by JM Dragon
†
“So, Quinn, what are you doing in town?” Charlie rested his back against the wooden wall.
“Business with Desrosiers. We have had some delivery problems. Should be on my way by midafternoon tomorrow.”
“Desrosiers, huh. I work there.”
“Who doesn’t?” Quinn shook her head and sighed. “Are you going to get up and walk out on me too?” The words drifted heavily in the air and Charlie shook his head.
“Nope. Hell, I’m currently a janitor, pays the bills.”
“I don’t get it…you are one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. How come?” Quinn’s eyebrows rose as she stared at him.
Charlie reached for his half empty beer and drank a mouthful before answering. “Just because I’m a good quizzer doesn’t mean that I’m that intelligent. I might just be good at remembering facts.”
“Sure.”
“I used to be the business administrator at the logging company that moved on. My wife was sick. I had to take time away for a couple of years. When I got back into the employment world, I took what I could to keep the bankers from repossessing my house. Francine wouldn’t have been happy with that.” The quiet words created a silence for a time.
“Francine?” Quinn asked, taking a sip of her beer.
“My wife. She died three years ago from cancer. I loved that woman from the first moment I saw her when she was sixteen and a trainee clerk in the office at Henderson Logging Company. Took me two years before I had the courage to ask her out and I wasn’t sure she would. I was a bookworm kind of guy. She was beautiful…I’d never seen anyone with such a vibrant life-force like she had.”
“She accepted then?”
“Not at first, but I wore her down. We got married a year later.” Charlie smiled whimsically. “I wasn’t going to let her get away, that’s for sure.”
Quinn shifted in her seat and smiled. “I’ve never met anyone that I’d consider spending my life with, but I keep looking.”
“Maybe you’ve been trying too hard. Don’t mean to be nosey but how old are you?”
“Oh, well that’s a question and a half to ask a lady.” She chuckled. “I’m thirty-eight.”
Charlie whistled softly and winked. “We would have been married thirty-eight years on Saturday, heck of a coincidence.”
“Yes, actually, yes it is. Do you have any children?”
Charlie’s face sagged. “No, we were never blessed.”
“Well that will probably make two of us. I’m not the mothering kind…in fact I’d have difficulty with my choice of love interest.” Quinn caught Charlie’s soft brown gaze.
“Doesn’t mean you have to forgo the pleasure and pain of children.” He grinned and nodded at their glasses. “One for the road or have you had enough?”
“What about you?”
Charlie glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven and he’d promised Ms. Desrosiers to be in the office early.” I will if you will, but only if you join me for breakfast at Maxali’s at say seven thirty?”
“Seven thirty? Okay, you got it, though we might not get served. I don’t think I’m their best friend right now.”
“Leave that to me.” Charlie stood. “One more for the road it is then.”
Chapter Six
Gene arrived at the factory before anyone else. The security guard was stunned at her arrival when she tapped at the main entrance. He tumbled out of the reception chair and gave her a salute. Then he rushed around the desk and moments later he unlocked the door. His cheeks had gone brick red and he spluttered a good morning.
“Good morning, I’m earlier than normal.” She gave him a pinched smile.
Once inside she gazed around. The reception area was small but perfectly proportioned as far as she was concerned. Only two chairs and a tiny coffee table with three publications: one of which she insisted was the local tabloid, a copy of the monthly Perfumer & Flavorist, and the other was at the discretion of the receptionist. Gene’s eyebrow rose when she saw the sensational headlines of a tabloid called Women’s World.
Chloe’s desk was a semicircle of pale melamine with a large computer screen and keyboard taking up the most space. The chair was what Gene guessed must be typical for a person sitting at a desk all day, but she was drawn to the marvelous multicolored material covering it, that had a line and square pattern. She slowly headed for the door marked private. Opening the door, she walked down the long, narrow corridor with three doors off to the right, one her official office. As she came up to the second, she hesitantly opened it and looked inside. The faint aroma of Crystal permeated the air. One of their most successful perfumes was Christine’s favorite. Gene shut the door and leaned back on it, closing her eyes as a trickle of moisture escaped the eyelids and she sniffed loudly. Savagely wiping away the droplets, she proceeded past Wanda Smith’s sales and accounts office to the end of the corridor and the security coded door. Entering the code, she heard a faint click announce her success and she entered. Closing the door behind her, a harsher click filled the area, locking the door.
This was her domain, and other than her greenhouse at home this was her next best place on earth. Christine had laughed at her addiction to the work and her intense attachment to the plants within. A few weeks before she left Christine had made a remark, which now made perfect sense. “You live for this company and the god damn plants you raise here. You should try life, Gene. I offered you a relationship and you prefer this solitude. God help you.”
Gene frowned before she picked up a sheet of paper from the overloaded paper mountain on the desk she shared with Dee. Neither of them had any concept of filing but somehow it worked. They hadn’t lost any records in the fifteen years they worked together in this environment. The thought of Dee lifted her mood and Gene glanced down at the neat script.
