“Please hold.”
A few seconds later, Patrice heard heavy breathing on the line. She figured it was Garrison doing something else not realizing the call had connected.
“Mr. Bingham,” she said.
“Oh, yes, Patrice. I’m going to send over the contract but I wanted to talk to you about the type we created for Ms. Simpson.”
Patrice had no idea that it wouldn’t just be a straightforward contract. She twisted her mouth to one side in confusion before answering. “I thought this wouldn’t be a complicated situation, Mr. Bingham.”
“It’s not if you don’t let it. Now, I want you to listen to me.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“I spoke with Angela’s attorney and he said that she will agree to do promotional appearances and marketing campaigns to market the fragrance when her schedule permits.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s good. You have to remember celebrity fragrances are big business nowadays. You have to sign a confidentiality agreement. I believe that Angela really wants this to be a success and she has confidence that you can do it.”
Patrice felt honored that Angela put that much faith in her because she could have gone anywhere else to have it done. “Okay, Garrison, so send over the contract and I’ll read it so that I understand how this works.”
“This is our first venture, my dear, but if it takes off, it won’t be the last. I’m proud of you,” he said.
“Thank you. I’ll check my email shortly. Do you want me to come to your office to sign the papers?”
“Only if there is something in the contract that you question or don’t understand, then yes. Otherwise, you can sign it electronically if you agree to the terms.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Patrice said before she cut off the call.
Getting up from her chair, she moved swiftly out of the room and down the hall to talk to Jacques.
Peeking into the lab, she waited before going in. She wanted to watch him work. He’d donned a white lab coat and was sitting down on one of the stools, going over what looked like some notes.
Opening the door as quietly as she could, she stepped inside and looked around. Jacques had been busy rearranging the lab the way he liked it. At first, Patrice didn’t care for the placement of the equipment but she couldn’t complain about it. He was coming to assist her with something she knew nothing about except for what she saw on the surface.
Jacques must have heard her when she came in because he turned around. “I hope you’ve got some good news for me.”
Patrice watched him, noticing that there was definitely something different about him. He had more of a peppy bounce in his voice and he seemed genuinely more excited. This was a side she’d never seen in him.
She walked over to him and sat on the stool beside him. “Yes, I actually just got off the phone with my attorney. He is sending over the contract now,” she said.
“Did he say if he could foresee any problems with it?” Jacques asked.
“No, he said that everything is fine. He just wanted me to know the details so that I could have a good understanding from the beginning. I wanted to go over it with you.”
“Of course,” Jacques said before going back to his task.
Patrice glanced at his notebook. “So how long have you kept a notebook like that? I have several similar in my office desk drawer.”
Jacques lifted the small spiral-topped bound book in the air. “These little things are a life saver.”
“What are you mixing up here?” Patrice asked, watching him take several drops of liquid from one vial and placing it into another, marrying them together.
“Remember I told you that I had something that Angela would possibly like?”
“Yes.”
“Most of it is already here,” he said, flipping the notebook flap up. “It’s a simple formula that I came up with a long, long time ago. We just need to tweak it a bit and we could have ourselves a winner.”
Patrice was impressed with how quickly he’d completed the task. “I can’t believe we have a fragrance already.”
Jacques patted her arm. “No, babe, we have the formulation for the scent. We still have a lot to do with this to make it just right.”
Patrice’s jubilation was short lived after Jacques’s last statement. She’d heard that it took months sometimes years to create a fragrance. They didn’t have that kind of time. “I know I keep asking you this, but do you think we’re going to make our deadline?”
“I think you should smell this,” he said, picking up a slim piece of paper and dipping it into a small brown bottle. After he removed it, he waved it in the air for a few seconds so that some of the alcohol would evaporate. He then moved it past Patrice’s nose.
It was a rich, silky, and lovely, but a familiar fragrance. She grabbed his hand, placing the strip underneath her nose once again. “Did you mix formulations? I smell jasmine and roses.”
Jacques smiled. “I added a droplet of the jasmine absolute and rose tea oil to the formula I already had. I’m not sure I like it.”
“I think it’s lovely but it doesn’t say sensual.”
Jacques dropped the strip into a long tray. “See, that’s why I said this is going to take some time. Even though you liked the smell, you don’t see this saying Angela Simpson.”
Patrice shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
Jacques kissed her on the mouth, surprising her with the gesture. “Your nose isn’t only cute, it’s almost perfect.”
Patrice tried to joke around with him by patting her nose with her fingertips. “My nose is the same as always.”
Jacques shook his head. “I don’t mean physically. I’m talking about when it comes to scents, fragrances and notes.”
Patrice opened her mouth. “Oh,” she said, then snapped it shut. She was sort of embarrassed.
“Babe, I’m going to get the lab cleaned up and then go home so I can get ready for the game. I’ll call you when I’m leaving my sister’s apartment.”
