‘I love it!’ Leoni declared, her tired eyes lighting up with sheer delight. ‘The location is ideal for a perfume shop and the building is superb. I can just see our beautiful perfumes lined up in that window, lit from above . . . and the shelves, they would be so perfect for the home fragrance line!’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Ashton nodded. ‘You could use your new candles to fill the store with fragrance and maybe some boards advertising the perfume could go here?’ He pointed to a section at the back.
Longingly, Leoni ran a finger over one of the photographs. She wanted the building. She didn’t know how they were going to get it but it was everything she had hoped for when she had envisaged a store in Paris. Everything and more. Ashton must know her so well to have found this building and she felt deeply grateful to him.
‘Is it up for sale yet?’ she asked, feeling panicky.
Ashton shook his head. ‘Yes, but it’s going to auction. I was lucky enough to get the keys recently, so I was able to go in and measure up and get a head start on the plans.’ His cornflower-blue eyes met hers keenly. ‘I’m guessing all we need to do now is convince Guy.’
Leoni sank down into her chair dispiritedly. ‘That’s the problem, Ash. Guy is . . . well, you know, I love my uncle, but he’s in the Dark Ages when it comes to such things.’
‘What things?’ Unexpectedly, Guy poked his head around the door.
Leoni felt guilty. His eyes seemed dull and his shoulders were drooping. Guy seemed rather depressed and she hoped it wasn’t her fault.
Guy’s dark eyes lit up, however, when he caught sight of Ashton. ‘Hey, great to see you, Ash! Always a pleasure.’ He came in and shook Ashton’s hand energetically, seemingly upbeat again. ‘What have you got there?’ he said, gesturing to the plans.
Leoni felt defensive. This wasn’t how she wanted to approach the subject. She had hoped she could catch Guy in a good mood, when he was relaxing, because that was when he was at his most amenable. It was too late now, however.
‘We were just talking about a property in Paris,’ she confessed, watching his face carefully. ‘Ashton found it and he’s drawn some plans up for us.’ She took a deep breath, knowing how much was riding on this. ‘It could be the first Ducasse-Fleurie perfume shop in Paris. It’s small and not remotely flashy but it’s in a great location and with Ashton’s suggestions I think it could be beautiful and classy, just right for our brand.’
Guy was silent as Ashton quickly talked him through the plans. When he had finished, Guy seemed unimpressed. ‘I just can’t help thinking it would be difficult to control the business in Paris without one of us visiting it constantly,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s so much easier with everything based in the south of France. The store is local and we have total control over the sales, the staff and the output.’
Leoni slumped over her desk, disappointed. She knew Guy would never agree to the idea but just for a moment she had allowed herself to hope. And the trouble was, when Guy made his mind up, he rarely changed it. As stubborn as the proverbial mule, he seemed to think it was a weakness to ever go back on a decision, even if he was patently in the wrong.
Guy stepped away from the desk, the very action underlining his decisiveness on the issue. ‘I really don’t think it’s viable right now. We have so much going on and opening a store in Paris would take up too much time.’ He shook his head again. ‘Leoni, I’m sorry but it’s too much to take on. And I thought you were focusing on your home fragrance line?’
‘I am!’ Leoni flung her arm out to encompass her piles of notes. ‘I’ve been up most of the night working on it. But opportunities like this building don’t come along all the time. It would be awful to lose such a perfect property.’ She could cry she felt so disappointed.
‘What a shame,’ Ashton interjected, feeling as frustrated as Leoni. ‘It’s such an incredible space, Guy, really. If you could see it, I honestly think you’d be totally won over.’ He rolled the plans up with obvious regret. ‘I’m not the only one who thought it was perfect for a perfume shop either so I guess it will come down to who makes the best offer at auction.’
‘Really?’ Leoni sat up. She hadn’t even seen the building but already the thought of someone else buying it, let alone using it to create a perfume store, was unbearable. ‘It wasn’t anyone we knew, was it?’
Guy headed to the door. ‘Whoever it was is irrelevant. The timing is all wrong, Leoni.’ His mouth in a tight line, he made his final point firmly.
