Butterfly by Nelle L’Amour

CHAPTER 33

Sofi

“Where’s Roman?” I ask Madame DuBois, who’s busy supervising her team. She looks tired and now I’m sorry I didn’t bring her and all the overworked Romanoffs coffees from the little café around the corner. The takeout line was insane. I could have fallen asleep waiting to order two lattes to go.

A sewing needle in her hand, Roman’s beloved chief of staff looks up at me as I yawn. “My chérie, he’s still upstairs . . . in his study. It’s unlikely he’ll make an appearance today.” What happened last night has remained unspoken between us. But the bond it’s created is palpable. And unbreakable.

I haven’t stopped thinking about last night. I hardly slept. Poor tortured Roman! He exposed a side of himself that few should ever see. Now, I have to face him again. Anxiety washes over me, wondering what to say to him. And wondering what he’ll say to me. He could have asked Madame DuBois or any of the Romanoffs to go out and get him coffee, but he specifically asked me. So maybe he wants to talk about it.

Madame DuBois returns to stitching the antennae of a butterfly I painted using real gold thread as I head to the elevator, carrying the two large lattes in a cardboard tray. She calls out to me midway.

“Sofi, dear, the elevator is not working. Someone is coming to service it tomorrow.”

The old elevator has been on the brink since I started working for Roman. I’ll have to use the stairs. Thanking Madame DuBois for letting me know, I amble to the back of the studio.

Balancing the tray of hot coffees with both hands given the spaz I am, I mount the steep steps, slowly and carefully, my eyes cast down so I don’t miss one. Halfway up, a sharp clickety-clack distracts me and I look up. Tearing down the stairs in her stilettos is Kendra, looking totally disheveled. Her glassy eyes flare with fury and her cheeks are blazing. What’s more, her blouse is totally undone as is her lace bra, exposing her melon-size breasts. My heart clenches in my chest. Did Roman have sex with her?

For a brief second, her flaring eyes meet mine and fire me daggers. Without slowing down, she meets me.

“You’re in my way, bitch!” she spits out as I stand frozen with shock. I don’t move. On my next blink, she slams into me, and the next thing I know, I’m tumbling down the stairs, one hard step after another. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! The tray goes flying and the cups spill open, the blistering hot liquid trailing me. Wordless groans escape my throat as I futilely try to break my fall. Cursing under her breath, Kendra skirts past me, the clickety-clack of her heels echoing in my ears as every fiber of my being cries out in pain. It feels like a bone-crushing eternity until I hit rock bottom, landing flat on my back and hard on my head. An agonized moan spills out of my mouth as stars dance behind the seams of my eyes. I want to get up and scream out for help, but my brain won’t communicate with my limbs or my larynx. It’s as if my head and my body have been trapped in a vise. The invigorating smell of the caffeine wafts up my nostrils, but even that doesn’t pull me out of my stupor.

Dazed and disoriented, I hear Madame DuBois scream, “Mon Dieu!” On my next labored breath, she’s squatting next to me, holding my limp hand while rapid, heavy footsteps thud in my ears. Everything’s a blur.

“Jesus!” It’s Roman, crouched down beside me. Panic fills his voice. “Sofi, it’s me! Can you hear me?”

All I can do is let out another moan. This one so soft, so muted I can barely hear myself. My body, in contrast, roars with excruciating pain.

“Madame DuBois, call 911!” Roman shouts. His stalwart chief of staff dashes off while Roman cradles my head and tenderly strokes my hair. “Sofi, stay with us. Look at me! Say something! Please!” The tone of his voice has gone from panicked to desperate. “Butterfly, please!”

I try to say his name, but my mouth, like the rest of me, is paralyzed. I have a moment of inner panic thinking I may be paralyzed for life, that is, if I survive this fall, until a searing tear falls on my cheek, instilling me with feeling and hope.

“Ro—” I manage, but his name dies on my lips. My eyelids close and the world goes black.