The Essence of Perfection

by Nita Brooks

  Worry flooded her system. She’d hurt him. Deeply. She’d seen it right before he’d walked out. She hurried back into her house and searched for her car keys. She’d follow him and apologize. Let him know she didn’t want them to end. Tell him that he wasn’t overinvested and that she cared about him just as much as he cared for her.

  She found her keys next to the pile of books on the table. Follow him. Get no work done. Find no solution. The weight of what she needed to do pressed down on her. Her fingers unclenched and the keys fell back on the table. She’d call him at the end of the week. She’d fix everything just as soon as she got through this week.

  Chapter 31

  Guilt got the better of Nicola and she went to Quinn’s house the next afternoon. She was no closer to finding a solution, but after getting three phone calls from clients asking if she knew about Quinn’s affair, the only thing Nicola cared about was making sure her sister was okay.

  She was reaching for the doorbell when the door swung open. Omar looked as startled to find her there as she was at having the door opened so suddenly. His normally congenial face was a mask of disgust.

  “I suppose you’re here to try and tell me why I shouldn’t leave your sister out in the cold.”

  The contempt in his tone snapped her out of things. “Actually, I think Quinn should leave you.”

  He scoffed. “Quinn leave me? You do realize she’s nothing without me?”

  She never wanted to hit another person in her life as much as she wanted to hit Omar. “She doesn’t need you for anything.”

  “Oh really? You’re suddenly her advocate,” he said with a raised brow. “We all know Quinn is nothing but a pretty face.”

  “I can’t believe you would talk about her like this. I thought you loved her.”

  Omar sneered. “And I thought she knew her place.”

  Nicola once believed he was handsome and nice, if slightly arrogant. The guy made millions managing a hedge fund, so of course he would be arrogant. She’d tried to like him because Quinn was married to him. Now she wished she’d let herself see him for the asshole he was and had urged Quinn to leave him. “Her place isn’t with you.”

  Quinn appeared behind Omar. “Nicola, what are you doing here? Stop talking about things you don’t understand.”

  Omar glanced over his shoulder. “Check your sister.” He turned back to Nicola, smirked, then pushed past her to stroll out the door and toward his car.

  Not believing what had just happened, Nicola went inside and faced her sister. “Check me? Is he serious? Please tell me that you’re leaving him.”

  Quinn sighed and rubbed her brow. She was dressed in an off-white jump suit. Her makeup was perfect, her hair in a loose braid down her back. “What are you doing here, Nicola?”

  Nicola closed the door behind her. “I came to check on you.”

  Quinn’s hand dropped. “Why?” She sounded as if she’d expect aliens to invade before Nicola would come to check on her.

  If she hadn’t heard the malicious curiosity in the voices of people calling her to get more of Quinn’s business, aliens probably would have invaded before she would have come over to face her sister.

  “Why?” Nicola said. “How can you even ask that? I’ve seen what they’re saying online about you and Omar. Our fight is all over the web, too. I came here to make sure you were okay. To see if you needed anything.”

  Quinn crossed her arms. “Oh, now you care?”

  “I’ve always cared. Can’t we move past what happened in Cancun? I’m sorry about checking your phone. I never should have invaded your privacy.”

  “What about I’m sorry for stealing your idea and not telling you.” Quinn rolled her eyes and walked away.

  Nicola hurried to follow. “I didn’t steal your idea.”

  Quinn went into her home office which was set up more like a photography studio. Natural light streamed in from the windows that overlooked the outside lanai. It’s where Quinn took many of the pictures she posted onto her social media. A rack filled with clothes people sent her to try and a bookshelf covered in various makeup, creams, and other items Quinn reviewed took up much of the space.

  Quinn sat on the edge of her desk and glared at Nicola. “You said that I came up with the way to fix the juice that became Triumph. Instead of telling me, you took credit for it. You stole my idea.”

  “You made a suggestion,” Nicola explained. “It worked out, but that doesn’t mean I stole your idea.”

  Quinn raised a brow. “Now your story is changing.” That is what happened. A change Quinn suggested when she’d been drunk and angry. A change that had led to perfection. A change that had Nicola questioning her abilities ever since. Something so simple that made such a huge difference. Why hadn’t she been able to see that? How could she really be good when she’d missed something so small?

  When Triumph became a hit, she’d chosen to keep Quinn’s suggestion to herself instead of admitting she hadn’t bottled perfection by herself. If she’d known that decision would have led them here, she would go back and admit the truth.

  “My story remains the same,” Nicola said evenly. She didn’t want this to turn into another fight. No matter what happened with Desiree’s scent, Nicola couldn’t let the rest of the week go by with Quinn believing she didn’t care what people said or that Nicola didn’t want what was best for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t admit your part, but that doesn’t mean I’m responsible for the decisions you made after. There’s still time to make things right. There’s still time for you to leave Omar.”

  “Why? To come work full time for Queen Couture? To be the pretty face of the company instead? What if I don’t want to leave Omar? What if I like my life the way it is?”