Ashton stared at him, thinking how much Guy reminded him of Olivier right now. His friend had been equally obstinate. ‘Her name was Marianne Peroux.’ Ashton turned to Leoni. ‘She’s the owner of Armand.’
Leoni put her head in her hands. ‘Brilliant. One of our main competitors.’
By the door, Guy spun round. ‘Marianne Peroux?’ He went pale beneath his tan. ‘Are you sure?’
Ashton nodded. ‘She said she knew you. Unfortunately she found out I was looking at the building for Ducasse-Fleurie and now she’s absolutely hell-bent on acquiring it.’
‘Is she now?’ Rubbing his chin, Guy’s brown eyes were gleaming. He began to pace the office. Leoni watched him in astonishment. What on earth was going on? And who was Marianne Peroux?
Realising Ashton and Leoni were eyeing him expectantly, Guy sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the desk. ‘Marianne is an old flame,’ he explained, looking rather uncomfortable. ‘Before I met Elizabeth, I was working in Paris in a flagging perfume company in the sales department and Marianne and I fell in love.’ His eyes stared past them as he became lost in memories. ‘We were due to be married but she was so competitive! She had ambitions to take over the company and between us we came up with a plan. I thought she was taking too many risks . . . I discovered she was intending to sack thousands of people. I did my best to talk her out of it but . . .’
‘I’m guessing she went ahead and did it anyway,’ Ashton provided, thinking about the way Marianne’s mischievous green eyes had taunted him as she had made her salacious dinner invitation. ‘Having met her, I can only imagine how ambitious she was back then. She is certainly not a woman who is easily ignored.’
Leoni glanced at Ashton briefly, wondering if he fancied this Marianne woman but dismissed the thought immediately. Having met a couple of his previous girlfriends many years ago – timid, unassuming girls – she didn’t think Marianne Peroux sounded like his type at all.
Guy started pacing the office again. ‘Oh, you have no idea, Ash! She got rid of the department, including me, and she stole a number of my ideas along the way. It didn’t take her long to topple the CEO and take his place.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets, old feelings of anger resurfacing. ‘I couldn’t forgive her for what she’d done and we broke up. I moved back to Provence and I met Elizabeth the same year. She was working as an au pair – absurd really, when she had such a natural talent as a “nose”.’
Guy reminisced for a moment. They had both been unaware of her talent for the first three years of their marriage and it was only when Elizabeth began showing an interest in the business that she discovered her natural ability to blend fragrance.
‘Marianne is nothing like Elizabeth,’ Ashton commented. ‘Elizabeth was sort of innocently beautiful, wasn’t she? And really caring, whereas Marianne is—’
‘Well, quite.’ Guy shot Ashton a meaningful look. Man to man, they both knew what they were talking about. Marianne was a femme fatale – alluring, seductive and ultimately dangerous.
‘Wow,’ Leoni said. ‘I had no idea you’d had some big romance before you met Aunt Elizabeth.’ She glanced at Guy but he was looking out of the window, apparently lost in thoughts of Marianne. Abruptly, he spun round, a look of utter determination in his eyes.
‘Get that building,’ he instructed Ashton.
‘Really? I can definitely try—’
Guy cut him off sharply. ‘Don’t try, just get it. Do whatever it takes and pay whatever you need to. I’ll sanctio
n any budget to ensure we get it and then I’ll pay you handsomely to renovate it for us.’
Leoni put her hands to her mouth. Guy was giving the go-ahead for the store! Her delight was tinged with a flash of annoyance that Guy had argued that her home fragrance idea might be too expensive when he had literally just offered a blank cheque to Ashton for the Paris property. Leoni had always known the company – and the family, for that matter – had more than enough money at their disposal but it irritated her that Guy’s willingness to loosen the financial reins seemed to depend on a personal whim rather than sound business reasons.
‘Marianne must not get her hands on that building, do you understand?’ Guy told Ashton.
Stunned, Ashton nodded. ‘Whatever you say, Guy.’
‘Leoni, I want you to oversee this and keep me up to date.’ Guy turned back to Ashton. ‘Don’t underestimate Marianne for a second and believe me when I say she will stop at nothing to get her own way. Do not trust her, all right?’
