Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

  All I could think of was how he had suffered for all those years because his mother hadn’t told the authorities the truth. Her haunting words came back to me: I should have protected him. Should have told them what really happened.

  She knew it wasn’t him. And Astor had carried that burden of guilt all of his life to protect his sister. Penelope’s burden had been seeing her brother’s childhood stolen on that very day and enduring their terrible separation.

  I walked Caine up the beach a little ways to put some distance between me and the noise of the crowd. I sat on the sand with him lying next to me and I tried to draw serenity from the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean. My heart bled for Astor and all he had suffered. I felt for Penelope, too. She may have saved her mother but she had killed some part of herself in the action she’d taken. Her confession felt like the final piece of the puzzle surrounding Astor and I felt an outpouring of love for him.

  This was what my heart had told me all along—he was a good, strong man of principle who had sacrificed his life for those he loved.

  A pelican swooped low and my gaze followed it until it disappeared from sight.

  “May I join you?”

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Astor standing a few feet away. A spark of hope glittered in his eyes and he gave me a kind smile. Caine rolled onto his back for him and Astor walked over and knelt down to give him a belly rub.

  I patted the sand beside me. “Sit here.”

  He joined me. “Penelope’s friend is taking her home.”

  “How is she?”

  “My sister will be okay.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry you got caught up in our dysfunction.” He reached over and began to rub my back as though I was the one who needed comforting.

  I shook my head. “All these years…the things you’ve had to endure in secrecy.”

  We sat side by side staring out at the ocean as the waves seemingly tried to soothe this moment and all that had gone before.

  Astor broke the silence. “I remember it vividly. Still have nightmares about that house. That room. If only I had gotten there before Penelope. Maybe I would have merely threatened Dad with the gun. I don’t know.”

  “You made the ultimate sacrifice for your sister.”

  “There was no other way. It happened so fast. There was no time to think or strategize. I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming. Then she went quiet. I went to check on her. My dad was drunk and staggering over her. He punched her face and she slid from the chair to the floor and lay still. He’d broken her jaw.”

  I rested a comforting hand on his arm.

  He let out a deep breath and continued. “Penelope was eleven. Her bedroom was next to theirs, which was why she got there before me. Mom had gotten the gun to protect all of us. Dad was still shouting at Mom even though she was clearly not going to fight back.” Astor sighed heavily, seemingly reliving the anguish of that night. “Penelope picked up the gun and pointed it at him.”

  In my head, I heard the gun go off, the bullet finding its mark and changing their lives irrevocably. One cruel consequence leading to another until the entire family had been decimated.

  From a little way down the beach, music carried from the party—Kate Bush singing “This Woman’s Work” as a devastating backdrop.

  “The final straw was my dad kicking my mom in the abdomen. It forced Penelope’s hand. She feels guilt over it every day and I carry guilt for not knowing whether I would have had the strength to do it. It was the reason I took the blame.”

  I imagined the chaos, the horror of that night, and my heart softened for Penelope. She had to cope every day with what she had done and live with the knowledge that her brother had paid the price.

  Astor turned to look at me. “It’s a day of revelations, it seems.”

  “It is.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “How did you know your perfume had ended up at The House of Beauregard?”

  “A customer came into my shop and told me she saw you with the bottle. They are unique. I bought two of them in Paris. Her saying she recognized the scent and the bottle was too much of a coincidence to ignore.”

  “Who?”

  “I think her name was Skye?”

  Astor looked thoughtful. “Was she a waitress?”

  “Yes, she was your waitress at a restaurant in South Beach.”

  He looked surprised. “I hope you sold her a decent bottle.”

  “I did.”

  “One of mine?”

  “No, one of mine, actually.”

  “Well, at least there’s one less person wearing Play With Me.”

  “True.”

  “Raquel, I want you to know I wasn’t going to give up on us. I found that other bottle in my office and literally stood staring at the wall for half an hour. I couldn’t believe my stupidity.”

  “Don’t.”

  “There was so much damage to undo.”

  I turned my gaze to his. “I suppose we needed time for the dust to settle.”

  “No, that wasn’t it at all. I needed to find a way to put things right for you. I felt dreadful for walking out on you after the storm. I will never forgive myself.”

  “I need you to forgive me for accepting a job as a ruse.”

  He bit his lip, looking guilty. “I might have seduced you into it.”

  “It’s good to talk it out.”

  “Promise me we always will…talk it out, I mean.”

  I gave a nod. “How’s your new cologne being received tonight?”

  “Very well. Who knew a fuck-boy scent could arouse such excitement.”

  I elbowed his ribs and he burst out laughing.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  Peeking into my handbag, I asked, “You don’t want to smell my perfume?”

  “Well, if you put it that way.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Deep down, I suspected you had created it right from the start.”

  His words stunned me. “How?”

  Astor held my gaze. “It reminded me of you.”

  A soft breeze blew a strand of hair across my face and he reached out and tucked it behind my ear.

