Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

  “It was a good thing you found him.”

  Astor’s expression hardened. “What are you doing here, Raquel?”

  “I need to show you something—”

  “I heard you threatened my sister?”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “She called me. You upset her.”

  “Ask Taylor,” I said defensively. “She was there.” I pressed the ledger against his chest and he took it from me. “Astor, I should have shown you this instead of fussing over the formula when you were at my shop. Bear in mind I never saw your ingredients. You never showed them to me.”

  His frown deepened. “What is this?”

  “It’s proof.” I forced a smile to reassure him.

  He gave a resigned nod, then opened the book and flipped through it.

  “The last page.” I watched him skim. “The last formula is the one I was working on. Recognize it?”

  He looked confused. “What am I meant to be looking at?”

  Astor flipped open the book for me to see the last page—only it was not the right formula. It was the previous one.

  “Give it to me.” My voice faltered as I took it back from him and flipped to the where the formula was meant to be. “I don’t understand.”

  Looking closer, I ran my fingertip along the faint tear in the middle where the page had been ripped out. My thoughts racing, I tried to recall when I had last seen it—before I’d given this to book to Damien for safekeeping.

  “He tore out the page,” my voice rasped. “Damien…”

  “Ah.”

  “I took a photo with my phone.” I went to reach for it.

  “Don’t.” A flash of sympathy showed on Astor’s face before his expression morphed once more into hard-edged doubt.

  “You have to believe me, Astor.”

  He came closer, so close his body pressed mine back into the wall. “Raquel, I can’t deny that what you and I had was special. But it’s over. Whatever you intended it to be—”

  “I don’t understand.” My lips trembled.

  “Let’s take these memories with us and forget the rest,” he whispered. “This is how I want to remember you.”

  “Remember me how?” I exhaled sharply.

  His hands cupped my face and he pressed his lips to my mouth firmly, his tongue darting and dancing with mine, comforting and soothing and promising that somehow, some way we’d survive this…

  Until he pulled away from me, his eyes filled with sadness. “Goodbye, Raquel.”

  “But—”

  He turned and headed down the hallway.

  There were no more words that could be spoken. I had outstayed my welcome and the air had become suffocating in this old house. The ghosts haunting this place had found me, too.

  With my ledger clutched to my chest I bowed my head in shame and hurried out the front door realizing this last piece of evidence had been stolen from me, too.

  What hurt me most was the knowledge that Astor’s trust in this world had been shattered again…by me. He’d saved his mother all those years ago, but in doing so had ruined his own life. Glancing up at the sprawling manor I realized it was nothing but a prison keeping the past alive and those who dwelled within it forever trapped.

  Unwittingly, I had reaffirmed his distrust in the world, tainted his happiness.

  As I drove my Alfa Romeo down the long driveway, I refused to glance in my rearview mirror and be reminded of all I had ruined.

  I SLAMMED THE RANGE ROVER’S door shut and stomped toward the strip club. I wiped sweat from my brow. After blasting air-conditioning in my car, I’d been hit by a wave of Florida’s sticky heat when I had climbed out.

  Usually I didn’t care, but lately, small things had bothered me more.

  This afternoon, I had walked away from the first woman who had ever gotten to me in a way I didn’t know was possible. Raquel had thrown my instincts off and I’d succumbed to her smile, her voice, the way she walked…her body had left me craving more.

  I couldn’t get her out of my thoughts, couldn’t believe what I had with her was over. Our beginning had come to an abrupt end. We had felt perfect together, our bodies and minds melding as one in such a way that I had dared to believe I had at last found the one. Our connection was so profound that the inner numbness I’d felt for most of my life had finally lifted, allowing a deep love to touch my heart. We had parted cruelly, ending my long-sought after happiness.

  All that was left was that old familiar loneliness.

  The sound of rock music grew louder as I headed into the club, a musky aroma immediately assaulting my senses. I could smell the scent of spilled beer and spicy chicken wings. Upon the center stage danced a slim stripper wearing only a thong, her fake breasts jiggling and a faker smile hiding her boredom. Men stood around the stage, now and again sliding dollar bills into her thong. They were rewarded with flirty smiles as she bent over to show off her butt.

  The stripper found my gaze on her in the crowd and I politely gave a nod and then focused on finding my sister. Penelope was in a booth with her friend Mirabelle. I slid in and sat opposite them.

  “How did you know I was here?” Penelope asked. “Erwin?”

  Her driver had tipped me off but I wasn’t going to let her know that. “Gut feeling.”

  “Why are you here?” Penelope slurred her words.

  “We talked about this,” I shouted over the music. “I don’t like you coming to these places.”

  “You need to lighten up,” she said. “Wanna drink?”

  Fuck it. Actually I did.

  I gave a nod.

  “What do you want?” Penelope got the attention of a roaming waitress.

  “Scotch,” I mouthed.

  She made sure the waitress got my order. “On the rocks,” she told her.

  “Macallan,” I said.

  The waitress threw me a seductive look. “Sure.”

