Perfume Therapy

by Kirsty McManus

  Shit. The food on the spoon last night.

  “Were you at the restaurant last night?” I probe.

  “You mean Sirocco?”

  My heart sinks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Sorry. I was just doing my job.”

  “Well, you haven’t done a very good one. I saw you three times.”

  “I can explain all three of those, but it doesn’t matter. My cover’s well and truly blown now.”

  “Good.”

  Rosie runs a finger down his cheek. “So, sweetheart, now that you’re off the clock, how about a drink?”

  I’m not sure what kind of power Rosie has over this guy, but he looks too scared to say no. “Uh, I guess.”

  I’m not in the mood to party anymore.

  “I think I’m just going to go back to the apartment,” I say to Rosie.

  “No!” she squeaks. “Stay and hang with us!”

  “I’m not feeling it, sorry. I’m tired.”

  “I know you’re bummed about your guy, but don’t you think the best revenge is to stay out and have fun? Party with the guy who’s getting paid to watch you? Maybe we can even convince him to split the profits with us if we don’t say anything.”

  The guy raises an eyebrow, as if thinking that might not be a bad idea.

  “I don’t mind what you do, but I’m going to go. Have fun.”

  Rosie tries to protest again, but I walk away. I feel like crap.

  I start to cry while sitting in the back of a tuk-tuk on the way home to the apartment. How could Aaron pay someone to make sure I didn’t cheat on him? Did he do this back in Brisbane too and I just never noticed? Do I not know my boyfriend at all?

  Sure, he’s always been a bit overprotective, but I just assumed a lot of army guys were like that because of their job.

  But it appears that Mia was right. He is a douche. A douche who doesn’t even care if I’m stranded on the side of the road in a foreign city in the middle of the night, as long as I’m not fucking someone.

  The driver looks at me anxiously through the rear-view mirror. “You OK, miss?”

  I nod, but continue to cry.

  We get back to the apartment and I shove a handful of bills at the driver—not even caring that I should be conserving my cash—before skipping the elevator and running up the three flights of stairs to my place.

  As I near the top, I’m still looking at the stairs and don’t notice the other person coming my way. I crash straight into their stomach.

  “Oh, God. I’m sorry!” I look up and my heart starts hammering.

  “Daniel! What are you doing here?”

  “I just came to check on you, seeing as you weren’t at the perfumery when I got back this afternoon.” He notices my tears. “Are you OK?”

  I quickly scrub my face with the back of my hand. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. And sorry too about leaving early. It was just…”

  “It wasn’t something I said, was it?” he says quickly.

  I look at him, surprised. “What? No! Of course not. Why would you think that?”

  “I just thought maybe I gave you the wrong impression. Like I was being too familiar or something…”

  I can’t help but smile. Daniel is worried I was scared off by some almost non-existent flirting? That’s so cute!

  “I promise it was nothing you did or said. It was actually…”

  My phone starts playing that familiar Skype ringtone. I check the caller ID and see that it’s Aaron. He never calls on a Thursday, so the PI must have gotten to him already. Damn it.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take this,” I say apologetically.

  “Oh, of course. I’ll leave you to it. So we’re all good?”

  I smile more widely. “We’re good. I promise.”

  I press the answer key on my phone and look at the handset.

  This should be interesting.

  FIFTEEN

  “Just a second,” I say to Aaron as I unlock my door and head over to the desk. I prop the phone up facing me and sit down on the desk chair. I feel like if I talked to him from my bed, it would take away some of my power.

  When I finally look at the screen properly, Aaron’s expression can only be described as barely controlled rage. For some reason, this shocks me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask, put out. “You’re the one who paid someone to spy on me. I should be the angry one.”

  “Don’t try and deflect from the real issue here,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “How long have you been having an affair?”

  I feel my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. “What are you talking about?”

  “The guy you’ve been spending all your time with. Daniel? That’s his name, isn’t it?”

  I feel a cold rush of fear race up my spine. “Yes, his name is Daniel, but we’re not having an affair. He’s just helping me out because I have no passport. And Mia ditched me, as you obviously know by now. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

  “Uh, not fuck another guy?”

  “I didn’t fuck him!”

  “You might as well have. I saw the photo of you getting cosy with him at that restaurant. Looked like you were having a goddamn orgasm as he fed you from his spoon!”

  I suddenly feel ashamed. He’s right. That was not a cool thing to do. If I saw Aaron feeding some other woman, I’d be upset too.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper. “But it wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “Wasn’t it? Aren’t you staying at one of his apartments? And what? I’m just supposed to believe he’s lending you that place out of the goodness of his heart? What kind of promises did you have to make to land that deal?”

  “Hey! All I offered was to help out at his perfumery. I swear there’s nothing romantic between us at all. I told him about you. For all I know, he has a girlfriend or a wife at home too. I barely know the guy.”

  “Which makes it worse. Practically humping him while you ride on his motorbike. It’s disgusting, Chloe. It makes me look like I have no control over my woman.”