Wordlessly, Ashton nodded and Guy strode out of the room.
Over the moon, Leoni did something rash and threw her arms round Ashton’s neck. She smiled from ear to ear as he swung her up in the air.
‘What a week!’ she exclaimed breathlessly. ‘First I’m asked out on a date and now this!’
Ashton’s smile faded. ‘A date?’
Leoni nodded, smoothing her hair down. ‘You know the candle man, Jerard Monville? He asked me out on a date after our business meeting.’
‘And . . . you accepted?’ Ashton couldn’t quite understand why he felt so jolted by the news. There was something in Leoni’s eyes, a glimmering excitement, that he hadn’t seen before. This Jerard man must be quite something because she was never this animated over anything other than spreadsheets. Moreover, Leoni never accepted dates, she was all about the business.
‘I know, isn’t it unlike me?’ Leoni beamed, looking happier than she had in months. ‘But Jerard is, well, let’s just say we have a similar work ethic.’
Ashton felt an irrational rush of relief. ‘Oh, so you don’t fancy him as such, then?’
Leoni blushed. ‘Well, he’s very attractive, actually. Nice looking, I suppose you might say . . . handsome even. We’re going out to dinner at the weekend and I’m looking forward to it.’ She paused. ‘Very much so, in fact.’
Ashton’s mood plummeted further.
‘Aren’t you pleased for me?’ Leoni looked up, puzzled by Ashton’s silence.
‘Er . . . yes, of course.’ With a monumental effort, Ashton pulled himself together. ‘Of course I’m pleased for you. I hope you have fun.’ Brandishing the plans for the shop, he gave her a hearty smile which was totally at odds with his feelings. ‘I must get back to Paris and get the ball rolling,’ he added, trying to sound jovial.
‘I’ll call and let you know how my date goes,’ Leoni said happily as Ashton headed for the door.
‘Can’t wait,’ Ashton said cheerfully. Shutting the door, he leant against it, feeling utterly sick. All the old, intense feelings he had for Leoni – ones he’d tried to bury years ago – came rushing to the surface. Leoni had never had a clue that when they were younger, Ashton had started to see her as more than his pen pal’s older sister. She wasn’t his usual type at all, but he had fallen head over heels with her quirky looks, intriguing personality and her endearing earnestness. He knew that no matter how prickly she was on the outside, to those who knew her well, she was soft and sensitive on the inside. And he loved her for it.
Still, it had all come to nothing because one day back then, Ashton had confided in Olivier about his feelings. Olivier had flung his head back and guffawed before telling him Leoni only dated rich Frenchmen and that he was wasting his time. Humiliated, Ashton had shrugged the comment off, telling Olivier he hadn’t been serious about Leoni anyway.
Olivier had been right, though, Ashton thought bitterly. Leoni, when she decided to date anyone, went for rich Frenchmen. The trouble was, no other woman seemed to have measured up to Leoni since. He had tried bloody hard to stop thinking of her in that way but no one had quite got under his skin the way she had.
Keeping watch by the college library window, Max was on tenterhooks. Seraphina had sneaked out hours ago to meet someone and she still wasn’t back. He checked his watch again. It was midnight. Where the hell was she? She’d promised him she would be back by eleven, before the main gates closed.
Max cursed. If she was caught by the teacher in charge of their year, Seraphina risked being kicked out. Monsieur Gaultier – no relation to Jean-Paul, sadly – was strict, sadistic and looking for an excuse to get rid of them, especially since Seraphina had been caught reading a copy of English Vogue in his English lesson twice in the past week.
It was so stupid, going out like this on a week night! All Seraphina would say was that she wasn’t meeting the sleazy guy from the beach and Max believed her, but judging by the amount of make-up she’d plastered on before she left, she was meeting some other man. And Max had a bad feeling about it. Maybe it was because Seraphina was taking risks and being furtive, something she never normally did, or maybe he was just wary about whoever this man was she might be dating. Either way, he couldn’t help worrying. He had thrown a jumper on over the black shorts he slept in, just in case he had to go looking for her.