  Somehow, someway, we had arrived at a life-affirming truth for both of us—one I hoped would set us free. Resting my head on his shoulder, soothed by the rhythmic sound of the waves kissing the shoreline, I exhaled slowly, feeling the remnants of my heartache fade away.

  “Raquel,” he said, “please come home.”

  I INSISTED ON DRIVING RAQUEL’S Alfa Romeo to my place in South Beach. She didn’t argue. She’d already driven so far this evening and I wanted her to relax. We had the roof down and the breeze caressing us as we drove along the waterfront with Caine sleeping in the backseat.

  This was all I could ever ask for…

  To be able to glance over at the woman beside me who threw smiles my way, each one feeling like a gift.

  After everything that had happened we had found each other again…after all we’d been through we were still here, together, and I knew this meant we were destined to be.

  For the first time since we had been parted I didn’t dread walking into my house. With her hand in mine, I led her into what I hoped would one day become her home, too.

  I tapped my leg. “C’mon, Caine.” Opening the sliding door to the garden, I let him out to play.

  “I’ll never get tired of the view.”

  With a lingering look at Raquel, I said, “Neither will I.”

  She blushed.

  “Let me fix you a drink,” I said, inviting her into the kitchen.

  I wanted to tear her clothes off and ravish her in the hallway, but after the tumultuous evening we’d both had I wanted her feeling safe. As I uncorked the bottle of wine, she walked over to the dining room table and examined the ten glass bottles that marketing and I had developed for our new cologne—the same one born from Raquel’s g
enius mind.

  “Have you come up with a name yet?” She turned one of the glass bottles in her hand.

  “You like that one?”

  She gave a nod. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Then that’s the bottle.” I smiled at the design she was holding.

  It was square and had a masculine edge, its stopper adding the style and class we’d talked about.

  “Don’t let me influence you.”

  “Raquel, you influence me in all I do.” Every inhalation, from the one I took right now back to the day I had first met her. “We have to work on our marketing strategy. I need your input.”

  “So you’re not calling it Fuck-Boy cologne, then?”

  “Maybe I will.” I grinned.

  She stared at the bottle in her hand. “I’m thinking something like this for the campaign: A cologne that provides a glimpse into the world of our beloved alphas—the men we adore who play hard but also love hard. The kind of man who isn’t afraid to explore new territories. The professional who passionately leads in their chosen field. The scent that attracts The One.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Your secret’s out, Astor.”

  I poured the wine into two tall-stemmed glasses. “You’ve always seen me, Raquel. Me.”

  “And I love all I see.”

  “Do you have it?” I glanced at her handbag.

  “Mine?” Raquel reached into her bag and removed a small glass bottle, then handed it over to me. “Here.”

  I took it from her and uncorked the bottle to breathe in the delicate scent. “You added wild roses.”

  She looked impressed. “From Cornwall. What do you think?”

  “Well, a scent is best appreciated on skin.”

  She held out her arm to me.

  “Wrist is too obvious.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, for this experiment I’m going to need you naked.”

  Raquel dragged her bottom lip along her teeth and unzipped her dress, stepping out of it and letting it pool at her feet. She stood there looking stunning in her lacy underwear with her hair curling over her shoulders.

  “Where would you like to dab it?” she asked.

  “I’m considering. Might need some time to think this through.” My gaze drank her in…her beauty, her elegance and her serenity.

  She reached around her back and unhooked her bra. It slid off her arms to the floor.

  “Seems a reasonable place,” I agreed, stepping forward. I dabbed some of the perfume between her breasts. Leaning in, I appreciated her tenderness, her compassion and, as the notes lifted from her skin, her remarkable scent of love.

  Carefully, I placed the bottle on the table and then reached for Raquel, cupping her face and leaning in to press my lips to hers, tasting her mouth, kissing her gently, passionately, revering her beauty.

  Raquel reached for the new bottle of cologne. “Your turn.”

  She dabbed some onto her finger and watched me unbutton my shirt before touching the amber liquid to my chest, leaning forward to breathe in the musky leather and spice.

  “It’s effective.” Her fingers reached for my zipper and released me from my pants. “It makes me want to do this.” She knelt before me.

  “Well, this is market testing at its best.”

  “Thought you’d like it.”

  “Oh, God, Raquel, that’s…”

  She drew me into her mouth, sucking and lapping and sending shudders of pleasure though me.

  I didn’t want to be that man anymore, the one who wooed a beautiful woman only to turn away when they wanted more. This time it was me wanting more, needing more, and needing her more than the air I breathed. Raquel was the most important woman in my life and I didn’t want what we had to ever end. I had to somehow convey what she meant to me.

  Lifting her up, I sat her on the edge of the table and nudged her backwards, tearing off her panties. I was hungry for her, desperate to taste her and make her arch her back with pleasure.

  I was gone completely, lost in her and never wanting to find my way back. Not even my past could have kept me away from her—this was me claiming my lover and asking for forgiveness for all I had put her through.

