Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

  “I need to add the Orris oil.”

  “From the bottle you stole from me?”

  Stunned, I realized I’d just given away the final ingredient of the scent’s formula. Astor’s expression became unreadable.

  He clenched his jaw. “How much did they pay you?”

  Unable to bear the thought that he suspected me of betraying him, all I could do was squeeze back tears. After all we’d shared and all we had done together, our passionate lovemaking that still had my body thrumming from his touch…

  Yet all this time I had doubted him, too.

  I held my hands together as though in prayer. “You think I stole it? I would never…”

  He climbed into the Range Rover.

  I ran over and rested my palm on his window. “Astor, you must believe me.”

  The engine roared to life.

  “Step back,” he mouthed.

  I took several steps away from the curb and pressed my hand to my chest to ease the agony I was feeling as I watched him pull away and speed off. Drenched from the rain, I realized for the first time that I didn’t care about that scent at all.

  Being with Astor had been enough.

  All my life I had been trying to replicate that feeling of home…and for the first time I had felt it with him.

  Once again, I’d let happiness slip through my fingers. I’d lost everything.

  I KEPT MY FOCUS ON the road ahead, checking for debris in the path of my car and looking out for any animals that might need rescuing. The storm had left chaos around me—though this wasteland was nothing to how I felt inside.

  I’d become vulnerable, ignored the warning signs that Raquel had another motive. I’d let my guard down and allowed her to get close. I’d welcomed her into my inner circle and she’d taken full advantage of my kindness.

  Another hard lesson… Trust no one.

  I searched for a distraction by listening to a business podcast and speaking to Caine, who was panting away on the backseat with his tail wagging.

  An hour into our journey, I stopped off at a pet store to buy a few supplies for him. He needed a leash, food bowls, and a couple of toys to chew on as I drove us to the other side of the state. And we both needed to stretch our legs.

  I planned to make inquiries about his ownership once I got home. Right now, this guy was keeping me company because that familiar loneliness had started to seep back into my soul. The same kind of loneliness I used to deny existed.

  Before her. This betrayal felt like the cruelest strike.

  I needed a reminder of how much she had wronged me so that I didn’t turn this damn car around. Tapping my coat pocket, I felt the ampoule. One whiff of that formula and the truth had come tumbling out.

  Somehow, she’d stolen that perfume from the House of Beauregard.

  Raquel’s deceit was unbearable because I had gotten closer to her than I had anyone else. She’d used my affection for her own ends…used it to infiltrate The House of Beauregard—and it had been me who had invited her in.

  The journey back to South Beach was a blur.

  The last place I wanted to be was Bridgestone. The origin of all my nightmares and the place I’d first met her. Still, I had responsibilities I couldn’t ignore.

  I parked my Range Rover in front of the manor and climbed out, gazing toward the stables and wanting to head over to them and check on my horses. I couldn’t wait to see how they’d faired, especially Vedado. He was temperamental—any loud noises startled him and I hated the fact I’d not been here with him.

  Still, as I looked over at the house, guilt made me a dutiful son. I should check on Mom.

  I opened the back door and leaned in to attach the lead to Caine’s collar. With one light tug he leaped out of the car to join me. With the dog by my side, I took my usual route around the back of the vast manor, soon reaching the windblown garden with its ocean view beneath the dusky sunshine. The affects of the storm were minimal here, though a few larger plants had been pulled up by the roots.

  Caine raised his leg and peed on a corner patch of flowers. I glanced up at the house to make sure no one caught it.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the ampoule and again opened the stopper, breathing in the familiar scent and realizing my joy over its magnificence was spoiled. I’d been passionate over all the possibilities of what we could do with it, and now that excitement was tainted. I would have to choose my words carefully when I explained all of this to Penelope. She was so fragile I knew the thought of losing her precious scent would upset her. I had exposed my family to this…

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and made the call.

  “Mrs. Beauregard’s residence,” Arthur answered in his clipped British accent.

  He’d served as my mom’s butler for over ten years and was now a part of this place.

  “It’s Astor. Can you have my mother meet me in the garden, please?”

  “I’ll be right there, sir.”

  The call dropped and I stared at my phone. Then I saw him at the back door working the lock.

  “Hello, sir,” he called over. “I’m afraid your mother’s feeling a little under the weather.” He gave a thin smile. “No pun intended. Are you able to visit her in her room?” From his look of sympathy Arthur knew he was asking no small thing.

  Entering that house was a nightmare I wasn’t prepared for. Not today anyway… not after the disaster that had left me emotionally spent.

  With a tight jaw I turned and stared out at the water. “I should probably check on the horses.”

  “She’d love a visit, sir. She hasn’t been out of bed in days.”

  Balling my hands into fists, I reassured myself this was nothing I couldn’t handle. It was just a house and I shouldn’t allow bricks and mortar to have that kind of power over me. With that logic burning up my brain I gave a nod and headed inside.

  “You have a new dog?” Arthur stared down at Caine with affection. “Some kind of hound?”

