“Renee, did you get the email of the images of perfume bottles that I like?”
Opening her binder, Renee removed several sheets of paper. “Yes, I have them. I actually made a copy of all of them for the three of us,” she said, as she handed a paper-clipped batch to Jacques.
“Now Jacques, I heard that you are a craftsman when it comes to creating scents,” Renee said, flipping through the images.
“I’ve made my share, yes.”
“The market for celebrity fragrances is so saturated ours is going to have to be top notch,” Renee said.
“Nothing but, Renee,” Jacques said in response.
Renee turned to Patrice. “I like him,” she said pointing to Jacques.
Patrice nodded.
“When did you decide to become a perfumer?” Renee asked Jacques.
“I’ve always loved science. One day a girl in my chemistry class challenged me that I couldn’t create a scent for a woman. I wanted to prove her wrong, so I used it as my end of the year project and nailed it. Ever since that day, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I bet you got all the girls after that little accomplishment,” Renee commented.
Jacques chuckled. “You could say that. I think it was because they wanted me to make one for them too.”
“Do you need a degree to become a perfumer?”
“I think one of the most important things you need to have is a keen sense of smell. Some folks say that as we age our judgment and sensibilities diminish. But there are some perfumers who work well past their sixtieth birthday.”
“I didn’t know that,” Renee said. “So you don’t have to go to college?”
“I would strongly advise it because you need an aptitude for science, education in chemistry and of course perfumers must have an insight into the nature of consumers and how the cosmetics industry works.”
Patrice could tell Jacques’s answers were intriguing her sister. Patrice wanted them to talk about their project. “Jacques, tell Renee about the fragrance. I only got a whiff of it once and I’m not sure if you’ve continued to work on it.”
“Yes, actually, I have been working on it. It might be a good idea since we have a small staff to have everyone from the spa and the boutique to do a test. Let’s get their feedback before we agree to submit anything to the folks in Angela’s camp.”
Renee grinned. “I love that idea, so how would you describe it now? Is it woodsy, spicy, sensual or sweet?”
“I’d say that it is more sweet and sensual,” Jacques said in response.
“Do you think it will stay that way by the time you complete it?”
Jacques shook his head. “I’m hoping so. We’ll continue to perfect it.”
“Let’s setup the test for tomorrow afternoon,” Patrice said to Jacques before turning her attention to her sister. “Do you think you can come by then?”
“Let me check my calendar. I’d love to participate.” Renee picked up her cell phone and scrolled through her appointments. “Have you chosen a name yet? That will be very important as we mock up a bottle design.”
“No, we haven’t,” Patrice turned to Jacques. “Have you?”
“Naming a perfume is much different than making it. There’s no science in it. And we have to be careful what we choose. One thing we used to do to come up with a name was to name the scents after the primary essence involved plus the number of ingredients in the formulation. The primary essence in our scent right now is vanilla, and there are nine ingredients in the formula,” Jacques said.
“Vanilla Nine?” Patrice said, closing one eye. That didn’t sound sexy at all. Maybe what she’d heard was true about the perfumer only being responsible for the liquid that went into the bottle. Jacques’s suggestion was terrible.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking that since we want to launch it for Valentine’s Day, the name needs to be something sensual, sweet, and provocative, to get the customer’s attention. So something like, Allure sixty-nine.” She watched both Renee and Jacques’s facial expressions, but they both sat looking like statues. “Aren’t you guys going to say something?”
“You got me with the sixty-nine, Treecie. I didn’t know how to respond,” Renee said before throwing her head back and laughing.
“What is Renee laughing about?” Myra asked as she walked over and took a seat next to Patrice.
“They’re laughing at me because I wanted to name the fragrance Allure sixty-nine,” Patrice explained.
Myra shook her head and raised one finger. “A bit too provocative. We want a name that is attractive not just sexy.”
“This is about as much as we can cover right now,” Renee said, shoving her papers into her folder.
Patrice stood. “Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow and maybe we can get some good feedback that will help us.”
“I’m going to head home now. I still have work to do for an early morning meeting,” Renee said.
“Faith is packing up our things now, so why don’t we all walk out together?” Myra said.
Jacques stood. “It was good to meet you all. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet Mr. McClendon and Jennifer.”
“I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see you,” Myra said.
“Great to meet you, Jacques,” Faith said, coming from behind her mother with their coats.
Patrice walked them to the door and said her good-byes. She came back into the living room and sat on the couch next to him. “Wasn’t too bad huh?”
“It was a piece of cake,” he said gesturing his hands.
“Would you like a brandy or something to drink?”
“Water will be fine. How about we sit back and watch a movie?”
Jacques picked up the remote control from the television stand and turned it on. As he scrolled through the movie selection on Netflix, he stopped on a title. “Patrice,” he yelled. “Have you seen the movie, ‘The Loft’?”