  Nicola didn’t believe her. Quinn was unhappy with Omar. She’d seen enough to know. Especially if she’d stepped out on him with another man. She’d only consider staying if Omar made concessions. Concessions Nicola doubted would be in Quinn’s best interest. “Are you saying he wants you to stay?”

  “I’m saying that we’re stronger together than we are apart. He’s realizing it won’t be so easy to leave me with everything as he thought. We can get through this and be stronger for it.”

  “But you’re not happy.”

  Quinn’s arms uncrossed, but her hands clenched the edge of her desk tight enough to lighten her knuckles. “I’m comfortable. We’ve built a brand that benefits my online presence and his client list. I’m good.”

  “Quinn—”

  “Stop.” Quinn jumped up and waved a hand. “You’re going to wow everyone in a few days with your latest creation and then your life will go back to being perfect. You don’t have to come check up on me. I can figure out what’s best for me.”

  The sureness in her sister’s voice was like a kick to the gut. Despite discovering how Triumph was made, and being mad, her sister still believed in her. “But that’s just it. I won’t wow everyone in a few days. I don’t—”

  Quinn’s cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Look, I’ve got work to do. You don’t have to check on me. Our fight was a finger snap of the attention span of the internet. In a few days everyone will have moved on.”

  She didn’t care about what the public thought. She wanted to make sure she and Quinn would be okay. “But I don’t want to leave things unsaid.”

  Quinn met her gaze with bold determination. “We both said everything we need to say. You do what’s best for you and I’ll do what’s best for me.” She answered her phone and turned her back to Nicola.

  Chapter 32

  Nicola had her epiphany. Brilliance struck her at two in the morning. Waking her immediately from her sleep. As her grandmother would have said, if the answer was a snake it would have bitten her it had been so close.

  Now, as she sat in the conference room of the Queen Couture offices with the rest of the creative team and Desiree’s entourage, anticipation buzzed through her like a million agitated
bees. She was going to nail this debut.

  Conversation hummed around the conference room table. The bottle designers, marketers, sales team, and lawyers were all having individual conversations. Conversations that all relied on her creation. She crossed her fingers beneath the table. Please, please, please let this mixture work. She needed a win after the week she’d just had. She could fix everything once this was done. Damien, Quinn, her own self confidence. All of it would be perfect once this was done.

  Finally, her mom knocked on the table and got everyone’s attention. Adele sat up straight and cleared her throat.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Adele said with a big smile. “As everyone here knows, we are very excited about the launch of Desiree’s first perfume. Love by Desiree will be one of the biggest hits of the spring perfume season. Desiree, thank you for trusting us at Queen Couture with your vision. After today, I hope we can look forward to future strong partnerships with you and your brand.”

  Everyone around the table clapped. Desiree pressed a hand to her chest and grinned graciously as she was applauded. “Thank you, Adele. I cannot wait to see what your team has come up with. A lot of larger houses approached me when I considered stepping into the realm of fragrances. Many of them with bigger clients and a larger reach, but from the start I knew I wanted to support a business with people who would understand me and where I was coming from. That’s why I chose Queen Couture.”

  Adele beamed. “Then let’s get to it. Nicola has brought the juice and we’re ready for your final approval.”

  Her mom looked at her with an expectant smile. Nicola’s hands sweated, and she ran them over her skirt before standing with the vial in her hand.

  “I have a small sample of the juice I created for Desiree.” Her voice was steady and strong. Not a hint of her inner nervousness. “When you came to me you asked for a fragrance that was as sexy as red lace panties, but as comfortable flannel pajamas. You wanted something that exuded sex appeal, everyday life, and contentment. The ‘essence of perfection’ I believe was how your briefing started. What I have here is a mixture that will give you all of those things.”

  Praying her hands didn’t shake, Nicola put a few drops on the square of linen paper in front of her. She walked over and placed the paper in Desiree’s outstretched hands. She then went back and put drops on other small pieces of paper for the rest of the creative team.

  She didn’t need to smell it. She’d spent the early morning hours putting this together. Knowing she was missing something but never being able to put her finger on what was missing. What had slapped her in the face in the middle of the night was cumin. The spice that also gave off the heady musk of sweat. Just the hint of sex and life the rose based scent needed.

  The creative team sniffed. Several people nodded. The gleam of pride brightened in her mom’s eyes. Murmurs of appreciation went around the table. Her heart rate picked up. Had she done it? Her late-night epiphany had been right.

  She wasn’t a fake or a phony. She really did know how to create a lasting and timeless fragrance. She was going to continue to elevate Queen Couture. Once Love by Desiree hit store shelves, Desiree’s millions of fans would flock to it. They’d wear this perfume for years even if Desiree never published another album, because it was timeless.

  She glanced at Desiree. Her lips pulled between her teeth to try and stop her smile of excitement. She would not gloat or bask in the sunshine until she got the final approval.

  Desiree had the paper to her nose. Her brows were drawn together. When she pulled the paper away, her shoulders stooped. The eyes that met Nicola’s weren’t excited, happy, or pleasantly surprised. Instead, the disappointment that had first sprung in Desiree’s eyes on Monday deepened.

