Page 153 of Perfume Girl

I’d missed it before, but then again she’d been sitting on my lap and flirting. She was pretty and the dragon tattoo curling up her right arm hinted at a rebellious edge.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked her.

She threw an amused look at her friends and then smiled at me.

IPULLED THE LAST OFmy clothes out of the closet and packed them into my suitcases. With just a week left here I wanted to be ready when the time came to leave. It wasn’t so much that I had given up, I had just let go.

Everything was fine. I was doing great and getting through this and as long as I kept busy, I wouldn’t think of him.

Him.

The man who had shined a light in my life made me feel alive again. The very man who had rescued me from the agony of divorce and betrayal, and all I had done in return was bring him pain. When I could no longer keep the memories at bay, my chest tightened and I lay on the mattress, rubbing my hand over my heart as though it could ease the ache.

As a form of self-punishment, I relived everything I had done…going to work at Astor’s company, letting us become more than friends, letting him fall for me.

I had been given the ultimate chance to love and be loved again and I had ruined it because I’d been obsessed with my perfume.

I should have been moving forward because that was where my happiness lay. Should have had faith in the here and now and savored every single second with Astor, because every single breath without him felt like an eternity.

I ran my hand over the duvet covering the mattress. This represented what I was willing to sacrifice—or maybe, just maybe, it had shown me what I was able to endure.

Perfume Girl would always be a part of me. I loved this store and had poured my soul into every corner, believing that losing it would break my heart. But causing Astor pain had hurt me worse.

I would never get over Damien’s cruelty and the thought of his betrayal clung to every cell in my body, a toxicity I didn’t deserve. He was willing to do anything to get me out of the way because the world he’d built would come tumbling down if the truth came out about how he’d gotten hold of his money. Embry probably wouldn’t stay with him if they lost their dream house.

I would find my own way to the truth.

I always do.

My thoughts went around and around trying to imagine how it had gone down. Had Damien reached out to Penelope at The House of Beauregard and led her to believe the scent was his to sell? She’d probably paid well for it. Though the fact she hid my ledger in her office hinted that she knew he’d sold it illegally.

If this scandal came out it would taint The House of Beauregard forever. Someone had to take the fall in all of this and that person was me, apparently.

The meeting on Astor’s yacht with Penelope a few days ago had offered me the chance to keep Perfume Girl open.

But I couldn’t accept her offer.

No amount of money would put this right and I’d refused to sign the nondisclosure agreement, too. Signing it would have proven to Astor that I had set out to manipulate him, that I hadn’t cared at all.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

Astor felt as much a part of me as each breath I inhaled, as though our souls had touched and were irrevocably connected in some way.

With most of my personal belongings packed away, I looked around this scant room that had served as my bedroom. There were lonely memories here but also happy ones…like those hours Astor had spent with me in this quiet room after coming all that way to make sure I was safe in the storm.

We were worth fighting for, but I knew he’d be protective of his sister—she was family, after all. But our relationship had burned brighter than any I’d ever had.

With thoughts of him still clouding my mind, I showered and then dressed in a short silver cocktail dress, the kind that would help me blend into the soirée that I was going to gatecrash tonight. This dress was my favorite Stella McCartney, and I felt feminine and sexy in it—and empowered, too.

After curling my hair into bouncing spirals, I applied make-up, going for a fresh look with light mascara and pink lipstick. I wasn’t trying to stand out—I just wanted to feel good about myself.

Taking action had always been my thing. Fighting in my own elegant way for what was right and doing everything in my power to protect my reputation. It was hard to be brave and push on, but I had to keep going because I had a goal worth fighting for.

The ringing of the shop’s doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I took the steps down toward the front of the store.

When I saw Damien standing on the other side of the door, I hesitated for a beat before relenting and unlocking it.

The man now standing in my shop with his hair disheveled, looking cute in his own bad boy way, meant nothing to me now. Affection had been replaced by scars, and what had once been love was now indifference.