Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

“Wait!” she called after me.

  Pausing, I glanced back at her.

  “Can we just go?” Her hand tightened around the banister. “I’m starving.”

  “I’ve booked us a table at Oceana on the Water. It’s worth the wait.” My grin widened and I sprinted upstairs.

  I felt around for a switch and flicked on the light, seeing the stark, open floor plan of the room. My smile faded.

  Raquel caught up to me, slamming against my back.

  I spun around. “Tell me you’re not living here?”

  But I already knew the answer. A mattress lay on the floor in the corner covered by a blue duvet. It was a devastating view, and from the way she cowered at the top of the stairs she hadn’t planned on me seeing it.

  “Don’t I pay you enough?” I muttered.

  “Pinching pennies,” she stuttered out. “I can’t afford rent on an apartment as well as here. It’s temporary…obviously.”

  I eased away from her and strolled toward the small fridge in the far corner. I knelt and opened the door, peering in at a carton of skimmed milk, a bottle of Pepsi, and some leftover sushi. I stared at her questioningly.

  “I can survive roughing it for awhile.” She made it sound like a joke.

  “Why are you saving your money if you’re letting this place go?” I pushed to my feet.

  “I just made the decision.”

  Maybe she was in denial.

  “Where are you staying in South Beach?” I asked.

  The driving distance between South Beach and Dunedin was at least five or six hours and from the way her clothes were scattered on the floor, including the dress she’d worn this afternoon at the polo match, I surmised she must be staying here on the weekends.

  “During the week I’m at a hotel,” she explained.

  “Which one?” I dared to ask.

  “It’s nice. Cozy.”

  “Which one, Raquel?”

  “Fairweather Inn Hotel.”

  I didn’t bother trying to hide my horrified expression. “I have a place. It’s close to work and comfortable. You will stay there.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “Do I look like I’m negotiating?” I scanned the room one final time. “Pack your bags. We’ll leave for your new place after dinner.”

  “What’s the rent going to be?”

  I smiled. “How about a month rent free? That’ll give you enough time to close the store and find a decent place.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want your charity.”

  “I’m your employer. I need you focused. You’re probably not getting any sleep in that motel.” I corrected its name.

  “This is a lot to take in.”

  “Time to pack, Ms. Wren.” I waved my hand in the air. “Living here isn’t even legal.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It just became my business. Gather your things.”

  “This is so embarrassing,” she mumbled.

  “Hey—” I walked over and brought her in for a hug, feeling her tremble against me. “There’s no strings attached. I won’t bother you. You’ll have a safe and comfortable home that is a big improvement on this or any hotel.”

  She stared up at me. “I’m more independent than you realize.”

  “That sounds like a no,” I said darkly. “It’s a word I’m not used to hearing.”

  “How will I repay you?”

  “You and I are friends,” I said, trying to soothe her. “And this is what friends do.” I hugged her tighter, cursing myself for making everything more complicated than it already was.

  This level of empathy wasn’t usually in me.

  There was just something so authentic about Raquel—and I knew pain when I saw it. If all of this was indeed an elaborate trap to bewitch me, I would turn it around and set my own. I could handle this. Handle her.

  As long as I kept the promise to myself that there’d be no more intimacy between us, everything would work out fine and we’d find a resolution. The thought crossed my mind that I could tap the phone in my beachfront property, and the surveillance I had in place would ensure I could watch her coming and going more closely. Though there were no cameras in the bedroom. I wasn’t a complete psycho.

  There was something to be said for keeping one’s enemy close.

  I leaned against the wall and watched her pack. She’d asked me to wait downstairs but I didn’t want to take my eyes off her.

  Raquel brought out a large suitcase. Soon, I was carrying it down the stairs for her and then rolling it through the front of the store. I loaded it into the back of my Mercedes while she locked up the store. When she hurried over to me, I could see a flurry of emotions crossing her face. Raquel exuded strength, but there was an underlying current of confliction running through her and it was this sentiment that stirred my sympathy.

  We arrived at the marina within minutes.

  I threw the keys to the valet and Raquel and I headed along the boardwalk toward the restaurant. Halfway there, Raquel suddenly fell behind. I paused and followed her gaze down to her shoe, which was stuck between the wooden slats. When she pulled her foot up the heel was hanging off.

  She snapped it the rest of the way off and her gaze rose to meet mine. “Bit of an incident, but nothing I can’t handle.”

  I threw a polite smile at a passing couple who glanced our way. Raquel was trying to snap off her other heel.

  “Were they expensive?” I asked.

  “Kind off.” She gave the other shoe’s heel a tug. “I’ll have to even them out. Can you snap this one off, too, please?” She handed it to me.

  I went to break off the heel. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I packed another pair in the suitcase. I’m too hungry to go back. Break it off.”

  I applied enough pressure to snap off the heel and then handed the shoe back to her, slipping the broken heel into my jacket pocket.

  “How is it?” I watched her walk, admiring her no fuss attitude.

  “Like it never happened.” She grinned up at me.

  “Back down to fun-size.” I nudged her arm. “Just how I like you.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “I’ll remember that.” I winked at her.