“No, but I’ve heard a lot about it. Let’s watch that one.”
He selected the movie and by the time she joined him it started. Patrice rested her head on his shoulder and they both got into a comfortable position. Before the first scene ended, she was asleep.
As Jacques sat with his hand resting on her thigh, he watched her for a couple of seconds resting peacefully and thought about how deep his feelings were for her. It wasn’t long before he joined her in slumber.
Chapter Fifteen
Jacques couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep. He was a bit disoriented, almost forgetting where he was, until he looked down and saw Patrice sound asleep on the other end of the sofa. He then remembered they were trying to watch a film. Nudging her without scaring her half to death, he helped her up. “Wake up, baby,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s go to bed, Patrice.”
Once she was lucid, he stood and guided her into her bedroom.
“What time is it?” she asked before releasing a yawn.
“It’s one o’clock in the morning,” Jacques responded, helping her through the threshold of her bedroom door.
Patrice walked into her adjoining bath and within five minutes, she came out in a skimpy nightgown. “Are you going to stay?” she asked.
Jacques didn’t need to be tempted and the nightgown was talking to him. He had too much work to finish. “No, babe. I need to get home. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Throwing back the bed covers, he waited until she was snuggled underneath the silk sheets and the duvet. He kissed her lips. “I can let myself out, don’t worry.”
Patrice sunk down deeper in her bed. “Good night, baby,” she said, her words falling off.
Jacques wasn’t surprised since they both had been going non-stop to get the project completed. It was hard work, but the payoff was going to be great. He walked quietly out of the room and retrieved his coat
before leaving the apartment, making sure the door was locked.
When he opened the main door and stepped outside, the cold shocked him wide awake. He walked briskly to his car, got in and started it right up. He waited approximately thirty seconds for the engine to warm, backed out, and headed toward the street. Light sleet was falling to the ground, so he turned on his wipers.
Jacques quietly entered the apartment and went straight to his bedroom. He was so happy when he got home. He peeled off his clothes, slid between the sheets, sunk his head into the pillow and fell asleep.
* * * * *
Despite the fact that he only had a few hours of sleep, Jacques woke up at his usual time. He showered, shaved and got dressed, leaving the house to get to the boutique. He reflected on the business portion of his conversation at Patrice’s the night before. Soon he came to the realization that they might have a real problem.
First of all he realized that Patrice had no clue of the enormity of the project. She was thinking about bottles and names. Jacques acknowledged that those things were also important, but they needed distribution and manufacturing on a much larger scale than what they were able to produce in the back room of Good Scents.
It was at that moment that Jacques decided that he would take Fairchild up on their offer with the condition that they would agree to manufacture and produce the fragrance. Once he was settled in his office, he jotted down some notes for the conversation he hoped to have with Roger. After reading over the notes a second time, he finally felt ready to make the call. He dialed the number and the receptionist answered.
“Roger Fields office, Connie speaking.”
“Hi Connie, Jacques Germain calling.” Jacques met Connie on her first day at Fairchild. She was a very quiet woman, but had a great nose for fragrances. He always used her during the testing phase of his projects. She proved to be a valuable asset and he loved her feedback.
“Jacques, how are you today?”
“I’m well. I’d like to speak to Roger if he’s available.”
“Yes, hold one moment. I’ll put you right through.”
Jacques removed the phone from his ear and exhaled while he waited for Roger to answer.
“Hello, Jacques.”
“You’re awfully cheerful this early in the morning, Roger.”
“Life is good, Jacques. How are you?”
“Life is getting better, Roger,” Jacques replied, hoping that after he hung up the phone it was going to continue.
“Let’s hear about it.”
“Roger, I’m looking forward to working with you again.”
“Great Jacques. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”
“Sure, but with one condition,” Jacques said. The company showed him that it was all about the business, so that’s the way he looked at his answer. It was all about the business.
There was silence so Jacques continued. He explained everything to Roger about the fragrance, the agreement with Angela Simpson and what he wanted Fairchild Ltd. to provide.
“It sounds like a doable project,” Roger agreed.
“Great, Roger. I’m excited about this.”
“That’s what we do, make perfume. So we can work out the details. Knowing you and the type of fragrances you are capable of creating I’m sure we’ll have a hit on our hands. Everybody is going to make money.”
Jacques had already seen the potential the fragrance would have on the industry and the consumer. That was why he needed a distributor that could get it into the markets that Patrice’s business couldn’t. In order for it to be a global success they would need a big name like Fairchild behind it.
Even though he’d agreed to his terms, Jacques needed to address one last situation with Roger, to totally clear the air.
“By the way Roger, what is the latest on the Harlan situation?”
Roger cleared his throat. “It’s in litigation and this kind of case can wear on for a long time. The prosecutors are handling it as a trade secrets violation case,” Roger said. “Listen, Jacques, I don’t know how this is going to shake out, but I’m sorry that Harlan was able to make away with your hard work.”