  “I found him running loose in the storm.” I offered the leash to Arthur. “May I ask you to get him some water?”

  “Of course, sir.” Arthur beamed as he escorted me to the foot of the sweeping staircase.

  “I can find my own way,” I said.

  He hovered and then leaned down to pat Caine’s head. I suspected it was Arthur’s way of making sure I was okay to go on alone. He knew I hated this place and at times I suspected he knew why. I waited for him to walk away before I swiped my brow with my sleeve and returned my gaze to the staircase.

  On the way up my hand gripped the banister too tight and I had to take a few seconds to calm my racing heart.

  This is ridiculous.

  It had all happened decades ago. Yet as soon as I made it to the top step and faced in the direction of what was still my mother’s bedroom, even after all this time, all that had unfolded in that room came rushing back…

  I saw the blurred figure of a boy running along the hallway—me.

  Like a ghost heading out of the shadows, I recognized myself at the age of thirteen, bolting down the wide hallway where I stood now…a young boy drenched in terror as he ran towards that room.

  I wouldn’t have taken another step had it not been for my mother needing to see me and me needing to know she wasn’t as sick as Arthur had indicated.

  The boy ran into that room ahead of me.

  Don’t go in…

  With each step, each breath, I was reminded that I’d not entered this house for decades. Yet I sensed I’d never left, not really…these walls still held me hostage as though the vines clinging to them were choking me, preventing a part of me from ever leaving.

  A burst of lemon air freshener hung in the air. The red carpet was hardly worn from the lack of visitors in this enormous house that had never been a home.

  Nudging the door open, I peered in, keeping my focus on the large bed that sat in the center of the bedroom, my mother lying in it, not moving. Stepping in, I reasoned if she was asleep
I would have a reason to leave.

  She slowly turned her head to look at me. “Astor.” She raised her hand, gesturing for me to come closer.

  “Mama.” I closed the gap between us and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “How are you?”

  Her frail hand grasped mine. “One of my headaches.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Arthur’s taking good care of me.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  It was impossible not to sweep my gaze around the room, the memories as sharp and cruel as the day they were made. That fucking chair in the corner was the same. Why the hell had she kept it?

  “Thank you for coming to see me,” she said.

  “Sorry, work and everything else. I owed you a visit.”

  She pulled back a little. “What happened?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You look so weary.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me what happened?”

  I managed a sad smile. “I met someone I liked but it didn’t work out.”

  “Why didn’t I meet her?”

  “We weren’t together long.” Which didn’t matter—I’d thrown myself into my first true relationship and I’d been filled with hope, had been soothed in ways I couldn’t define.

  I’d fallen hard.

  “Did she hurt you?” she asked softly.

  “It’s no big deal,” I lied. “Tell me how you’re feeling right now. Should I call the doctor?”

  “Goodness, no. He won’t appreciate being called for a headache.”

  I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it. “It’s good to see you.”

  And it was…my sweet mother had made many mistakes, but our bond still felt unbreakable.

  “How’s Penelope?” she asked.

  “Fine. I’m watching over her.”

  “You’re a good brother.” Her expression became haunted with sadness. “You are too good for us all, Astor.”

  “Don’t, Mom.”

  Her deep brown gaze held mine. “We ruined your childhood.”

  My thumb caressed her hand to comfort her. “Look how happy I am now.”

  Was happy, I corrected myself. I had tasted happiness with Raquel and yet fate had torn us apart.

  “I shouldn’t have let you come in here.” My mother’s voice snapped me out of my melancholy and threw me headfirst into grief. “I know it upsets you.”

  “Stop,” I said firmly. “That’s all forgotten.”

  “You were too young.”

  “Mom, please.” I sat up straight. “How are the horses?”

  “Jacob came to visit. He told me they’re fine. Though Vedado didn’t do so well.”

  My mouth went dry. “What happened to him?”

  She waved it off. “He’s too skittish. Why do you love that horse so much? He’s so damaged from what they did to him that he won’t trust anyone.”

  “He trusts me, Mama.”

  She reached over and ran her hand through my hair. “Yes, yes he does. I think that’s why you two connect with each other. You’ve both been through so much.”

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m going to check on him.”

  “Of course.” She pushed herself up and rested her back against the headboard. “Thank you for visiting. I feel better now.”

  “I’m glad.” I let go of her hand and stood. “Can I get Arthur to bring you anything?”

  “Some tea, perhaps.”

  I leaned over and kissed her forehead before heading for the door. Before I stepped out of the room, I turned and looked back at her with a smile. Even now it felt good to say it. “Her name was Raquel.”

  “So pretty. What a shame.”

  Leaving that bedroom behind, I tried to shake off the feeling of dread that clung to me like it once had all those years ago. As though that room had somehow entered my consciousness and become a part of me.

  I walked past my old bedroom and descended the staircase with the memory of that sound—a gunshot—ringing in my head.