“I’ll be ready, I promise,” she said, watching Jacques place the notebook in the pocket of his lab coat. “You aren’t going to leave that information here in the lab are you?”
“No,” he answered.
“Good, then I won’t have to worry about someone breaking in and taking it or something. We’re not a fancy lab with high-tech security equipment.”
Jacques frowned. “Even the most extravagant labs can be robbed,” he said, standing.
After seeing the slight frown on Jacques’s face, Patrice got the distinct impression that she’d said something wrong. Jacques had probably seen labs twice the size of hers, but she couldn’t imagine why he would be upset about her statement. She did, on the other hand, wonder why he replied the way he had. She realized that she had a lot to learn about Jacques Germain.
“I’m getting out of here,” Patrice said, walking to the door. “I’m going to check to be sure I received Garrison’s email.”
As Patrice made her way back to her office, she was grateful for all the progress that they’d made in a short amount of time. She didn’t want to tell Jacques but she was confident that they would make their deadline. Now, she needed to start the conversation with her sister Renee so they could get marketing, design of the bottle and graphic design work completed. That way once they finished one thing, they could move to the next.
Chapter Twelve
Driving back to his sister’s apartment, a satisfied smile grew on Jacques’s face as he thought about how excited Patrice seemed to be about their progress. He was enthusiastic about the prospect of helping to make Patrice’s dream come true. The addition of perfume to her product line would catapult her business into another field of flavors and fragrances. He felt that it would expand her customer base and the Good Scents brand.
Once the fragrance was made, they could come up with different collections of lotions, scrubs, shower gel and bubble bath, making it a very lucrative campaign. Not to mention, the idea of launching on Valentine’s Day would take it over the top.
He hoped that Patrice had a great marketing team in mind to take care of social media and advertising. Jacques’s only job was to make it smell pretty.
The one thing in the back of his mind was her needing distribution of the product. They hadn’t discussed that element of the plan. He could reach out to people that he knew in the industry now since the whole mess with Fairchild was over. He hadn’t seen anything else about it in social media or on the blogs, but that didn’t mean anything. If Roger saw the articles, he could have possibly had them taken down.
Now that the contract had been at least reviewed by Patrice’s attorney, he felt comfortable continuing the work. This would be the first time since he started at Fairchild that he created something that was solely independent of them.
A few minutes later, Jacques was unlocking the door to his sister’s condo and was surprised when he walked in to find Cecelia sitting on the couch in the living room drinking a glass of white wine.
“What’s up with you?” he asked as he approached the white leather sofa. Looking at her posture, his concern grew quickly.
“Trying to unwind,” Cecelia replied.
Jacques sat next to her, keeping his eye on her, watching her mannerisms. She wasn’t telling him the truth. He hadn’t seen her moping around drinking since he’d arrived. She was hardly ever home.
Brushing her long dark hair away from her face so that he could see her eyes, he moved closer. “What’s really going on, Cee Cee?”
Cecelia closed her eyes and Jacques could see the pain in her face. “You can tell me anything. You know that,” he whispered as he stroked her hair in an effort to comfort her.
Cecilia laid her head against him. “I broke up with my boyfriend last night,” she said simply.
“Your boyfriend? You’ve never mentioned him to me. What happened, Cee Cee?”
Cecelia sat up, scooted to the edge of the sofa, picking up the bottle, pouring more wine in her glass. She twisted her body so that she could face him. Sitting Indian style on the sofa, she looked up at Jacques. He was waiting for her to give him an explanation.
“I wasn’t ready for you to meet him because I didn’t think you would approve.”
Jacques jerked back. He hadn’t realized that he was that critical of the guys she went out with in the past. “If you felt that would be my reaction, you knew he wasn’t right for you in the first place,” he said.
When Cecelia was a teenager he tried not to be hard on her. But because he wanted her to be strong and not be vulnerable to every man with broad shoulders and a nice haircut, he had a set of standards. He checked out the guys carefully, until he moved away.
In the six years that he’d been living in New York, Cecilia had never once mentioned a steady man in her life. Every time Jacques would ask she would say that there was nobody special and that she didn’t want to be tied down.
“Do you think you guys are finished for good?” Jacques wanted to know. He reminded himself that women processed situations differently than men. Maybe Cecilia was just in her feelings about a spat they had. He just hated seeing her go through it.
She shrugged.
Jacques wished that their grandmother were there because she could better address the situation and help his sister. But, Annabelle Germain had so many health issues now it was better for her to live in a state with a warmer climate. “Have you spoken with G-Ma?”
“Yes, I hung up with her right before you came in.”
Jacques stood. He had no idea what to say next. Cecilia wouldn’t tell him what happened and he didn’t feel comfortable asking.
“Where are you going?” Cecilia asked.
“I’m taking Patrice to a Bulls game.”
“Don’t they play your beloved Knicks tonight?”
“Yes, I’m going to hate to see them lose, but oh well,” Jacques said jokingly.