  I buried my face between her thighs, possessively taking her with my mouth, but lavishing her with all this affection wasn’t enough…it would never be enough.

  She shivered beneath me. “Slow down.”

  “This is slow,” I teased. “This is me claiming what is mine.”

  “Oh, God, the things you say.” She arched her back. “I want to come with you inside me.”

  “For you, anything,” I whispered. I rose up and stood between her legs, and as she lay back on the table I slid inside her, burying myself deep and feeling her muscles clenching. I leaned forward to hold her hands and weave my fingers through hers.

  This was purity, our brilliant connection that was brighter than the sun. This was the song poets chased after, two hearts becoming one. Raquel called out my name and I whispered hers, still awestruck that she was finally mine.

  One year later…

  IT WAS THE WAY THE glass bottles lining the shelves reflected the myriad shards of light that mesmerized me, the soft hues glinting off the sunlight that streamed in through the window, the liquids within promising to kiss the soul and then set it free.

  Each fragrance delivering an experience that would last until the end of the day, some well into the night.

  I adored the décor…the prints on the walls, the glass-fronted display cabinet filled with even more bottles and the red chaise lounge providing a cozy seat for customers as they savored the tranquility around them, listening to classical music playing as a backdrop to a luxurious moment of self-care.

  This is what Perfume Girl meant to me—a safe refuge where women brought their girlfriends, their mothers or sisters, or a place they visited alone where they could steal a few moments for themselves.

  I turned to look up at the words elegantly painted along the back wall:

  Every romance has a scent.

  At the end of this blissful business day I marveled at how busy we had been and thanked my lucky stars for this incredible real estate on Espanola Way in South Beach, with its generous foot traffic and endless stream of tourists who enjoyed spoiling themselves in my store.

  All this was thanks to one man—the handsome gentleman who was peering through my glass window wearing a generous grin.

  Astor mouthed. “I have it!”

  Bursting with excitement, I rounded the display cabinet and hurried to the door, meeting him halfway. He stepped inside the store and lifted me up, spinning me around in a hug as I laughed with joy.

  “I missed you.” He nuzzled my neck.

  “Missed you, too.” We’d parted at breakfast and though I loved every second of being here I had also counted down the minutes until I saw him again.

  He looked around and smiled. “How was today?”

  “Busier than I ever was in Dunedin.”

  “That’s great. How’s the new staff working out?”

  “Fine. Emma’s just left. She’s a great fit.”

  “Allow me.” He spun the sign on the door to CLOSED and with a click of the lock he sealed us in.

  Astor walked me backward until my body hit the countertop and then lifted me onto it, easing between my legs.

  “People will see.” I pointed to the window.

  “Let them watch me worshipping my fiancée.”

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I brought up my hand and admired my sapphire engagement ring, which brought back happy memories of us in Havana a few months ago. We had danced all night and then he’d gotten down on one knee and proposed with this exquisite stone encased in a gold band.

  Saying yes had been easy.

  All I had gone through, all the loss and all the pain had led me to him. And now, as I looked back, I had no regrets…only gratitude that I had kept my faith in myself and the world, believing everything would work out fine
.

  This was more than fine. These were my dreams coming true, too wonderful to believe at times. I’d been blessed with a devastatingly charming, funny, kind fiancé whose constant romantic texts throughout the day brought me happiness.

  He laughed as he reached into his pocket. “I almost forgot.”

  He placed the luminous crystal bottle with its clear liquid on the counter and his gaze rose to study me. “What do you think?”

  I reached for the cut glass bottle and examined it, blinking in amazement at its shape, the silver base and the way the light caught the perfume within. “It’s….”

  “You like it?”

  “Astor, it’s incredible. It’s more than I could ever have imagined.”

  “We need something special for this one,” he said. “I brought in a glass designer and he emphasized the way the formula attracts and then deflects light.”

  Contentment flushed my cheeks.

  “It suits it so well.” He reached for the bottle and held it up. “I love the name.”

  “Lumière.” As I spoke the word, waves of happiness flooded into me. Another dream was coming true in the most wonderful way.

  “More good news,” he said. “Lumière has been picked up by the major department stores and will go on sale in a matter of months.” He reached for my hand. “I thought you might like to attend the advertising meetings so we can come up with an inspiring promotion.”

  “I would love that.”

  He kissed my wrist. “All that’s left is to celebrate. I booked us a table at Triple. Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  He reached for the bottle and opened the glass lid, dabbing a drop on his finger. “I want you wearing it.”

  Tilting my head, I felt his forefinger trailing down my throat and then he leaned in to sniff me. “Heaven on earth,” he whispered.

  “You’re my heaven on earth, Astor Beauregard.”

  A flash of happiness spread across his face. “Marry me.”

  “You already asked me, remember?”

  “So I did.”

  “The answer will always be yes, Astor.”

  “How did I get so lucky?”

  “I’m the lucky one.” I let my gaze wander around the store. “Thank you for making this happen.”