  Her blush was endearing. “Look…” She raised her foot for me to see “I’ve invented a new style,” she said, giggling. “If all else fails I’ll go into the shoe business.”

  “Quite the scientist, Ms. Wren.” I wrapped my arm around her.

  I wanted her relaxed with a large glass of wine in her so I could explore who this woman really was. No one could keep up such a good girl façade for long with booze inside them. The truth would slip through the cracks.

  Oceana on the Water had honored our reservation despite us being late. I expressed my gratitude for their courtesy considering the place was extra busy for a Sunday night. We followed the concierge through the restaurant and I reached back for Raquel’s hand. She wrapped her fingers around mine and it felt right, although it was hard to define why.

  We stopped off at our respective restrooms to wash our hands after the shoe escapade, and were quickly reunited and led to the outside seating area. The warm breeze shook off the chill from the air-conditioning as we strolled toward the best table they had to offer. I slid out Raquel’s chair for her and then took the seat opposite.

  The delicious scents of garlic and flowing wine stirred my appetite and I asked our waitress to bring us bread while we waited for our meal. I ordered steak and Raquel chose salmon.

  “What a wonderful view.” Raquel pushed to her feet and leaned on the balustrade, staring out at the ocean.

  The sun was setting on the horizon, its bold reds, oranges and golden yellows reflecting off the water. The scene never failed to inspire me.

  Raquel looked like a windswept miracle, her hair flowing about her delicate features, seemingly unaware of her sensuality as her chiffon hem lifted in the breeze, just enough to flaunt her thighs.

>   “It’s so beautiful.” She looked back at me, her face lit up with joy. “I’m so grateful, Astor.” She took her seat and reached across the table for my hand, holding it in hers. “Thank you for this.”

  “This is the easiest thing I’ve done all year.”

  Her gaze broke away from mine, as though she felt overwhelmed for a second, and I saw she looked conflicted.

  “Everything okay?”

  Raquel stared out at the nightscape and I heard her let out a wistful sigh. “You’re being very kind.”

  “I’ll be glad to see you eat. When was your last good meal?”

  “I eat well enough.” She rolled her eyes. “You probably think I’m a mess. That shoe incident didn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

  “I admire you.”

  She gave me a rueful smile. “Why?”

  “There’s no pity party being thrown. I see a woman who will find a way to get back on her feet in no time.” I lowered my gaze. “You provided a demonstration minutes ago.”

  She glanced at her feet. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “Grace under pressure. I think you could handle anything. Or anyone, Raquel. I’m looking forward to revealing more of your skill set.”

  “Oh?”

  “Anything you want to share?” I waited for her to answer.

  “Not really, no. Why?”

  “You just seem a little unsettled.”

  “I really liked those shoes.”

  I remembered the uncomfortable expression on her face as she’d looked around her old laboratory. That scale on the floor was out of place. She didn’t strike me as someone who’d treat her equipment with disrespect. Or maybe she’d snapped from the pressure and beneath that serene demeanor was someone on the edge.

  I leaned back. “What I’m interested in knowing is what lengths you’ll go to.”

  “For my store?” she whispered. “I’m doing okay.”

  Pulling out my phone, I opened up the browser and typed in Perfume Girl, searching the recent headlines all the while pretending to read a text. “I’ll only be a second,” I reassured her.

  “Of course.” She buttered her bread roll. “You probably don’t get a day off.”

  The news article was on the second page of the Google search, and I selected the header that took me to an online article in the Dunedin Weekly. Apparently, her store had sustained a break-in a week ago.

  Someone had thrown that scale to the ground. Someone had tipped their hand, and this was as much about greed as it was an emotional strike. Even more startling was the fact that Raquel had not mentioned it.

  My gaze rose to meet hers. “Red or white wine?”

  “I’D LOVE A CHARDONNAY.” I couldn’t look at him.

  I was afraid he’d see how conflicted I was because I was enjoying his company, and yet I’d inserted myself into his lab for one purpose only.

  If it wasn’t for that ultimate goal, this would be the date of my dreams—though Astor had made it quite clear this evening was strictly business.

  I was still inwardly cringing over the fact he’d discovered I was living at my shop. It was considerate of him to rescue me, but it made my situation more complicated. If Astor was innocent, he’d remember this evening and end up feeling betrayed on the deepest level. Either way, all of this was temporary and as wonderful as it was to spend time with him it wouldn’t last.

  We wouldn’t last. Even losing him as a friend would hurt more than it should.

  The waitress interrupted my dark musing when she turned up with a glass of wine. Astor declined to drink as he was driving. I took a large sip of chardonnay, and when I saw him watching me I took a calming breath and quickly thanked him for bringing me here.

  Astor had chosen a lovely restaurant with a spectacular view of the harbor and its row upon row of yachts, their tall masts reflected dreamily in the water. A cool breeze blew in from the ocean and the dark clouds in the distance told me a storm was brewing. At some point it would rain tonight.

  “What are your thoughts?” he asked softly.

  “I know we won’t be going back to Havana together,” I admitted. “But I had a lovely time.”