  The bullet had not only deafened my right ear for hours but had also stolen my world from me. The damage it could do to a human skull was unimaginable.

  So much blood…

  I made it through the parlor, down the hallway, and into the guest bathroom before the bile rose in my throat. I retched in the sink as the agonizing memories overwhelmed me.

  When I was finally done, I washed my mouth out and splashed my face with water.

  Staring at my reflection, I told myself that I didn’t have to enter this house ever again. Not if I didn’t want to. Next time I visited Mom I’d meet her in the garden and the conversation would be about selling this place once and for all. It was too big for her anyway. Surely she’d come around to my way of thinking?

  I made my way back toward the foyer, needing to get outside and inhale the fresh air. I sucked in a breath of concern when I saw Caine sniffing in the corner with his leash dragging behind him. My fear was realized when he raised his back leg to pee on the kentia palm sitting in a priceless vase.

  Yes, my sentiments exactly.

  God, I love that dog already.

  Arthur hurried into the foyer, looking around nervously. I threw him an amused smirk when he saw what Caine had done to the vase, as though the old mischievous me had never been suppressed.

  “Can you take Mom up some tea, please?” I asked him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I patted my leg to get Caine’s attention. “Come on, boy. Let’s go visit the horses.”

  MY FINGERS GRIPPED THE STEERING wheel tightly as I turned a corner into the elite-looking neighborhood. It was hard to stay focused with this constant ache in my chest.

  I no longer cared about the store I’d left behind in Dunedin. It was, after all, just a building. It was the hurt I had caused Astor that crushed me more than anything. I was going to fight for what was right and at the very least prove I had no ill intent.

  Another wave of regret hit me over the fact I hadn’t completed my formula before he’d walked out on me. Another few minutes and I could have proven to Astor the scent was my creation.

  It was one thing to have a perfume bottle in my possession, but to reverse engineer a scent would take a lab that was way more advanced than mine. I wished I’d kept my ledger and that way I could have shown it to him.

  All this chaos had me making the wrong decisions.

  More than this, I wanted to prove that what Astor and I had was real. Yes, I had accepted his invitation to work at The House of Beauregard, but surely he’d see my motive was pure when I had stayed with him in South Beach.

  What we had was too precious to let slip away.

  Which was why I was winding my way down Blueberry Lane looking for Damien’s address, and gawking at the multi-million dollar properties that surrounded me. Now I realized why he’d needed the money from the store to be able to afford to live here. Or at least to chip in a tenth of what Embry had spent on their new home.

  Though I couldn’t see it from here, I knew their front lawn would face the water.

  Wow, people. Here was my life crumbling around me and everyone else was getting on with theirs in the best possible way.

  I rang the doorbell and turned around to admire the street, where there was not even one dropped leaf anywhere from the storm. The cleanup had been quick and efficient. This neighborhood was a world away from what I had known with my ex-husband.

  Embry opened the door. “Hey, Raquel, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to see Damien.”

  “Was he expecting you?” She looked concerned.

  “I’m here to collect a ledger I gave to him for safekeeping.” I’d actually called his number and left a message, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “Come in.” She stepped back.

  “Thank you.”

  The interior matched the grandness of the outside, with its modern open plan design. Here and there were unpacked boxes provin
g they’d just moved in. My focus was on the sprawling garden—and beyond it the breathtaking view of the water where I saw luxury yachts floating by. No doubt the guests aboard the tour boats would also be awestruck by this waterfront property, along with the many others running along the bank.

  “You have a beautiful home. The view’s spectacular.” It sounded overly polite but I didn’t want to put her off the idea of me having access to Damien’s office.

  “I love it here. We’re still unpacking so excuse our mess.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself, thinking that if things hadn’t gone south in my marriage I might be the one living here. “Goodness, being a meteorologist really pays off. This must be from all the danger money they pay you?” I winked to soften it.

  “I wish. Covering those storms is a rush though. I love my job. This is all Damien.” She gestured for me to follow. “Want a drink?”

  Despite my mouth being dry, I declined. “What did you mean about Damien?”

  As she walked down a hallway, she turned to look over her shoulder at me. “Damien found this place and put a bid in as soon as it came on the market. It was an easy yes. The guy who owned it before was an architect so there’s some unusual features that make the place stand out.” She pointed to the sparkling pool of water. “It’s actually deeper than the usual swimming pool. He’s a diver so it’s where he trained his family so they could join him in Jamaica.”

  I had only been half listening. I was still trying to work out how my ex had afforded this place. “Has Damien been hired at a new restaurant?”

  “Right now, he’s still at La Traviata.” She smiled and stopped in front of his office. “He’s relocating next week to a new restaurant in South Beach as head chef.”

  His visit to The House of Beauregard made more sense now. He really had been in the area for business.

  She led me into the office.

  I took in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, leather furniture, and the window overlooking their enormous garden, trying to imagine where Damien had gotten the funds to afford this sprawling home. I’d Google how much this place had cost him later, but right now my focus was on his desk, my gaze scanning the mess.