Guy looked up. ‘Really? Surely it must be in your room.’
‘You’d think,’ Cat muttered. ‘But it’s not, I’ve looked everywhere.’
‘Oh well, I guess you’ll be staying with us for a little longer then,’ Delphine said, averting her eyes.
Cat shot a glance at her. Why didn’t she seem surprised by the news? Suspicion crawled up her spine. Could Delphine be behind the disappearance of her passport? Surely not! It was unthinkable . . . wasn’t it?
Max appeared in the doorway.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ he muttered, swaggering in wearing black jeans and a T-shirt with some French slogan emblazoned across it. He reeked of cigarette smoke and looked every inch the bratty teenager as he threw himself into one of the chairs at the far end of the table. ‘Breakfast can be so time-consuming.’
Delphine looked furious but she bit her tongue. Guy shot him a disapproving look and didn’t hold back.
‘Max! Don’t be so disrespectful. You know what time this meeting is. And since when do you eat breakfast?’
Max glowered, spoiling his good looks.
Seraphina, more sedately dressed in a pair of tailored trousers with a pink silk shirt, took a seat next to her brother, hiding a rolled-up magazine behind her back. Leoni arrived next, carrying a thick folder bursting with paperwork. Ignoring Cat, who she had hoped would be gone by now, Leoni smoothed down the skirt of yet another black tailored dress and sat down opposite Guy.
‘Xavier is on his way,’ she informed them, flipping open her folder.
Cat was astonished to see what looked like pages and pages of research, with neat, handwritten notes backed up by articles clipped from magazines and colourful sketches. Leoni certainly took her role in the business seriously, Cat thought, impressed but not really surprised. It was what she used to do at the advertising firm to ensure she was fully prepared and able to answer any unexpected questions in meetings. Watching Leoni push her glasses firmly up on to the bridge of her nose, Cat could tell she had something to discuss. Swallowing, she hoped Leoni’s already spiky claws weren’t being sharpened in her direction.
As Xavier, clutching his cigarettes and his mobile phone, slid into the seat next to Cat with a polite but distant nod, Delphine took charge of the meeting.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ she started, giving everyone a cool stare.
As managing director, Guy should surely be running the meeting, thought Cat. She wondered if he minded that his mother assumed control like this. Noting the way he was smoothing his silver hair down with an irritable flick of his hand, she decided that perhaps he did.
Next to her, Xavier shifted in his chair. Wearing a crisp white shirt with well-fitting grey trousers, he looked more professional than his younger brother but his laconic expression indicated he was there out of duty rather than desire. Glancing down, Cat saw that her assessment was accurate; beneath the table, Xavier was surreptitiously reading a text, no doubt from his girlfriend . . . or one of his girlfriends, she thought tartly, remembering what Max had said about Xavier sleeping with most of France.
‘We have many things to discuss,’ Delphine was saying, ‘such as sales, promotions and general targets.’ She threw figures at them blithely, comparing them to the previous quarter and painting an upbeat picture of Ducasse-Fleurie’s finances, despite the fact that they sounded slightly lacklustre, even to Cat’s untrained ear.
Moving on swiftly, as if she was aware she was effectively attempting to throw glitter over what was clearly a dull ornament, metaphorically speaking, Delphine handed round a copy of a recent review of Rose-Nymphea. It had been placed in the top ten in one of France’s best-selling but rather turgid magazines and Delphine waxed lyrical about it, seemingly impressed by the rather uninspiring review.
‘Oh, who cares about that?’ Leoni interjected rudely. ‘That magazine is only read by geriatric women who wouldn’t know if they were dabbing on wee or Chanel No. 5.’
Max grinned and Xavier burst out laughing.
Leoni met her grandmother’s eyes. ‘Seriously, what does it matter if that magazine rates Rose-Nymphea? It’s hardly a five-star review in French Vogue, is it?’
‘It is still a glowing review of our most beloved perfume and I think we should all be grateful for that,’ Delphine hissed, her eyes blazing in Leoni’s direction, even though the boys had been far more disrespectful. Cat was beginning to understand why Leoni acted like such a martyr all the time; Delphine didn’t even bother to hide the fact that she favoured the men in the family, despite their lack of interest in the perfume business and regardless of Leoni’s obvious dedication and commitment.