  “When we made love?”

  My gaze broke away from his and I stuttered out some answer about how I remembered it all fondly. Why did he have to use the word “love” as though there’d been that sort of endearing emotion between us?

  I inhaled sharply. “I need you to know those hours at the hotel…”

  “Say it.”

  “It was good for me.”

  He hesitated as though mulling over his answer. “I haven’t given it any thought.”

  Grabbing my napkin, I laid it over my lap and took a few seconds to smooth it out, preferring to sweep my gaze over the other guests who were chatting away and seemingly enjoying their meals.

  I forced a smile. “I’ve been thinking about our special project.”

  He lifted his glass of water and took a sip, and it was easy to be mesmerized by the way he wiped the condensation off the base. Those same fingers had swept over my body, giving me so much pleasure…

  “I’m listening,” he said, his tone seductive.

  “We can use olibanum—”

  “Frankincense.”

  “Yes, and add black suede.”

  “You don’t think I’ve done that before?”

  “I haven’t finished, Mr. Beauregard. If you add Rose Synactif it will provide those luxurious qualities you’re looking for.”

  “I’ve used that combination—”

  “But have you added liquid gold?”

  He leaned forward. “Oud’s doable.”

  “And musk.”

  “I hope you’re referring to the synthetic version?”

  “Yes, because that species of deer is endangered and you don’t strike me as a man willing to go to those lengths to leap ahead of the competition.”

  “Never. Though I’m perfectly willing to destroy the competition if need be.” He held my gaze.

  “Surely you’re not threatened by my little store?”

  “The one that’s closed?”

  I sat back. “Working on anything new?”

  “I’m actually working on something very special.” He studied my face.

  I refused to take the bait and smiled sweetly. “Do tell.”

  “What are your thoughts on Orris?”

  And why would he say that unless he knew my Orris oil had been stolen. I could be sitting with the man who had ordered the strike on Perfume Girl. Maybe he was letting me know he was on to me, too.

  I was spiraling toward danger.

  “Something wrong, Raquel?”

  “What do you think of my suggestion?”

  “Give me your foot.”

  “What?”

  “I can see your feet are hurting.”

  “Turns out I’m not such a genius in shoe design after all.” I eased off my shoe and lifted my leg toward him.

  Astor pulled my foot up onto his knee and caressed my arch, soothing the tension and soreness with a deep press of his fingertips. His touch felt amazing.

  “I’m getting to know your brave face,” he teased.

  The way he was caressing me sent mixed signals to my body, arousing me and making me heady.

  “You’ve never married?” I burst out.

  “No.”

  I glanced around to see if anyone was witnessing this intimate scene.

  “You never came close?” I tried to pull my foot away.

  Astor’s grip tightened. “Never met someone willing to put up with me.”

  “Maybe your standards are too high?”

  His thumb dug into my arch. “I don’t want to end up divorced.”

  I squirmed at the pressure. “No one does.”

  “It strikes me as strange that two people who set out so in love could turn around and hurt each other.”

  “I didn’t hurt him,” I said in my defense.

  Astor’s eyes narrow
ed and I suspected he was wondering if that was the first time Damien had cheated on me.

  “Still, you seem to have it all,” I said.

  “Do I?”

  “A successful business. A loving family.”

  He went to speak and then seemed to think better of it.

  “I suppose you have to make sure the woman you are pursuing has pure motives.”

  “Are yours pure, Raquel?”

  I hesitated only for a moment. “They are,” I whispered.

  The waitress appeared and I managed to pull my foot out of his grip as our meals were placed before us. I needed a few seconds to gather myself and bury the memory of his touch.

  The food looked delicious.

  “I’m fascinated by your talent,” he said, slicing through his steak.

  I lifted my knife and fork. “I can say the same about you, Astor.”

  “Your choices of ingredients are unusual.” He tilted his head. “But I think they’d work.”

  “I had Orris oil once.” I said it without thinking and on his frown, added, “You mentioned you have a new fragrance made from Orris?”

  He rose and then came around to my side of the table to place his jacket on my shoulders. “Want the heater on?”

  I glanced at the patio heater above us. “I’m fine.”

  His cologne was masterful. I stilled to savor the waves of pleasure it brought, appreciate the elegance of it. Those possessive properties told me it was one of his.

  Astor took his seat. “Eat. Then I’ll take you home.”

  “Your guest house?”

  He lifted his fork and held my gaze. “It will be your home for now.”

  “Not sure I should take advantage of your kindness.”

  “Finish your wine, Raquel. It’ll make for a more relaxing drive to South Beach.”

  He was right—we had a long drive ahead.

  Was I really willing to go as far as necessary to carry out my plan? The risks were becoming greater every day, and Astor had been different around me tonight, leading me to believe he might know more about me than he was letting on.

  “Those who cross me regret it for the rest of their lives.” Astor’s words came back to haunt me, causing me to shiver.

  His steely gaze swept over me. “I’ll have them turn that heater on.”

  “I WASN’T EXPECTING…” RAQUEL’S WORDS trailed off as she looked around the luxurious living room.