Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

  Enough time to sabotage my meeting.

  No, I was tired and not thinking straight. He wanted the money I was meant to get from Dazzle and Bazaar, so there was no incentive for him to do something like that. I needed a break from all this stress and as soon as I finished this perfume I would be taking one. Right after I set another appointment with Anna Rosenthal at D & B, ready to make licensing this a reality.

  After carefully preparing the ingredients, I sat on a barstool with my ear buds in, shuffling songs on iTunes to keep the crashing and wailing outside at bay, and added each one carefully. Then I drew the Orris oil into a pipette.

  The work was time-consuming and hypnotic.

  I jolted when Astor’s arms wrapped around my waist. He pulled me back and I leaned against his chest, relaxing as he hugged me. I looked over my shoulder to see he was dressed in his own clothes again. “What’s the time?”

  “Eight. How’s it going?”

  “Almost there.” All I had to do was add the Orris. I nudged it aside so he wouldn’t see it.

  “Let me sniff?” he said.

  “I want you to experience the grand finale.”

  “Sounds enticing.” His lips brushed my neck. “Let’s eat.”

  “I just need a few more minutes.”

  “Come on, the food will get cold. You work too hard.”

  I slid off the barstool and let him weave his fingers through mine. This was where I had gone wrong with Damien…I had put my work before my relationship and that couldn’t happen again. This was me turning a new leaf and not being so obsessed that those around me were forgotten.

  Astor’s attention turned to the window. “Things are really kicking up out there.”

  He led me upstairs where he’d placed two plates on the countertop, ready for the ravioli bubbling on the stove.

  I only had one chair, so we resigned ourselves to sitting on my makeshift bed on the floor, and I marveled at how Astor was willing to rough it for me. The ravioli was delicious. This was soul food and I felt so much better already, my stomach full from the tasty tomato pasta dish.

  “Thank you for letting me stay at your place,” I said. “I’m going to find somewhere soon.”

  He looked surprised. “You’re always welcome in my home, Raquel.”

  “Things change so fast. One minute I was living in a home I loved and then suddenly I couldn’t stay there anymore. Damien refused to leave and, to be honest, there were too many memories.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I miss my books. Don’t have room for them here. They’re in storage along with some pieces of furniture I couldn’t let go of. Damien kept the rest.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But can we not talk about him?”

  “Sure, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “I just want to talk about us, Raquel.”

  I nodded. “I bet you have a great collection of books at Bridgestone.”

  He looked thoughtful. “When I was a kid I used to hide out in the library. I found this old book with photos of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. That was the first time I discovered that life really is full of contradictions.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Many of those paintings on the Vatican ceiling are of female Sibyls, who were ancient oracles. Michelangelo revered them for their ability to predict the future. And yet later, women were burned alive as punishment by that same church for supposedly having that same gift.”

  “How did you discover that so young?”

  “Like you said, we had a great selection of books.” He looked at me with a smile. “It was the best thing about the house.”

  “I never thought of how the church turned on itself like that.”

  “Well, it’s a male-dominated society.” He gave a shrug. “That’s why children are confused. We send mixed messages.”

  “You don’t seem too fond of that house?”

  Astor stared at me. “How do you mean?”

  “Why did you leave there when you were so young?”

  He hesitated. “After my dad died my mom thought it best I live in a country with a culture that ran in my blood.”

  “Astor,” I encouraged softly.

  He broke my gaze. “I don’t remember much. Not really.”

  “Have you blocked the memories out?”

  His expression was conflicted.

  “How did your dad die?”

  Astor’s somber gaze held mine. “Under tragic circumstances.”

  “How do you mean?”

  He sighed. “My past is my past. I leave it there.”

  I reached up and cupped his face. “Did he hurt you?”

  “He destroyed everything in his wake.” Astor looked away. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Okay, um, tell me something about you I don’t know.” I got up and carried our plates over to the sink.

  Astor pushed himself up. “What are you curious about?”

  “That’s not how it works. Go on, impress me.”

  “I once went scuba diving in Egypt’s blue hole. It’s one of the most dangerous places you can choose to dive.”

  “Are you an adrenaline junkie?”

  “I was twenty. I’d just come back from England and was reckless. I hadn’t seen my family in a long time. I was working through a lot. I missed England and yet I wanted to be home. I didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere. I bought the place on the beach you stayed in and that helped a lot. I prefer it.”

  “Why didn’t you come home for a visit while you were in England?”

  “I was discouraged from doing so.”

  I frowned at the cruelty of it. “Do you feel like South Beach is your real home now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you happy?”

  Astor went to speak but couldn’t seem to form the words.

  “Oh, Astor.”

  “You lost your mom, too, right?”

  “Yes, while I was in my first foster home with Mrs. Clark.” I spoke her name fondly, because she had been kind despite me not being her own child. “I was sent to live with her because of the incident that drew attention to how my mum wasn’t caring for me properly. I was taken away from her. That was the last time I saw my mother before she died.”