After a brief pause, Delphine handed out a sales report and systematically went through it.
Without realising it, Cat’s advertising antennae automatically pricked to attention. She had been determined not to allow herself to become even vaguely interested in Ducasse-Fleurie because there was no point. She didn’t want Olivier’s share in the business so she had no reason to even listen to the sales data, let alone make any kind of assessment of it. But she couldn’t help mentally collating the figures and drawing the conclusion that not everything in the Ducasse-Fleurie empire was rosy.
By most people’s standards, the company was generating a healthy profit, but considering profits amassed during previous years, as detailed in the report Delphine had provided, the brand was flagging, mainly due to the fact that no new fragrances or other products had been created for a number of years now.
‘So, nothing has changed since the last meeting then.’ Max yawned, clearly bored. Seraphina, surreptitiously devouring French Vogue under the table, noticed a gaping silence had occurred and looked up guiltily, stuffing the magazine out of sight.
Delphine laced her fingers together so tightly, her knuckles turned white. ‘I really wish you’d show more interest, Maxim,’ she snapped. ‘My father . . . your grandfather invested years of his life in this company. Perfume might not be your thing but without it, you wouldn’t have all of this.’ Delphine swept an elegant hand in the air to encompass the house and everything in it.
‘Oh, I know, we’re all so lucky,’ Max responded derisively. He grabbed Seraphina’s magazine and pointedly began reading it.
Guy, barely containing his rage at his younger son’s behaviour, gritted his teeth. ‘Any other business?’ he growled, keen to wrap the meeting up and get back to work.
Leoni cleared her throat loudly. ‘I have some other business,’ she said, rustling her paperwork importantly.
Halfway out of his seat already, Xavier sat down with a sigh. ‘Forgive me, Leoni,’ he said. ‘I thought the meeting was over. Do continue.’
Cat noted that Leoni betrayed her nerves as she flicked her hair out of her eyes. Not that Cat blamed her; whatever Leoni had to say, Cat had a feeling it was going to be met by disdain.
Leoni deftly handed out some pamphlets she had put together, reluctantly sliding one across the table towards Cat. ‘As you see, I have prepared some information for you all,’ she started, her delivery speeding up as excitement took over. ‘These are my ideas for the future of Ducasse-Fleurie. A new fragrance would be marvellous, of course.’ At this, she shot Xavier a pointed glance and grimaced as his expression remained impassive. ‘But in any event, I feel Ducasse-Fleurie needs to branch out and join its modern competitors. As such, I am proposing a home fragrance line. This would incorporate exquisite candles using our signature scents and also some upmarket sprays for the home and for linen. This way, our brand would become synonymous not just with luxury and wealth but with stylish, everyday living.’ Leoni paused, her brown eyes sweeping the room. She wasn’t about to mention her idea for a store in Paris just yet. Knowing her family, it would be rejected out of hand. Bracing herself for what she felt sure would be an unenthusiastic reaction, she surveyed the room.
‘What do you all think?’
There was silence. Delphine perused Leoni’s handout as though she was sucking lemons and Guy
’s brow furrowed in displeasure. Xavier flicked through it with vague interest but he made no comment.
Cat felt irrationally irritated by Xavier’s apathy but reminded herself it was only because she knew he had a low opinion of her.
‘It would be very expensive,’ Guy said finally. He gestured to Leoni’s pamphlet. ‘It’s all very nice but I can’t see the idea working for us.’
Delphine tossed Leoni’s carefully constructed pamphlet to one side.
‘We have always been a fragrance-only company,’ she said dismissively. ‘What value would it add to have customers spritzing our perfumes around their homes?’ She touched the soft sleeve of her suit. ‘Coco Chanel didn’t feel the need for candles and linen sprays so I don’t see why we should.’
Guy agreed. Xavier shrugged. Max and Seraphina weren’t even pretending to listen.
In spite of herself, Cat felt impatient with their dog-in-themanger attitude. She couldn’t care less about Ducasse-Fleurie but surely anyone with any business sense could see that Leoni’s idea was a good one?