Squinting through the window into the inky darkness, he saw a flash of white-blond hair in the distance. It had to be Seraphina but she still had a football pitch to negotiate, as well as getting through the locked doors at the side of the building. Max dashed down towards the doors so he could let her in, his bare feet squeaking on the scrubbed floors. Arriving at the door, he was bemused not to find Seraphina there waiting to be let in. Turning round, he saw her emerge from a window that was slightly ajar further down the corridor, wearing her dressing gown over the silver dress she’d gone out in. She had obviously prepared for her late return by leaving her robe outside and the window ajar.
Max’s jaw tightened. Couldn’t she have told him that, instead of pretending she wouldn’t be late? She landed awkwardly and crashed into the wall, hard. In shock, she clapped a hand over her mouth and pointed frantically at the wall. Baffled, Max stared back at her. There was a moment’s silence and then a shrieking siren started, filling the corridor with a deafening wail. It was the fire alarm. Max and Seraphina put their hands over their ears, exchanging horrified glances. They heard shouts and yells from people overhead.
Without warning, the sprinklers went off and showered them both with water and soon the corridor was awash.
‘I’m so sorry!’ Seraphina cried. Her mascara was sliding down her cheeks in gothic streaks. ‘I didn’t see the alarm . . .’ She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes panic-stricken. ‘What are we going to do?’
As people in dressing gowns and pyjamas started to appear, Max didn’t waste time thinking. Catching sight of Madeleine frenziedly beckoning them at the end of the corridor, he grabbed Seraphina’s hand. They started to run and headed in Madeleine’s direction but as they shot through the doors, they crashed into someone. Stopping dead and looking up, their hearts sank as they realised it was Monsieur Gaultier. In spite of it being midnight, he was pristine in a striped dressing gown, his blond hair neatly brushed.
Madeleine, having intended to send them out through a side entrance before Monsieur Gaultier arrived, was gutted. She threw Max an apologetic look but Max was too busy trying to think how on earth they could emerge from this unscathed to notice. Crowds had gathered either side of them and eyes were goggling as everyone strained to hear what was being said over the noise of the alarm.
‘Well, well, well,’ Monsieur Gaultier said with obvious satisfaction. ‘What do we have here then?’ He scrutinised Seraphina’s face but most of her make-up had been washed away by the sprinklers. Petrified, she tightened her belt in case her silver dress was showing.
Max stepped forward. ‘It was my fault,’ he said in a clear voice. ‘I . . . er . . . got up to get a d
rink and I accidentally set the fire alarm off.’
‘You got up to get a drink,’ Monsieur Gaultier echoed sarcastically, his eyes resting on Max’s jumper. ‘But the bathrooms are that way.’ He pointed in the other direction. ‘You, Maxim Ducasse, have pushed me too far this time. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t send you straight home.’
Elbowing Seraphina back, Madeleine bravely stepped forward. ‘It’s true, Max was going to the bathroom but I made him accompany me to the medical room because I felt unwell.’ With a flash of inspiration, she rubbed her tummy discreetly. ‘Women’s problems, Monsieur Gaultier,’ she murmured, casting her eyes to the ground. ‘Please don’t tell anyone . . . it’s so embarrassing.’
Eyeing her doubtfully, Monsieur Gaultier grunted. He didn’t believe the Ducasse boy for one minute but Madeleine Lombard was one of his best students and this was the first incident she had ever been involved in. Regretfully and only because he felt sure he could get Madeleine into one of the best universities in France, Monsieur Gaultier decided to give the Ducasse twins the benefit of the doubt. He would, however, let their father know what had been going on.
‘That had better be the truth, Madeleine. You,’ he stabbed a finger at Max, ‘are lucky you’re not on the first train home.’ Turning, he roared at the goggling crowds. ‘To bed, all of you!’ and he herded them back to their rooms.
‘Thanks,’ Max said to Madeleine, regarding her curiously for a moment. He had no idea why she would choose to save him like that but he was grateful for her intervention. Madeleine smiled shyly and left them to it.
Turning to Seraphina, Max grabbed her by the shoulder. ‘What were you thinking? You almost got us both expelled!’ The expression in her eyes was dreamy and he was infuriated. ‘Were you meeting your boyfriend?’ he demanded.
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