  I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be hanging out with Raquel at a restaurant or on a boat as we watched the dolphins swim beside us—or better still I’d prefer to be in bed gloriously fucking her.

  “How are you?” Mirabelle called over.

  “Fine.” It was all I could be bothered to say to her. She was a bad influence on my sister and I was exhausted from landing back at square one with that same conversation about her reckless behavior.

  My scotch was set before me and Penelope muttered something about putting it on their tab. I threw cash on the table anyway and then gave her an accusing glare.

  “No. I don’t do that shit anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Though her dilated pupils revealed she’d done a hit of something, and it was probably cocaine. She wasn’t just high on booze. Now wasn’t the time to threaten her with rehab.

  “Is it over?” she asked.

  “Is what over?” I leaned forward to hear her better.

  “That thing with our ex-employee.”

  “You mean Raquel?”

  “Yes.” She looked annoyed because to her it was obvious.

  I took a gulp of Scotch and it warmed my throat as it went down. “I couldn’t be more excited about our new formula.”

  “Me too. Glad that other stuff is behind us.” Penelope turned to Mirabelle. “Lots of drama at work.”

  “What?” Mirabelle shouted over the rave.

  “Problems at work,” repeated Penelope.

  “Something came up that I want to talk with you about,” I said. “I can’t find the formula you wrote for our new scent.” I held her gaze. “I need a breakdown.”

  She swallowed hard and that made my gut twist in doubt.

  “I have it in my office,” Penelope said. “Can we not talk about work?”

  I leaned forward to ask her another question.

  Penelope leaped to her feet and beamed at me. “I have a gift for you.”

  “Can I finish my drink?”

  “Bring it.”

  “Find somewhere we can talk.” I pushed mysel
f up and followed her, carrying my drink across the floor and through a doorway. We entered a private booth decorated with plush velvet seats and wispy red veils hanging here and there.

  “Sit there,” Penelope said, pointing. “I’ll be right back.”

  I threw back my drink and looked around for somewhere to set my glass, assuming she’d gone to the bathroom. Five minutes later, my sister walked back in followed by a stunning brunette.

  The woman bit her lip suggestively as she unhooked her bra, revealing natural tits, her nipples beading from the chill.

  She idled up to me with a flirtatious look in her eyes.

  “Whatever he wants,” said Penelope.

  “Sure.” The brunette sat beside me. “Lap dance?”

  I looked up at my sister. “I think we can take it from here.”

  Penelope flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder and laughed, glancing back at us as she walked out. “Have fun!”

  With my sister gone, I turned my focus on the stripper. “What’s your name?”

  “Tiffany.”

  “Your real name?” I smiled at her.

  “Do you want another drink? I can get you one.” She stood for a second to reposition herself on my lap, and then leaned forward to kiss me.

  I pressed my hand to her chest to stop her. “I’m seeing someone.”

  “They don’t need to know.” She went for my zipper.

  I gripped her wrists and my gaze rose to meet hers. “What perfume are you wearing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You smell great.”

  She licked her lips suggestively.

  “There’s something I would like you to do for me.” I grinned.

  She smiled. “Of course there is.”

  “Would you mind if I—” I reached into my jacket pocket and lifted out the bottle Penelope had given me. “May I?”

  She leaned back suspiciously. “What is it?”

  “Sniff.” I held it up to her nose.

  “Perfume?”

  “Yes. It’s something special I’m working on. Wear it and you’ll double your tips tonight. It’s that good.”

  She leaned back and pushed her breasts up to me in way of an invite.

  I wet the end of my finger with the liquid and dabbed it on Tiffany’s throat. Then I placed the scent beneath her armpits and streaked it across her belly. She grabbed my hand and made sure my fingertip found her erect nipples.

  “That feels so good.” She moaned. “God, it smells divine.”

  Her reaction made me feel a stab of guilt. This was ridiculous—Raquel and I were over and yet I felt this was betrayal in its rawest form.

  “What now?” she mouthed.

  “I need you to give the best lap dance of your life.”

  She smiled seductively. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” I eased her off my lap and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You do women, I take it?”

  “Of course.”

  She accepted the hundred dollar bills I handed her and scrunched them into her palm.

  “I’m a perfumer and this is part of my process.” For this, anyway.

  “But…what about you?”

  “I’m leaving. Don’t mention the perfume to my sister. If she asks its name tell her you can’t remember. Tell her you bought it at Walgreens. Then change the subject.”

  “That’s kind of weird.”

  “Five hundred dollars worth of weird. Are we on?”

  “Hell, you’ve made my job easy.”

  “Then we’re both happy.” I gave her a slight bow. “When’s your next shift?”

  “Tomorrow at noon. Why?”

  I turned and walked into the dimly lit hallway.

  Within a few minutes I’d left Penelope with Tiffany for a lap dance. Heading out, I gave my sister’s driver a wave of thanks as I passed his parked car, reassured he would get the women home safe. Walking over to my Range Rover, I raised my gaze to the horizon.

