Page 158 of Perfume Girl

He looked over at me. “There was no lap dance. We merely talked.”

“You enjoyed it so much.” Penelope cackled. “You got her to dance for me.”

Astor looked calm. “I dabbed her with the perfume. Went back to see Tiffany the next day and she told me you didn’t notice it. You didn’t ask what she was wearing.”

“Because there were so many other scents around us—”

“You didn’t notice it,” he said, staring at her, “because you didn’t create it.”

My world spun.

I had been exonerated…this was really happening and Astor was really defending me. They continued to argue, but I hardly heard them—I was too overwhelmed by the truth finally being brought to light.

“So you went back to see that stripper you liked?” Penelope sneered at him. “That’s interesting.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied calmly. “I suspected you had bought the formula off Damien Silver who had stolen it from Raquel. I needed to see proof before I took action.”

She looked shocked. “Damien told you that?”

“Penelope, I know he bought a multi-million dollar house on the waterfront.” Astor tilted his head. “On a chef’s salary.”

She glared at him, aghast. “You don’t believe me, your own sister?”

He smiled. “Tell me the components. Right now, the base notes.”

“We have guests, Astor. People are waiting.”

“I’m waiting,” he said firmly.

Her lips trembled.

Astor gave her a sympathetic look. “If I made you feel in any way that you had to come up with a new perfume to impress me, I’m sorry.”

She held his gaze, mulling over her answer. “You’re jealous I invented something that doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Don’t,” he said with tenderness.

“I own half the company.”

“So what is the issue here?” he asked.

Her breathing became panicked. She looked lost. “I need to repay this debt.”

He looked surprised “What debt? There is none.”

“Every day I carry around guilt for what happened to us. Every day I see what it did to you.”

“It’s behind us, Penelope.”

She wagged a finger at him. “No, it’s not. I carry the burden of what happened with me every day. You know this and you use it against me.”

“I never have.”

“You’re usingheragainst me.”

“How?” He raised his hands in frustration.

She glared at him. “She’s an interloper. She needs to go. She’ll push me out.”