“That fragrance was good, Roger, but this one is great.”
“So you held back on me, huh?” Roger replied.
Jacques laughed. “You’ll never know, will you? I’ll talk to you later, Roger.”
“We’ll talk soon, Jacques.”
Leaning back in his chair, Jacques clasped his hands behind his head and smiled. Patrice is going to be happy and rich.
* * * * *
Patrice had a standing appointment with her sister to get her hair done. Because she’d been working so hard lately, she’d had to cancel. Friday morning, she made sure that she didn’t miss her appointment. When she arrived, she only had to wait fifteen minutes because there was one person in her sister’s chair. Jennifer would be calling her next, so while she waited, she saw a notification of a text message. It was from Marla, the manager of the spa, who responded to a text message Patrice had sent to her earlier.
Looking up from the small screen, she saw Jennifer beckoning for her, so she dropped her phone into the side pocket of her designer bag and walked over to greet her.
“Hey sissy,” Jennifer said, hugging Patrice around her neck before placing the cape on her.
“How are my babies?” Patrice asked. Since the day they were born, she’d been in love with her twin niece and nephew, Mariah and Micah.
“Bad as hell. Micah is getting into everything and you know Simeon doesn’t do anything about it,” Jennifer replied.
Patrice laughed.
“It’s not funny, Treecie. This little boy keeps bringing his potty chair into my bedroom. Not cool.”
Patrice shook her head. “Well, I’m surprised that he hadn’t started doing that kind of stuff before. Isn’t he almost three?”
“Yes,” Jennifer replied.
“Well, I guess he said, you’re not leaving me in here by myself, sitting on this thing.”
They both giggled.
“Jenn, I want something different,” Patrice said. She trusted her sister to give her something fresh and new.
“Like what?”
“I want color and a cut.”
“You? What?” Jennifer asked her again.
Patrice repeated herself.
“Alright?” Jennifer responded, swirling the chair around toward the wall mirror. “So, are you going to tell me how much you want cut or are you going to trust me with the scissors?” she asked, picking up the cutters, opening and closing them quickly for effect.
“I’ll trust you as long as you don’t get happy with them.”
Jennifer chuckled. “I’ll have you looking like a runway model in no time.” She bent closer to Patrice’s ear. “Does this new man in your life have anything to do with the hair cut you want?”
“Frankly, yes. So work your magic.”
Jennifer smiled. “I heard about the dinner the other night. Momma was quite impressed, so he must be something.”
Patrice turned around so she could see Jennifer’s face. “She said that?”
Jennifer nodded.
“Really. What else did she say?”
“She just said that he is very intelligent and well mannered.”
Patrice radiated inside. Having her mother approve was a big thing to Patrice. “Faith and Renee didn’t say anything to you about him?”
“They both called me to find out why I didn’t show up for the dinner.”
“Yeah, why didn’t you?” Patrice asked. “I thought you all would meet him at the same time.”
“I was so tired when I left here and then when I got home, Mariah was running a temp. It was just a crazy day, but I can’t wait to meet him. Faith said that he was very handsome and Renee said he knew his stuff.”
> Patrice smiled. She was happy that her family liked him. It was very important to her, but at this point the way they felt about him, it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop her from seeing him.
“So, you really like this guy, huh?” Jennifer asked, combing Patrice’s hair out, preparing for the first cut.
“Yes, very much so,” Patrice answered.
Jennifer cut Patrice’s shoulder-length hair into layers, giving it volume. She used a light brown almost bronze-colored rinse to tint her hair. By the time she finished, she handed Patrice a huge hand-held mirror so that she could see the results in the front and back.
“I love it, Jenn. I really do,” she said, running her fingers through her hair.
Jennifer came closer. “Now he can run his fingers through your hair and not get cut.”
Patrice swatted at her sister, but missed. “Stop, but I really do like this a lot. It has body and shine and bounces when I move.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes as she continued to look at herself in the mirror. She could see the difference now because for the last several days she’d felt it. “Jenn, I can’t thank you enough. It’s beautiful.”
Jennifer kissed her sister’s cheek. “Patrice, I have to say, I have never seen you like this before. You seem so happy and have this glow about you. I just need to ask you. Are you in love?”
Patrice stepped closer to her sister. “I have never really been in love before, Jenn. Momma always told me that if I ever fell in love I would know it,” she said, shaking her head. “And, I think I know it.”
“Well, I’m so glad you’re in love because it’s a beautiful thing,” Jennifer said.
Patrice figured her baby sister would understand after all that she’d gone through to be with her man. The newlyweds had endured the whole in sickness and in health even before they were married.
Checking her watch, she said, “I’ve got to get out of here. I have to meet with Marla, the spa manager and I don’t want to be late,” Patrice said, getting up from the salon chair.
Be My Valentine: The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 3 Page 14