  I know so many things he is saying are wrong and unfair, but I’ve already moved into our usual mode where it’s my job to calm things down. I know Aaron is under a lot of stress out there in the Middle East. His mind would play tricks on him and he would feel powerless if he thought I was cheating on him.

  “Listen, I am crushed that you didn’t trust me and felt the need to hire a PI to follow me around. But I also want to apologise for making you feel that way. I did what I thought was the only option at the time. I had no other choice.”

  “Well, you have other choices now. I take it you’ve been to the consulate to organise a replacement passport?”

  “I’m sure you know the answer to that already,” I mutter.

  “Hey! Enough attitude from you, missy. Now I’m going to sort this shit out for you, seeing as you can’t seem to do it yourself without whoring out your body.”

  I want to argue, but Aaron is on a roll. The only way to respond is to stay quiet.

  “Now, I want you to promise me that you’ll go straight to the airport the second your passport comes through. In the meantime, I will organise a wire transfer to give you enough money to buy meals until you leave. As we speak, I am booking you a room at the Indra Regent. I want you to head there first thing in the morning. And I take it you’ve cancelled your credit cards?”

  I nod. I don’t mention that I’m waiting for replacement ones to be sent to the perfumery.

  “Good. You can re-order new ones once you get home.”

  “Aaron, I don’t think any of this is necessary. I’ll be fine until next week. I have enough money for now if I just stay put…”

  “Chloe, do you value our relationship?”

  I hadn’t been looking at him until he said that, but something in his tone makes me focus on his eyes.

  Wait. Is he crying? Aaron has tears rolling down his face. I have never seen Aaron cry. Ever.

  I fee
l my eyes well up too. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then please just do this for me. I’ll be home before you know it and we can work on making this relationship strong again. I blame myself for being away too much. Without enough attention, terrible things like this happen.”

  I nod. “OK. I’ll go to the new hotel.”

  “And you’ll fly home as soon as you get your passport?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Good. I’ll organise the wire transfer when I get off the phone. You should be able to pick it up from a branch near the new hotel.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling worse than I think I ever have.

  “Hey, sweetie, it’s alright. We’ll get through this.”

  He kisses his fingers and then presses them to the screen.

  “Love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  He hangs up, and I burst into tears.

  ***

  I sleep badly. My brain keeps swirling with thoughts of how I failed Aaron, but also how bad he must think I am to have to spy on me. And in a way, I did give him a reason to be suspicious. I rode on Daniel’s motorbike. I ate food from his spoon. And I think the worst part is, I do like Daniel. And maybe not just in a platonic way. I feel like Aaron knows that, and I while I would never act on it, he can somehow sense my true feelings.

  I conclude it would be best if I distanced myself from Daniel and went to the new hotel. It’s not like I have any reason to hang around once my passport comes through—Mia is God knows where by now.

  I finally fall asleep around 2am and then don’t wake until after nine. I take my time, dragging my feet as I shower, then have breakfast and pack up my stuff. I sadly look around the apartment. I don’t know why I have such a connection to this place, but it somehow feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever stayed—even counting my own apartment in Brisbane. I don’t want to leave.

  Finally, just after ten, I lock the door and start towards the elevator. I’ll have to drop by the perfumery on the way out, but I only plan on dashing in and leaving the key and a quick thank-you note on the front counter. I half-hope I don’t see Daniel. It will be easier that way.

  The elevator opens and Rosie appears.

  She jumps back in surprise.

  “Jeez, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there.”

  “Sorry.”

  She notices my luggage.

  “What’s going on? Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah. Aaron booked me a hotel so I don’t have to rely on Daniel’s generosity anymore.”

  She frowns. “But I’m sure it’s not costing him much. And you were helping out at the perfumery.”

  “I know. But I think it would be best for everyone if I just left.’

  “I’m pretty sure the only one this situation benefits is your paranoid asshole boyfriend.”

  “Hey! Aaron isn’t that bad! He’s just being protective.”

  She looks at me incredulously. “Oh my God, Chloe! Being protective is pushing you out of the way if a bus is about to hit you, not hiring a PI to spy on you.”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m going home soon anyway. Back to reality. I got too caught up in the holiday atmosphere…”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit excuses for Aaron. If you want to give him all the power and let him treat you like crap, do it. Just don’t try and justify it.”

  “I’m not!” I start to tear up again. I shove my apartment key at her. “Here. Can you please give this back to Daniel and tell him I left?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Please? I don’t want to annoy Aaron any more than I already have.”

  She sighs. “Life doesn’t have to be like that, you know.” She holds out her hand and accepts the key. “Can I at least get your email address so I can write to you sometime? Maybe I’ll come to Australia for a vacation.”

  My face softens. “Sure.” I rummage around in my handbag for a pen and an old receipt. I write my details on the back and give it to her.

  She gives me a quick hug. “I really wish you were staying longer. I don’t often meet people I connect with. You seem like a cool chick, Chloe.”

