Page 6 of Perfume Girl
I threw my sister an unimpressed smile.
And then it wafted over me…
She was wearing a scent so devastating it took me a few seconds to gather my thoughts. The notes stilled my mind and elicited an easy escape from the present—a masterstroke that was truly humbling.
Penelope’s smirk revealed her mischievous side. She knew I’d picked up on her new perfume and the fact she was wearing a competitor’s scent was maddening. Irked, I perused the menu pretending to read it as I quietly seethed.
Skye reappeared and took our order, all the while avoiding my gaze. That deranged whiff of bubblegum came back around to assault me and I coughed to clear my airway. She caught the intensity of my disapproving glare and spun around and hurried briskly toward the kitchen.
“What happened?” Penelope reached for her serviette and laid it over her lap.
“In what regard?”
“Astor?” Penelope said, her tone amused. “What did you say to her?”
“The waitress?” I recalled our last interaction. “Something like, ‘I’ll have the lobster salad. Light on the dressing.’”
“You scared her.”
“Me?” I reached for my glass.
Penelope blew out an exasperated sigh.
“So has the time come for you to leave the business?” I asked flatly.
“Why would I?”
“That’s not why we’re here? So you can tell me privately?”
“No, it’s not.” She sat back. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re never in the office. You hate the lab. You’re reluctant to attend PR meetings. And I’m using the word ‘reluctant’ as a courtesy. Though you do enjoy wearing the profits.” That strike was aimed at her Chanel suit. “What’s going on?”
She waved her hand in annoyance. “I work from home. You should try it. You work too hard. You’ve grown boring.”
“In what way?”
Skye reappeared with two plates of imaginatively displayed salads and placed one in front of each of us.
She focused on Penelope. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”
My sister gave a gesture of dismissal and turned back to me. “How’s Vedado?”
“My horses are fine. All of them.”
“He’s your favorite.”
“I don’t have a favorite.” My spine straightened. She was wearing a fragrance I didn’t recognize. It was remarkable. “What perfume are you wearing?”
“I’ve been working on something unique for us.”
I sat back stunned at her admission.
Her face brightened. “It’s exciting and arousing and—”
“You created this?”
Penelope lifted her Hermes bag and rested it on her lap, rummaging around in it for an annoyingly long time.