  “I’m sorry, Raquel.” His tone carried sympathy.

  I still felt guilty about the incident in our garden shed. I had brought it on myself. Had I stayed quiet and not gone out as my mother had wanted, I would have been with her at the end. Instead, she died alone in that old house because of me.

  I gave him a sad smile filled with regret. “I was making perfume in the shed. I was nine years old and not meant to be in there.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was stung by a bee. I’m allergic to them.”

  “That could have been fatal.” He looked concerned. “Do you carry an EpiPen in case you’re stung again?”

  “Always.”

  “Someone found you, obviously. I’m guessing it wasn’t your mom.”

  “I was found unconscious and barely hanging onto life by a neighbor who had seen me go in there. They carried me out and called an ambulance. All the while my mum was asleep upstairs.”

  “Thank goodness for nosy neighbors.”

  “This one saved my life.”

  “What was it like growing up in foster care? Did you ever get adopted?”

  “No.”

  “Isn’t that how it’s meant to happen?”

  “Yes. I always hoped that someday someone would come and save me.”

  “Let me save you,” he said softly.

  “Not sure I need saving now.”

  “What about you?” he said. “Tell me something about you I don’t know.”

  “I just did.”

  He shook his head. “Something that makes you happy.”

  I rested my hands on my hips. “Would you believe I can salsa dance?”

  “Really?”

  “Really and truly
.”

  Joy flashed across Astor’s face and then he grabbed his phone and scrolled through it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  The song “Havana” blared out of his iPhone, its beat enough to have me swinging my hips and laughing at what he was suggesting.

  Astor was going to dance with me right here in the midst of a storm.

  He moved to the tempo with an expert swing. “Ready?”

  I laughed. “I was born ready.”

  All those lessons hadn’t gone to waste.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and swung me around and around. Then he suddenly let go and we were mirroring each other with the sexy dance moves, stepping fast, our feet moved in sync with each other. He grabbed me again and swung me around and around as we dodged the mattress, dancing wildly around the room.

  “Wow,” he called out. “You have rhythm.”

  “But we already knew that,” I shouted over the music.

  “Ha! Yes we did, Raquel.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Beauregard.”

  He showed me some sensual new steps. “Try this.”

  “I can do that.”

  Astor danced effortlessly. This was Havana in Astor’s blood…its culture, history, and everything that was rich and wonderful about Cuba that ran through his veins. I loved this about him so much because it made him exotic and alluring. He was everything wonderful that my world had been missing.

  He was behind me now, moving slowly, seductively, and I let him lead me as the music soaked into my body and we became one.

  Astor spun me around and cupped my face, kissing me hard and then staring into my eyes. “Be mine, Raquel, no matter what.”

  I fell against him and crushed my lips to his.

  Astor lifted me and lowered us both onto the mattress while the storm raged outside and the Cuban music flowed around us. It was beautiful and romantic and we hurried to undress—both of us tearing off our clothes. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, wanted to kiss him everywhere, and most of all I wanted to believe that this was pure and real and everything that I had once dreamed a relationship could be. The way he looked at me convinced me he cared, the way he spoke my name as he reached around to unclip my bra and set my breasts free so that his mouth could lavish affection on each nipple, nipping and biting, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I wanted to lick him all over and this made me laugh.

  “What?” He stopped to look at me.

  “You’re just so gorgeous, Astor. I feel so lucky.”

  “If there’s any doubt about how I feel about you. This bed proves I’m willing to go to hell and back.”

  Then he began speaking Spanish, the words flowing sweetly, sounding romantic and dreamy—even though he was probably just saying how much he hated my bed.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “I told you how I feel about you.” He beamed at me. It was another one of those drop-dead gorgeous smiles that would have melted my panties off if I’d been wearing any.

  “Are you going to translate for me, please?”

  “I’m going to show you.”

  How had I ever walked away from him? Right now, this second, I couldn’t fathom how I had had the strength to place my happiness over his. I loved this man more than life itself—and I had been too blinded by ambition to see it…too stuck in my old ways to understand what he meant to me.

  When he thrust into me, I arched my back and shuddered beneath his power, never wanting to be parted—as though it were possible to hold back time, hold on to him forever.

  We came together violently, enraptured, and during those minutes of him just looking down at me with his hands on either side of my body, I felt as though love was passing between us.

  It seemed that we made love for hours, him waking me and taking me again. And then it was my turn to awaken him, scooting down the mattress to suckle his cock until both he and his erection stirred and we went at it again—two lovers unable to keep our hands off each other.

  And in those passing moments, all the pain, all the hurt, all the betrayal and fear slipped away and all I was left with was peace. Even the storm was giving up its fight.

  Astor turned his head toward the window, frowning. “Did you hear that?” He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

  “What?”

  “Howling?”

  “The wind?”

  “It sounded like an animal.” He got up and stared out at the pouring rain.

