Page 112 of Perfume Girl

I breathed out a frustrated sigh. “You’re painfully discourteous this morning.”

“Because my gut is warning me not to trust her.”

“You know me, Penelope,” I said, trying to soothe her. “I don’t do relationships.”

“So why is she living in your home?”

I flinched. “Who told you?”

She crossed her arms. “So…she’s moved in?”

“She needed somewhere to stay.”

“Wow, she got you good.”

“It’s temporary.” I didn’t even want to think about her leaving.

“What did she say to persuade you?”

“What more do you want?” I leaned back against the desk. “Have I not given you the best of me?”

“Don’t go there.”

“I mean us, now. With all I do to keep you appearing as my equal here.”

“Don’t I deserve it?”

No, she fucking well did not because she was never here. “I know what I’m doing.”

Her lips trembled. “What if I lose you?”

“You’re my sister for God’s sake.”

She fell into my arms. “Promise me she won’t find out about Bridgestone.”

“I never think of it.” My thoughts dragged me back to that vast house with its sprawling corridors. In my nightmares, I still ran down those halls through a never-ending blackness.

“If we get this scent perfected,” Penelope said softly, “I’ll have given this company something to make you proud.”

I hugged her tight. “I’m already proud of you.”

“I love you, Astor.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Let’s think about a name for it.”

She peered up at me. “Okay.”

That seemed to calm her, though I knew this scent deserved a unique label. That was why I paid the staff in the marketing department so well.

“Pull back on the partying, okay?” This was my way of saying stay away from the cocaine. It made her jittery and turned her into a raving bitch—and when she got that crazy I was the only one who could talk her off the ledge.

“I do it to forget,” she admitted.

My throat tightened with sorrow. “Try not to think about that right now.”

Her lips trembled, as though she’d gone there anyway. “We forgive each other, right?”

“Of course. You know that.”