with pride. “My name is Hattie, but here on the island, they call me the matchmaker.”
“To tie in to the theme here at the resort?” Chloe guessed, curious to know the woman’s angle.
Something mystical twinkled in the older woman’s eyes. “Some would say so, but while the resort has managed to find a way to modernize a love connection between two people, I still prefer to do things the old-fashioned way.”
Chloe wasn’t sure what the woman meant by that, but before she or Aiden could ask, Hattie spoke once again.
“It’s nice to have some visitors. With the resort offering so many activities, not many travel down this path to the greenhouse,” she said, her gaze seemingly scrutinizing the two of them with a discerning amount of insight. “Usually just the couples with a romantic soul.”
Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t want to offend the woman. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Hattie was feeding them a line, to make it seem as though the greenhouse possessed some sort of mysterious, enchanting properties. Then again, hadn’t Chloe just been mesmerized by that erotic flower she’d nearly touched?
Hattie glanced at the matching red bands on their wrists, a knowing smile curving the corner of her lips. “I love seeing when two people find their soul mate early on in the week.”
Realizing that the woman thought she and Aiden were a real couple, Chloe shook her head. “Oh, we’re not together that way,” she quickly clarified. “The bracelets are just a distraction. We’re one of the ad agencies here to work on a marketing campaign for the resort. This is just a pretense so we don’t have to mingle like everyone else.”
Hattie moved to a row of plants on a long table and tested the soil with her fingers before plucking away a few wilting leaves. “Trust me, the two of you were meant for one another.”
Hattie’s statement couldn’t have been further from the truth, but there was a calm certainty in her voice that made Chloe’s heart skip a weird beat.
Aiden shifted besides Chloe. “How do you know that the two of us are...uh, soul mates?” he asked.
Chloe frowned at him and his question. Had he really gotten sucked into the woman’s claim that she had the ability to predict a couple’s compatibility? The man was far more intelligent than that, but he appeared truly interested in the woman’s reply.
“The easiest answer is your pheromones,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t give away all my secrets, but I come from a very long line of matchmakers, and I’m rarely, if ever, wrong about my predictions.”
“So, when couples happen into your greenhouse, you can just sense their compatibility?” he asked, a skeptical note in his voice.
“Yes, I just know,” she said with the conviction of a woman who was confident in her abilities. “But everyone always seems to want some sort of tangible proof in order to believe my claim. This very unique hybrid flower, which is native to this island, provides that.” She indicated the bright pink flower that Chloe had nearly touched. “I call it the flower of love. I like to think it represents love and passion, because that’s the results it produces.”
“What does it do?” Chloe asked, curious despite her very practical nature.
Hattie smiled. “When a couple touches the stamen at the same time, it changes color. Sometimes it’s two different colors, which indicates incompatibility. But when the color is the same, well, that’s when the true magic of love happens. Would the two of you like to give it a try?”
Chloe’s heart was suddenly beating hard and fast in her chest, and she wasn’t sure why. She was torn between wanting to scoff at such nonsense, yet she was tempted to see how the whole color-change thing worked. And did she really want to know the results she and Aiden produced?
Aiden made the decision for them. “What the hell,” he said unexpectedly. “Let’s do it.”
Alrighty then. Chloe exhaled a deep breath, and reached toward the flower the same time that Aiden did. With her thumb and forefinger, she lightly grasped the stamen, right below where Aiden touched. Beneath the pad of their fingers, a deep, dark purple hue saturated the delicate stalk.
“Ahhh,” Hattie said, her voice infused with