Page 115 of Perfume Girl

—Raquel

Dread consumed me.

My mind ached from the strain of trying to comprehend what she was saying. My heart twisted with the idea she had walked out without saying goodbye or telling me why she’d left. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard in our meeting. Shouldn’t have ruined what was obviously a fragile relationship.

The crushing pressure in my chest verged on unbearable.

My gaze darted to the storeroom and I paled at the thought of what we’d done in there being the cause. Yet her note expressed she’d enjoyed our time together. I laid it down and lifted the bottle.

I removed the stopper and lifted it to my nose…aromas of leather, Frankincense, and black suede. My body shuddered from the other ingredients I couldn’t pinpoint because they were blended so well—an alpha scent contained within glass.

She’d captured the fugue…

Thundering hooves of thoroughbreds under the control of their masters as they weaved around each other competing for the win, turf thrown up, the heat of the afternoon sun bearing down and leaving a delicious burn to the skin, the squeeze of a heel to edge the horse left or right to snatch the advantage, the worth of well-worn boots squeezing gently to inspire the stride…and then came after-notes of popping champagne, caviar and kisses, salty sweetness, and the delicious art of the win.

How dare it be left on a workstation in a frigid lab? It deserved an unveiling at a lavish function where it was celebrated as a cologne with a fuck-boy edge.

Raquel, you did it. You pulled it off.

Imagine what she could do with my other formula.

Win her back.

From our first meeting, she’d promised she could deliver a world-class scent and the fact she had and then left like this cut too deep.

What we had was worth fighting for.

Go after her.

I dabbed the liquid onto my wrist and tucked the bottle into my pocket along with the note. Grabbing the mouse, I shook awake her computer and stared at the file on the screen. With a click I read the list for her fuck-boy formula.

She knew you’d look there.

Following the route she’d just taken, I hurried though the fire door, ascending two steps at a time and quickly reaching the first floor. I burst into the foyer and hurried for the door. I braced myself for the stormy weather on the other side.

HOLDING BACK TEARS,IWAITEDon the curb outside The House of Beauregard, my gaze snapping over to the front door, my heart racing, hoping Astor didn’t try to stop me.

Covered in a sticky sweat from the humidity, I wiped my brow as I doubled-checked to make sure my ledger was still in my handbag.

I’d just had a close brush in Penelope’s office with Taylor. She’d walked in as I had finished searching for my ledger. As far as I could tell I hadn’t alerted her to what I was trying to accomplish there. Still, if she mentioned the encounter to Penelope, and she probably would, the storm would not just be out here.

Leaves swirled in a frenzy as the wind bent the surrounding trees at torturous angles, whipping my clothes and hair. Relief hit me when I saw Damien’s BMW turning the corner. I hated myself for having him pick me up…especially after the poisonous words he’d spewed about Astor.

I have no choice.

I had to make it back to Dunedin and with this hurricane brewing no driver other than my crazy ex would risk it either. He wanted to get back to Embry, so his motivation to help me wasn’t unselfish. More than this, he loved to be proven right.

I didn’t want to believe Damien’s gossip about Astor’s past. There was no record of it online when I’d searched for proof that any of it was true. And so much time had passed it made me wonder if people had gotten their facts wrong.

Thoughts of Astor suffering stayed with me all the way to his home on the water. He’d saved my life in there without a second thought from that downed power-line. Surely if there was anything sinister about him he’d have let that cable get me. Then again, maybe he just needed me to deliver those final notes on that perfume.

I had to grab my belongings and then put South Beach behind me.

I was leaving behind a part of me I couldn’t define…a part that had started to believe there was someone else out there for me. Perhaps someone I would love even more than Damien.

Say it. Admit you love Astor.

“I wish it was different,” I muttered to myself.