  The evening had brought glorious reds and oranges across a vanilla sky and I took a few seconds to admire the sunset. Bitterness from the aftertaste of that Scotch lingered, but it was nothing compared to the level of betrayal that surrounded me.

  And then, as I opened my palm and stared down at the Lalique bottle I’d found at Raquel’s shop, the same one I believed was Penelope’s, it dawned on me…if this was my sister’s then there shouldn’t be another bottle back in my office drawer.

  I leaped into my Range Rover and sped off toward The House of Beauregard.

  MY HATRED FOR DAMIEN HAD risen to an entirely new level.

  I drew in a sharp breath and reminded myself that screaming at him wasn’t going to get me answers. No, a cool and calm demeanor was best with him. Though I had failed at that the last time I had been to his home and faced off with Embry.

  She stole my fricking husband. I mean, what did she expect, flowers?

  Of all the people I could have entrusted with my ledger, I’d given it to him. The one person I should never have trusted.

  It all made sense now.

  I drove through the posh South Beach neighborhood once again, knowing now that I had paid for the privilege of Embry and Damien living here. He’d sold my formula to Penelope. Now that I had my ledger back with that page ripped out by him, he would soon find out I knew the truth.

  I parked my car in the driveway and rang the doorbell. Hearing footsteps approaching from the other side, I straightened my back ready to face off with the man who had betrayed me twice. He’d been the one to fake a break-in so he could steal my formula.

  He probably believed he had stripped my will to fight.

  Damien was wrong.

  The door opened and he stood there in ripped jeans and a tight T-shirt. I knew that smug expression. Years of marriage gives you the advantage when it comes to reading your man. He wasn’t mine anymore, and I almost felt sorry for Embry. I read culpability in him and he probably read my anger.

  “Hey.” He leaned forward to look out at the street, as though checking to see if there would be any witnesses to what was about to go down.

  “I need to talk with you.” With a gesture, I indicated I would rather speak inside.

  “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

  “It can wait.”

  “Great.”

  “I mean your shit can wait.” I barged by him and headed into the living room. “Is Embry here?”

  He walked toward me. “What do you want?”

  “I know what you did, Damien.”

  “What did I do?”

  “I asked you to look after my ledger and you tore the last page out. You tried to destroy evidence of my perfume.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Just so you know I took a snapshot of it on my phone. I still have it.”

  “Well, that’s good.” He sighed unconvincingly. “Look, it wasn’t me. There’s a lot of confusion and this storm—”

  “Cut your bullshit.”

  “Are you jealous?” He gestured around. “We’re living like this, and you can’t stand it.”

  “Where did you get the money for all this?”

  “Embry’s a TV celebrity. Endorsements, that kind of stuff.”

  “She told me the money came from you.”

  “Our financial situation has nothing to do with you.”

  “It does when you’re using my money.”

  “Did Astor Beauregard kick you to the curb? Is this why you’re so pissy?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “And how would you know that?” Had he talked with Penelope?

  He looked defiant. “He’s a successful businessman and he can have anyone. Why settle.”

  My jaw tightened at his cruelty.

  His expression became accusatory. “Embry told me you went through my office. What else did you steal?”

  “I only took what’s mine…minus th
e page you ripped out.” I folded my arms. “I know you sold my formula to The House of Beauregard.”

  “Did Astor tell you that?”

  “I found my ledger in Penelope’s office. Right before I gave it to you. I know you’re working with her. How much, Damien? How much did she pay you to betray me?”

  “Come on, sweetheart, you’ve been under a great deal of stress. You just found out your boyfriend is a murderer and—”

  “Don’t you dare…you don’t know what went on in that house.”

  “And you do?”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “If he has it, just ask for it back.” He glared at me. “But as your proof of concept is gone you may want to let this one go.”

  “How could you betray me again? We had some good years together, didn’t we?”

  “I need you to let me and Embry get on with our lives. No more turning up like this. It’s not good for anyone.”

  “Listen to me. I am not letting you get away with this.”

  “I’m going to make some tea.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We need to discuss this calmly.”

  Grinding my teeth in frustration, I glanced around to see the packing boxes were gone. They were settled in. Their new life had officially begun. Damien wanted this behind him and I knew how stubborn he was…how manipulative. It was a trait that had come out a year after we’d been married, but I had tolerated it back then and tried to act like the good wife. I had compromised all I’d held dear.

  What a revelation. I was finally over this asshole.

  Spending time with Astor had helped me move on. I wasn’t willing to let him walk out of my life. Not with the way it had ended, anyway.

  Or maybe, just maybe, there was no going back.

  Don’t think of him now.

  Don’t weaken your resolve.

  I stood my ground. “The cameras didn’t record during the theft. Only you knew I’d had them installed.”

  “I never came back to the store after our last argument.”

  “You mean the one where you delivered the forms for me to sign for us to sell the business? During that time, I know you reached into my handbag and removed the perfume I was going to take to Dazzle and Bazaar.”

  “Don’t blame me for your failures.”

  “That time the cameras were working, Damien.” I was bluffing, but I hoped it would convince him to tell the truth.