  “Right back at you,” I say.

  I get in the elevator and wave.

  “Thanks!”

  She waves back. “See ya!”

  I ride down, my mood sinking along with the elevator’s descent.

  I’m doing the right thing for my relationship with Aaron. Once we’re home, everything will get back on track.

  I just wish it felt better than this.

  SIXTEEN

  The Indra Regent is a lovely boutique hotel close to a marketplace and a mall. I have to hand it to Aaron—at least he picked a good location.

  I spend part of the day wandering around the marketplace, browsing the t-shirts, watches and jewellery. But I don’t buy anything, because I don’t want to waste my remaining cash. I know I could collect the wire transfer Aaron organised, but I won’t do that until it’s absolutely necessary.

  When it gets too hot outside, I head inside to the mall, where I explore the different floors containing more clothing, handbags, cosmetics and electronics. I discover a food court on the top floor and buy a plate of cheap noodles for lunch.

  I go back to the hotel, where I dive into the cool water of the swimming pool on the terrace. It’s smaller than the one at the Shangri-La, but I have the entire thing to myself. I will myself to chill out…to enjoy my last few days in Bangkok with nothing to do other than lie around a hotel and relax. I even rationalise that I don’t have to worry about work as much, because I’ll be home before schedule. Keith will be so happy.

  But it all feels wrong. The more time that passes, the more I start to feel a bit manipulated by Aaron. I keep replaying our conversation over and over in my head and realise he took no responsibility for breaching my trust and hiring a PI to tail me. Despite his reasoning, I know that no normal person would do that to their partner.

  And I feel bad that I didn’t say goodbye properly to Daniel. He deserves more than someone else talking to him on my behalf.

  I sink under the water, hoping the silence and lack of oxygen will settle me down. But it doesn’t.

  I re-surface, climb out and go back to my room where I sit on the ledge near the window and stare out at the city. It’s a smoggy mish-mash of new buildings, dirty factory roofs and broken-down shacks.

  I feel like a tiny ant lost in the universe.

  ***

  I sleep a bit better on Friday night, but wake up on Saturday morning feeling blank. I didn’t think it was possible to not have any mood. It’s almost like my brain has switched itself off.

  My hotel room isn’t as stylish as Daniel’s apartment, but it’s comfortable and has a nice vibe. I contemplate lying around and watching music videos all day. It’s tempting, but instead I decide to check my emails so I can jump straight back into work when I return.

  There is a message from Keith, chastising me for not sending through my new number. He also makes it sound like the office is unable to function without me there. And while that’s flattering, I got the impression that Bethany would have been able to handle most things thrown at her. My suspicions are confirmed when I see a couple more messages from her regarding the Robert Chang account. The first details a discussion she had with Leanne Smith, where Bethany basically made her aware of the vast multicultural diversity of her new workplace. She tried to make it sound like it was a good opportunity to learn from different cultures, but Leanne emailed Bethany soon after and withdrew herself from the position, citing some unexpected family commitment. The second message was Bethany sending through a list of new candidates for the job. I tell her I trust her judgment, and to start interviewing new people if Keith gives the go-ahead.

  I then quickly write to Keith, explaining that I just got a new number (it’s only a tiny lie) and that I might be returning earlier than expected. I also tell him to allow Bethany to do her jo
b until I get back.

  Then I notice I have an email from Rosie. I smile sadly at the thought of my new friend. I wonder if she will come to Australia. It’s unlikely. Americans always say they want to visit, but when they find out how long the flight is, they usually change their mind. And then I realise I know absolutely nothing about her. How long she’s on holiday…what she does for a job…how she can afford an assistant…

  I open the message, my heart a bit happier than a few moments ago.

  Hey Chloe,

  I hope you’ve settled into your new hotel OK. I already miss you! Is that a weird thing to say? I mean, I know we only really hung out for a few hours in total, but I think you’re really cool, and in any other circumstance, I think we’d be besties.

  I beam. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend be so honest with their feelings.

  Anyway, I don’t know what your plans are before you go home, but I have a proposition for you. I was talking to Daniel this morning and I asked him about the possibility of turning my fragrance into a whole line of skincare products. He said he would love to help me, but he’s a bit short-staffed at the moment, and he has to go away for that workshop in a few days. I asked if I could work on it with you and he said that was fine. I know you’re not a perfumer, but you know more than me, and to be honest, I think Daniel could really use the money that my stuff would generate. When I was at the perfumery, I heard him talking to someone on the phone about how he can’t afford to pay a rent increase that the landlord wants to force on him. He said something about maybe having to let some of his staff go! So if you helped me, you would be helping Daniel too.

  I narrow my eyes. Is she emotionally blackmailing me?

  And yes, I’ll be honest. I’m trying to make you feel guilty so you’ll agree. I just can’t imagine you’d have much fun on your own in a random hotel. And imagine. You could put on your CV that you helped create the next Chanel No. 5!