“Ah, Matriarch, Aunty Dee tells me that you are paying close attention to Beautiful.” Gene glanced at the pink rose a yard away that was now in full bloom. The perfume was mesmerizing once you realized it was there but by then you were hooked.
“My version of subtle.” She gave a low chuckle, then gave her attention to the old rose. Her parents had been given the rose from her grandmother when she was born. To expect a rose to last forty-two years was a feat not only for the rose but her careful tending. Each season, no matter the season, she expected that Matriarch would finally tell her that it was over. But not yet. Right now, she needed that anchor to her past and future.
She moved to stand opposite Beautiful, who gave off the vibes that she was the most important item in the room, and frankly she was. Though they were only in the test stages of the perfume, it was only a couple of months away when they could announce to the world the new scent.
“You may well be my savior, Beautiful, and right now I think I need one.”
Gene looked out of the side window that was triple glazed for heat and noise, to the always tranquil view over the municipal gardens. She had seen many a young couple meet and eventually bring their families to play in the gardens over the years, though not so many in recent years. If she could make one of her perfumes really take off, then it could be so different, and the town might grow instead of just exist. With a heavy sigh she turned her attention to what she did best.
†
“I knew it was a bad idea, Charlie. Max has served three people before you, deliberately. Let’s go find someplace else.” Quinn grabbed the gray-suited arm and tugged.
“If you give up this easily, how are you going to help me keep my new job?” Charlie looked at her and then at his arm and arched his brow.
“With difficulty I suspect,” she hissed.
“Wow, Charlie, are you going for an interview or something?” A man, possibly in his late twenties, asked with a grin.
Charlie chuckled and once again Quinn was amazed at how she reacted to this man. He made her feel safe and able to consider anything. Anything that is except being with a man. She smiled as Charlie winked at his qu
estioner.
“What can I get you, Seth?” Max asked the younger man.
“Did you order, Charlie? Because he’s before me, Max, unless you drank too much at the bar last night celebrating your win.”
“What you are talking about?” Max frowned.
Seth shrugged. “I heard your team beat the Drovers. About time too.”
Max’s eyes flew open and Quinn rubbed her hand over her chin. Well, Charlie boy, you certainly are a nice guy.
Charlie lifted a small brown paper bag up and handed it to Max. “Figured you and Alice deserved to have this on your mantle until the next quiz. Quinn was part of your team, right? She asked me to join her when I arrived since I was on my own and all.”
Quinn watched several expressions cross Max’s face; the main one was embarrassment.
“Thank you, Charlie. What can I get you and …”?
“Your big breakfast for the both of us, Max. Right, Quinn?”
“Yes, and a latte, please.”
“What kind of toast?”
“Sourdough.” They both replied in unison and Quinn grinned.
Max nodded and gave them a wooden cube with the number ten on it and turned away. They found a seat in the window and Quinn was amazed at how many people actually were there at this time. Foot traffic she could understand but seated and eating was another thing.
“Is it always this busy so early in a morning?”
Charlie shook his head. “Not sure. This is an unusual time for me to be here. I usually treat myself to a bagel and coffee on a Sunday morning around ten. Francine and I made it a ritual to have Sunday breakfast out and about. That was until—” he looked down at the mosaic table top.
Quinn didn’t know what to say…sorry, maybe. She hadn’t known his wife and it would be a hollow platitude.
“That was a grand gesture on your part…the trophy I mean.” She changed the subject.
His solemn features changed dramatically, and he whispered, “Well that got her attention. I was starving.”
“Me too. I was wondering how you were going to persuade me to recommend backing Desrosiers if they don’t come up with the goods by mid-day?” She wagged her finger at him. “Don’t think having a few drinks and being sociable at breakfast will change my mind on moving our business if they fail.”
“I know, but will you talk with me first before you make that recommendation, please?”
Quinn considered the request.
“Sounds like you already know the outcome and if that’s true why don’t I just leave now. It isn’t as if I can help you…not really. I don’t own Sutters and they like their pound of flesh which is why they employ me.”
“Will you give me a half day to at least find out the true extent of Desrosiers’ problems? I promise I will not sugar coat it. I promised the same thing to Ms. Desrosiers.”
“What’s she like, Genevieve Desrosiers? I’ve heard her name or at least her family name, in almost every sentence since I came here. It’s beginning to sound like a broken record.” At that moment a slip of a girl barely out of school arrived with their coffees, placed them on the table, and left as quickly.
“To be honest, until last night I’d never met her before.” Charlie took a sip of his coffee and smiled slowly.
“Really? You work there, right? Didn’t you ever meet her during working hours?”
“I was the night janitor.”
“The night janitor? Charlie, are you sassing me?”
“Does it matter?”
Quinn pondered that for a few moments. “Nope, I like you, Charlie Spencer.”
“Great, because I was until last night. Now I have a new job, or at least the chance of one if everything works out.”
“Crap, that means not only might I disrupt your boss and lots of townsfolk, I’ll be responsible for you losing a job that you don’t even have yet. I call that pressure, big time.”