Without thinking, she found herself speaking up in Leoni’s defence. ‘Coco Chanel had many other strings to her bow and the brand now offers jewellery, watches and any number of other products. A home fragrance line is simply another take on skincare or make-up, when you think about it.’ She felt Delphine’s chilly stare fall on her like a bucket of cold water and faltered. She glanced at Leoni who was gaping at her as if she couldn’t quite believe that Cat, the person she had been so hostile towards since her arrival, was her one lone supporter.
Remembering this, Cat had half a mind to back off and keep her thoughts to herself. But she had never been a petty person and she wasn’t about to become one now, regardless of the way Leoni had cold-shouldered her. ‘I think a home fragrance line would be the perfect way to bring Ducasse-Fleurie into a more commercial arena,’ she said, her voice gathering momentum as she mentally slid on her advertising hat. ‘It will also re-establish your company as a key player in the fragrance industry because it will instantly update the brand. And as long as the line retains the luxurious, extravagant feel of your fragrances and the promotion of the products is executed to a high level, it could revive Ducasse-Fleurie in much the same way a new fragrance would.’
Leoni was unbelievably impressed. Cat had detailed the concept of her home fragrance line far more eloquently than she had and even though Cat knew nothing about the perfume industry, she had somehow managed to capture the whole sense of her idea in a nutshell. Leoni eyed Cat suspiciously, wondering if she might be trying to sabotage her in some way; surely the last thing Cat would want to do is help her after the way she’d treated her.
‘And what, pray tell, makes you an authority on perfume sales?’ Delphine queried, unable to conceal her hostility. ‘And on branding?’ Somehow, she made it sound like a swear word.
‘My background is in advertising,’ Cat replied. ‘In branding specifically. I’ve worked on fashion campaigns as well as make-up and fragrance.’ Cat decided against mentioning that she’d lost her job. It wouldn’t help Leoni’s cause and it was none of anyone’s business. Besides, she would sort another job out as soon as she got back to England – whenever that might be. Cat bit her lip but she met Delphine’s eyes as directly as she could.
‘I see. Do tell us about branding, then,’ Delphine said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘As we, the owners of a highly successful perfume conglomerate, so clearly have no idea.’
Cat hesitated, but with a flash of defiance she decided to call Delphine’s bluff. ‘When you have a product you believe in, how you brand it is critical. You need to deliver a clear message and you want your target market to connect with your product emotionally.’ Cat paused for a moment, marshalling the details of the last fragrance campaign she’d worked on. ‘The thing about fragrance is that it triggers emotion, it stimulates the senses like . . . the smell of suntan lotion, for example. It transports you back to that tropical location in seconds. In exactly the same way, perfume taps into the memory banks in our brain that bring us pleasure. It’s a bit like sex.’
Xavier turned round in his seat to look at her and Cat blushed, embarrassed by her analogy. He seemed amused by her discomfort but she resolutely ignored him.
Guy leant forward, intrigued. ‘So, do you think there is something wrong with the way we’re currently promoting ourselves as a brand?’ The last person he had heard talking about perfume in such a way was his wife Elizabeth. Or maybe Xavier. ‘Do you really think this home fragrance idea will make a difference?’
Cat nodded. ‘The way you’re perceived as a brand is that it is luxurious and opulent. Your fragrances are an indulgence, one that is just about affordable but worth every penny. The problem is that because nothing new has been created for some time, the only way you’re reaching any kind of market is with your old established fragrances. Classics, undoubtedly, but they’re becoming viewed as being slightly dated, simply because Ducasse-Fleurie have nothing new on offer, nothing to entice the younger, sexier market.’
‘Exactly!’ Leoni slammed her hand on the table, making Max and Seraphina drop their magazine. ‘This is what I’ve been trying to tell you all. Ducasse-Fleurie will continue to make money with our existing fragrances but don’t we want more than that?’ Her eyes became earnest. ‘Don’t we want to be seen as glamorous and sexy and vibrant, as well as reliable and classic?’
‘Your two main fragrances sell well but they suit an older audience’, Cat said. ‘The trio of fragrances hit the mark perfectly,’ she added reluctantly, detesting paying Xavier any kind of compliment but knowing it was the truth. ‘They covered all mood bases as well as having that luxurious feel about them.’