“Okay, don’t get chased to the Knicks side,” Cecelia said, standing. “People here in Chicago are just as serious about the Bulls as you New Yorkers are about the Knicks.”
“I’ll try to be cool,” Jacques said, walking toward his room with her following behind him.
“What are you going to wear?”
“Clothes,” he replied, sarcastically.
His sister immediately punched him in the arm. “Stop playing. Seriously. I know you and you can’t wear a bow-tie and vest to a basketball game.”
Stepping into the huge walk-in closet, he scanned all the clothes hanging on the racks. He wasn’t much of a casual dresser and liked to wear nice slacks, starched and pressed shirt, with shiny cufflinks, and a bow tie under the lab coat he wore every day. There was something about getting up in the morning, putting on his best that made him feel good.
“You don’t have a single pair of jeans do you Jacques?”
“I left them in New York,” he responded. He told her the truth. He had left the one lonely pair of jeans he owned hanging in the closet.
“Do I have to wear jeans? I really don’t like the way they fit me,” he said, turning around, slamming into his sister, who was standing right behind him.
“Ew, that was too much information,” she said, taking a few steps back.
“Why are you in here anyway?”
“I don’t want you to mess this date up by arriving at her place looking like a preppy boy from the 1980s.”
Jacques tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself, watching his sister’s animated facial expressions. He pushed her forehead with his forefinger. “Get out of my closet, Cee Cee.”
Cecilia raised her eyebrows. “I’m just trying to help you.”
Jacques shook his head. “No you’re not. You’re trying to throw shade.”
Cecilia raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay,” she said, backing out the closet. “I’m leaving but one more thing,” she said, holding up her finger.
Jacques folded his arms across his chest. “Out with it, Cee Cee.”
Cecilia walked around him and sorted through his things, pulling out a pair of steel gray slacks, a shirt and a pair of shoes. “Since you don’t have any jeans and I don’t have time to go with you to get any, I’d wear this,” she said, handing all the items to him.
Looking down at the brown, gray and blue combination he nodded in agreement. “Thank you, baby sis.” He was so tempted to pull out a bow tie but he didn’t want to look out of place.
Cecilia bowed in front of him. “You’re welcome. Have a great time.”
Jacques happened to glance at the time. “Let me hurry so I can get out of here.”
Jacques watched Cecilia as she left the room. He was sure that she didn’t know that he was watching her and the way her shoulders slumped as soon as she passed through the threshold of the doorway. Hopefully she would mend her relationship with her boyfriend or move on. He didn’t like seeing her always-chipper self be sad. He just wanted her to be happy.
* * * * *
Jacques and Patrice had a great time at the basketball game. Just as he suspected, the Bulls lost to the Knicks by eight points. Patrice made Jacques promise that he wouldn’t tease her about it as they walked arm-in-arm to his rental car. He opened the door for her and she stepped inside. They stopped and picked up a pizza from Pizzeria Uno before heading back to her place.
Jacques parked the car and walked around to the other side and opened the door. “Let me take that from you,” he said, reaching for the piping hot pizza Patrice was holding in her lap.
After she handed it to him, she climbed out of the car and opened her purse. “Let me find my keys,” she said, walking toward the entrance of her apartment bui
lding.
“You know this will be the first time you’ve had me over to your place,” Jacques said as they walked inside the outer doors of the complex.
Patrice leaned against him for a moment. “Don’t get used to it either.”
Jacques chuckled. “You’ve got jokes, woman. You should have been a comedian.”
“Ha, ha,” Patrice said.
As Patrice unlocked the door to her apartment she thought more about Jacques’s statement regarding his coming over. She wanted to spend some time with him, get to know him beyond the business they were doing together. He intrigued her and she wanted to see what made him tick. He was a great kisser and she daydreamed what it would be like if they got beyond that. Of course she realized that she shouldn’t be thinking such things but a girl couldn’t help but wonder.
She held the door open to her apartment until he got inside. “Come on in,” she said, pulling the key from the lock. “You can put the pizza on the counter,” she said to him. “Let me take your coat,” she said, removing her own, waiting for him to give his to her. “You know I haven’t been to a Bulls game in forever,” she said, closing the door to the closet.
“It was a nice change of pace,” Jacques said, following her into the kitchen.
Patrice reached up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the counter. “Would you like a glass of wine to go with the pizza?”
“Sure,” he said. “Where are we going to eat?”
“Why don’t we have our own little indoor picnic,” she suggested, removing the bottle from the fridge.
It had been a long time since Patrice had a man in her apartment, so she wanted to savor this experience because she didn’t know when it would happen again. To someone else sharing a pizza and a bottle of wine on the floor of her apartment might have been a cheap date but Patrice was going to cherish the moment.
“Come on,” she said, tucking the bottle of wine under her arm. She reached up in the cabinet and pulled out a jar of parmesan cheese, picked up the glasses and headed for the living room.
Be My Valentine: The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 3 Page 11