“No pressure from me at all. It’s an opportunity and some don’t come to fruition.”
Quinn stared into the frothy beige liquid in front of her. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t came to mind.
“I’ll meet you?” Quinn held up her hands.
“Desrosiers reception.”
“At twelve sharp, and don’t be late. I have a flight back home already booked in the afternoon, with the goods we ordered.” Quinn answered matter-of-factly.
The smell of bacon and eggs attracted her attention. She grinned as the most delicious plateful of food she’d seen in ages was placed in front of her.
“Anything else I can get you?”
Quinn shook her head, already salivating from just the aromas.
“We are good, Gert. Your dad wouldn’t have been happy this morning.”
“Yeah, came home as drunk as a skunk. Mom made him sleep out on the veranda, he was grumpy when I left.” The young woman rolled her eyes. She chuckled and left them to talk to another table.
“Does everyone know everyone here?” Quinn’s quizzical gaze caught Charlie’s warm glance.
“Absolutely, otherwise why live in a small town? This smells and looks delicious. Enjoy, my new friend.”
Quinn did just that.
†
Dee watched her dad reading the local paper in his box-sized office above the main factory area. The floor area, usually a hive of activity in the five main sections, was quiet. She climbed the mezzanine staircase from the floor area and, without knocking, opened the door. When her dad gave her a ferocious look she grinned.
“Morning, Dad, good to see you are here as we agreed.”
Felix grumbled out inaudible words, then stood and engulfed her in a hug. “Morning, sunshine.” He kissed her cheek and then released the hug.
“How long do we have before you need to work?”
“Twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes. Just exactly what do you think we can do?”
“The woman from Sutters will surely have left a number to call. I figure we find the number and call her and give her the tour of the factory. Bet she hasn’t been around a perfume factory before.”
“Sweetheart, she’s probably been round loads of them…” Dee pursed her lips. “Okay, not one like ours, but there is a snag. She will arrive at reception and won’t have a valid appointment.”
“I’ll write the appointment in now, Chloe will never know. She doesn’t arrive until eight twenty-five on the dot.”
“On the dot, huh, and how do you know this?”
Dee laughed. “Because it’s a game Gene and I play, who can spot if any of our regulars are late. Have to say we haven’t had a default in a year.”
“I’m not going to ask who the last one was. So, if we do this, who is the Sutters woman meeting?”
“Why you of course. Who better than you to show her how wonderful we are.”
Felix spluttered. “What?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there too. We will convince her that she needs to give us a little more time… Dad, that’s all Gene needs…a little more time, I’m sure of it. She will have a plan to fix this.”
Felix shook his head. “Sure, she does. Dee maybe you should think about—”
The sound of several workers turning up for their shift made them look in that direction.
“It’s for a good cause, Dad, for the factory, the people who work here, and the town.”
“Ah you are one dreamer, sweetheart. Go, do your reception bit. I’ll expect you at…what time?”
Dee grinned and blew him a kiss as she opened the door. “Ten sound okay?”
“Sure.”
Minutes later Dee had written the appointment in the reception book and smiled as she flicked the book shut. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. I’m going to help you fix this, Gene, no matter what it costs.
†
Quinn, replete from the breakfast she’d thoroughly enjoyed with her new best friend Charlie, sat in the easy chair in her motel room and pressed a speed-dial number.
“Well hello, m
y munchkin.” She listened to the excited chatter at the other end. “Hey, munchkin, want to put your mummy on?” When there was a protest to the request, Quinn grinned. “Sure, I will. A bear, right…ah okay, a puppy.” Seconds later the excited sounds of I’m getting a puppy could be heard and the voice at the end of the line changed dramatically.
“Quinn, behave. You know she thinks you can make anything happen.”
“And you think different? Shame on you.”
“I know what you can do and some things you can’t. If you recall, we live in an apartment that doesn’t allow animals. Not that you would remember…when did you last visit…six months ago?”
“Oh, was it that long, sorry, Tay. Look, I’m not in town. I’m on assignment and I need your help.” There was silence at the other end. “You are still there right, Tay?”
“Yes, yes. You want my help? What in the hell with? I haven’t worked in twelve years.”
Quinn chuckled. “Well this work is—”
“Don't tell me…for free, right?”
“Never said that. In fact, if it works out, I will arrange compensation. You know I always said there was a place that you and Ruby would fit perfectly. I might have found it, girlfriend.”
“Quinn, don’t tease. That is a dream that we both know will never work out.” There was an audible exhale. “How can I help anyway?”
“Can you research a company called Desrosiers in Grady…there might be a French connection. I need everything you can find out.”
“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem, piece of cake really. Dare I ask why?”
Quinn sighed softly then shook her head.
“Because sometimes there are things worth saving that defy logic.”
Another silence enveloped them. Then a soft chuckle let Quinn release a held breath.
“That’s why I named you as godmother to my daughter. I guess you came to the right person. Email me the details and I’ll get right on it. Anything else?”