‘Thank you,’ Xavier responded. ‘You certainly seem to understand what I was trying to do when I created the fragrances.’
Cat shrugged, avoiding his intense gaze. ‘What you all decide to do is up to you obviously. As we all know, it’s none of my business.’ She stood up, keen to search for her passport again. ‘I saw in your brochure that this year is the fiftieth anniversary of Rose-Nymphea. I haven’t a clue what you usually do to mark these sorts of events but, maybe you could relaunch the signature scent. Or tie it in with the home fragrance idea. Anyway, I’ll leave you all to it. I must find my passport so I can go home.’
Cat left the room.
The Ducasse family stared at one another.
‘Well,’ Guy said at last. ‘That was unexpected.’
Leoni grabbed one of the Ducasse-Fleurie brochures from a pile on the side and hurriedly leafed through it. ‘How did none of us notice that it’s the fiftieth anniversary of Rose-Nymphea ?’
Delphine leant on her cane and stood up. ‘Because we’re all too busy running the business,’ she retorted.
‘Really?’ Leoni wished she’d picked up on the anniversary date herself rather than Cat; tying it in with the launch of her home fragrance line was a wonderful idea.
‘Leoni,’ Guy said, ‘I think you should put a formal proposal together for your idea. I’d like to see some samples and how you intend to market the line. In principle, I can see the benefits of the idea, certainly now that Cat has outlined them so expertly, but I’ll make a final decision when you do your presentation. Is that acceptable?’
‘Yes, thank you, Uncle,’ Leoni said demurely, seething on the inside. Even if Cat had been succinct on the whole issue, couldn’t her family take her at her word, just for once?
Guy rubbed his chin, wondering why it had taken an outsider to bring their branding issues so sharply into focus and to notice such a key date in their calendar. He realised they’d all underestimated Cat. ‘That girl isn’t what any of us expected,’ he asserted. ‘I think we’ve been too quick to judge her.’
Xavier frowned. He didn’t think he’d been too quick to judge her at all but he was irked by her cool manner towards him. ‘What the hell have I done to upset the girl? I haven’t even spoken to her.’
Seraphina
looked sheepish. ‘We didn’t realise Cat could speak such good French and she overheard us saying you thought she must be a bit mentally challenged . . . you know, for marrying Olivier when she didn’t really know him.’
Xavier looked exasperated. ‘Oh, great! No wonder she was throwing me evil looks.’ He raked his fingers through his hair irritably. Did it really matter? Cat was leaving as soon as she found her passport and he couldn’t imagine she was too deeply hurt about his opinion. Anyway, it was what he thought so what could he say to make things any better?
‘And she now knows about all those girlfriends Olivier strung along,’ Max threw in for good measure. ‘She seemed pretty cut up about it, actually.’
Guy let out a sigh. They had all behaved deplorably towards the poor girl; no wonder she wanted to cut her losses and leave. ‘We owe Cat an apology,’ he said tightly, standing up. ‘All of us. Before she goes back to England, we need to make amends.’
Delphine rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, Guy, I’m sure Miss Hayes isn’t crying into her pillow. And she’s not going anywhere just yet, not until those papers are signed. How fortuitous that her passport has gone missing, it buys us some time.’
Xavier frowned. Did his grandmother know something about the missing passport? He dismissed the idea. No, it was not her style to stoop to such behaviour.
‘This meeting is over.’ Delphine wrapped things up. ‘Maxim, next time, set your alarm, dress more formally and absolutely no yawning. Seraphina, ditto, and for your information, Vogue magazine is not a replacement for company data. Read it in your own time.’ Drawing herself up to her full height, Delphine turned to her granddaughter. ‘Leoni, don’t you have better things to do than come up with silly ideas for the company when it is functioning very well as it is?’
Leoni flushed. ‘There’s a difference between functioning and flourishing, Grandmother,’ she argued. ‘Ducasse-Fleurie needs new lines. We can’t keep coasting like this.’
Delphine pursed her lips. ‘It’s doing just fine, Leoni. If you’d listened to my report, you would know that. Wouldn’t you be better off finding yourself a boyfriend?’ she suggested nastily. ‘Or a girlfriend, if that’s your preference?’
Heaven Scent Page 10