  “Come back to bed.” I tapped the mattress.

  “No, listen.” He started to get dressed.

  “What is it?”

  I reluctantly got dressed, too, and followed him downstairs.

  “Are you going out?” I was surprised that something had gotten him so worried. “Be careful, okay?”

  Astor hesitated by the front door. “My coat’s still wet? I’ll just have to brave it.” He stepped out, raising a hand to shield his face against the gusting wind and rain. “It’s coming from over there.”

  “Hold on, I’m coming with you.”

  “Stay inside.” Astor hurried away.

  I stood in the doorway and watched him go, reluctant to lose sight of him. Rain battered my face but I didn’t care, I just wanted him to be safe out there. Flying debris was a real hazard.

  He knelt behind a car and tried to coax something out from beneath it.

  I looked back into the store wishing I had brought towels down with us. Astor was getting soaked to the skin again.

  He headed back toward me holding the collar of a dog. As they drew closer I could see it was some kind of hound with a long nose and floppy ears. The animal was cowering and kept glancing up at Astor as though aware he was being saved.

  Astor pulled him into the store. “Sorry about the mess.”

  I stepped back and closed the door behind them. “It’s fine, of course.”

  The dog shook his body and water spattered us both, making us laugh.

  I knelt to pat the dog. “Hello, boy, what’s your name?”

  His tail wagged with happiness.

  Astor ran his fingers along the collar, at the same time fighting off a lick from the animal. “There’s no tag. He might be chipped. He’s still a puppy.”

  “How can you tell?” He looked big to me.

  “No plaque on his teeth. They don’t get that until they’re a year old.”

  “Did you have a dog once?”

  Astor stared up at me. “Yes, I had to leave him behind when I was sent to Cuba.”

  It made me cringe to think they had done such a thing to him.

  “I loved that dog. He was a Labrador.”

  “What was his name?”

  Astor shrugged and focused on the wet hound. “Maybe someone’s reported him missing.”

  I rubbed my hand over the dog’s damp head. “His owner must be worried sick.”

  “Let’s get him some water and dry him off.”

  We led him into the back of the store and Astor found a dish and filled it with water. I grabbed towels and within a few minutes we had a much drier dog.

  It was fun to watch Astor playing with him. It was one of the things I loved the most about him—the way he loved animals and the lengths he’d go to in order to save them.

  I made us tea and we let the dog run loose to explore the place and give him time to feel safe again. Astor and I sipped our drinks in the front of the store while sitting on the chaise lounge watching him sniff around. Every now and again he’d come over to us for a pat on the head.

  “He’s adorable,” I said.

  “I’m going to call him Caine.”

  I laughed. “As in Hurricane?”

  Astor’s gaze held mine. “Maybe he’ll be our first dog?” He leaned toward me and grabbed my waist, pulling me into him. “Maybe we can give him a forever home.”

  “Don’t get too attached. Someone might claim him.”

  “I’m already a goner.”

  He kissed me a
nd I smiled against his lips. “Umm… let me think of what might suit him. He looks like a Pooky-Boo.”

  “Let him keep some of his pride, at least.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he does become ours?” I rested my head against Astor’s shoulder. “And the way we found him, too.”

  He agreed with a nod. “He looks hungry.”

  “I’ll go find something for him to eat.”

  Astor pressed his lips against my throat, making me tingle, and making me feel reluctant to break away from him. But I hurried up the staircase and found some chicken that would be okay for Caine to eat. It wasn’t perfect but it would tide him over until we could buy some proper dog food. I chopped it up into little pieces and carried it downstairs in a cereal bowl.

  When I made it back to the front of the store, I placed the dish on the ground and looked around for Astor and the dog.

  They were gone.

  I looked for them in the lab and when I didn’t see them I wondered if Astor had taken Caine outside to use the bathroom. I didn’t like the idea of them being out there and hurried into the front of the store to check on them.

  Oh, God…

  I stared at the open drawer of the corner cabinet and my flesh chilled with the realization, hurrying over to see that the small ampoule of my perfume was missing.

  Astor had found it.

  I bolted toward the front door and felt a stab of fear when I saw Astor putting Caine in the backseat of his Range Rover.

  “Astor!” My heart shattered into a thousand pieces when he looked back at me with a stricken expression.

  I ran out not caring about the door being left open. “Where are you going?”

  “The worst is over.” He gestured around him. “Time for me to get going.”

  I held his gaze. “You found my bottle, didn’t you?”

  He dropped his gaze, and when it rose again to meet mine I saw the accusation in his eyes. His look of pain was too much to bear…it was as though his agony was mine.

  “Astor. It’s the same formula that was stolen from me.”

  “I let you in.”

  “I need more time to prove—”

  “I wish you all the best.” He opened the driver’s door.

  “Wait, please, give me the chance to prove what I’m saying is true.”

  Astor shrugged. “You had me there for a while, Raquel. God, you’re good at this.”