  Nicola sank slowly back into her chair. “You don’t like it?” The question was spoken softly, but it was heard over the buzz of enthusiasm in the room.

  Desiree slowly placed the paper on the conference room table. “I wish I did. It’s just . . . not what I wanted.”

  Silence fell like an executioner’s blade over the room. Swift and heavy. Nicola barely stopped herself from rubbing a hand across her neck.

  “We’ve still got plenty of time before the launch,” Adele chimed in quickly. Leave it to her mom to not leave empty space for disaster to fall. “Nicola and our other perfumers can go back to the drawing board.”

  Desiree shook her head. “I don’t think so. I had reservations after the first sample Nicola created.”

  “What? I had no idea?” Adele’s eyes darted to Nicola.

  “I didn’t make a fuss. She promised she understood what I was getting at. Then earlier this week, I was still unimpressed. I’m sorry, but I think I’ll need to go somewhere else.”

  Nicola wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow her whole. She’d been sure she’d finally gotten it right. Instead, she’d been right all along. She wasn’t the best perfumer in the business. She was a fake.

  * * *

  Her mother ranted for at least an hour after Desiree’s team left. Gaston Demacy, a perfumer at IFH in New York, had apparently sent Desiree new samples she’d liked. Even Adele’s clever negotiation skills couldn’t convince Desiree to let them try again.

  Nicola wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and stay there for an eternity. She considered calling Quinn and asking her for advice, but after their talk earlier in the week she knew Quinn still didn’t want to see her. She thought about Shonda, but her friend had her kids for the week, and Nicola did not want to dump her problems on top of her friend’s other responsibilities.

  She found herself at Damien’s home. He hadn’t called her since she’d sent him away. She hadn’t called because she didn’t want to confirm that he didn’t want to give them a chance anymore. Popping up at your man, who might not be your man’s home, wasn’t the best idea, but she needed to see him. She needed to talk to someone about what was going on.

  He answered after she rang the bell. He wore sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His dreads hung loose around his shoulders. His chocolate brown eyes were aloof.

  “Hey,” she said with a hesitant smile.

  “What’s up?” he asked. No hint of warmth in his voice.

  “Can I come in?”

  He watched her for a second, then stepped back. She crossed the threshold and leaned in to hug him. Her efforts were thwarted when he turned to close the door.

  “What are you doing here, Nicola?” He walked further into the house.

  Not a good sign at all. She swallowed hard instead of backing down. “I told you I’d come by at the end of the week.”

  “Yeah, when you were ready to make time for me.” There was no bitterness in his voice. Just cold resignation. That hurt worse.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. I was really stressed out. I don’t know how to accept, you know, help from people when I get like that.”

  He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Mmmhmm.”

  “Anyway, we had the meeting today.”

  “And let me guess. It didn’t go so well.”

  She rubbed a hand over her face. How had he known? Did even he sense that she was a fake? “It went terrible. Desiree hated the scent. Some fancy perfumer at a large New York house is going to make her scent now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He actually did sound sorry. That was promising.

  “I don’t know what to do next.”

  “Did you ask anyone for help?”

  That left her momentarily speechless. “No, why would I?”

  He shook his head. The corner of his mouth raised. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe collaborating with someone, asking for help instead of trying to do everything yourself might have made this work.”

  “My job isn’t to ask other people to do my work for me,” she said defensively.

  “Asking for help doesn’t mean you don’t have what it takes to be successful. It just means you’re open to hearing new ideas.”

  She’
d confessed to him that day at the farmers market about her insecurities. At the time, she hadn’t thought he’d end up in a position to call her out on her insecurities. Her cheeks burned. “I didn’t tell you that so you could throw it back in my face.”

  “I’m not throwing this back in your face to be mean. I’m trying to point out that you’re so busy trying to prove you don’t need anyone that you’re screwing up everything you’ve built. Maybe letting people in, seeking their advice or assistance when you’re stuck isn’t such a bad idea.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She’d taken care of herself for this long. Handled her own hurt emotions and feelings of inadequacy. She didn’t need validation or support from others. Not when she’d been younger and not now.

  He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “What?”

  “You sound just like my ex-wife. I don’t need help. I can do all things on my own. You know it doesn’t hurt to be vulnerable. To open yourself up and let people in.”

  “I’m not that person.”

  “Only because you don’t want to be. You’d rather pretend to be strong for everyone else and push away people who love you in the process.”

  Love? Did he mean . . .

  No, she was reading too much into this. They may have agreed they would do the relationship thing, but he was adamant against marriage again. Which meant nothing serious would come from what they were doing.

  “Pushing people away is easier than hoping they’ll want to get close and being disappointed when they don’t,” she said with all the knowledge and disappointment she’d felt over the years when the people she cared about most hadn’t bothered to give her a second thought. All the times she’d heard “Nicola can take care of herself ” or “We don’t have to worry about Nicola, she’s not going to cause any problems.” Her life had been nothing but being ignored until she’d done something great, and even that hadn’t been done on her own.

  “I don’t wait around for validation or special attention,” she said. “I don’t because it’s not coming.”