Free The Secret Ways of Perfume by Cristina Caboni

nodded goodbye. “No. See you next Saturday.” Liliane could only purse her lips in frustration.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Alain Le Notre. The very name was terrifying. Monique straightened the skirt of her dress. Perched on an uncomfortable antique armchair, she cast a quick glance around the room. Her eyes settled on a desk that might once have belonged to a French monarch and had since found its way to the
maison’
s Head of Human Resources. Marquetry, ornaments, mother-of-pearl and rosewood. Why did men have to flaunt their power like this?
    She stood up and went over to the window. Paris was dozing under a gray drizzle. Only a few brave tourists had dragged themselves out, conspicuous in colorful plastic raincoats designed to protect their state-of-the-art cameras. Monique stared at the fat raindrops clinging to the glass, a knot of anxiety in her stomach. What if Le Notre retracted his offer? What then?
    Silently, Monique chided herself. She had to stop thinking about the consequences of something that hadn’t even happened yet. She was just like her mother! She wondered whether Elena would accept Jasmine’s invitation to visit Grasse. Not that Monique agreed with the suggestion—personally, she didn’t think Elena should be wallowing in the past. Having fun, being around people, that’s what she needed. But, above all, her friend needed to accept her true nature. Once Elena realized what a unique talent she had, she’d become one of the most sought-after noses in the world. Easily. Except that Elena hated being the center of attention.
    Monique was the one who needed to be in the limelight. She wasso good at solving everyone else’s problems, it was a shame she was completely hopeless when it came to her own.
    Another sigh. She straightened her skirt again. Then she heard the door behind her.
    â€œMonsieur Le Notre,” she said, turning around.
    â€œIt’s good to see you again, mademoiselle
.
”
    Alain’s eyes were a cool shade of gray, but at that moment they gleamed, delighted. He must have been around forty, but his slender, athletic body showed that he took serious care of himself and his appearance. He was tall, smart and sophisticated.
    â€œBenzoin, bergamot, vetiver, sandalwood and a mixture of cedarwood,” Monique recited. “And tonka bean.”
    She didn’t know what had come over her, but she recognized the fragrance the man was wearing. It was one of her own creations. Nothing special—any perfumier could have come up with an essence like that for a man like Le Notre. He smiled, revealing a row of bright white teeth to go with his sporty and naturally tanned appearance. A boat, she’d bet. Le Notre looked like a seafaring man.
    â€œPlease, mademoiselle, let’s take a seat.” He led her over to a small sofa and sat down beside her. It wasn’t the first time Monique had met Alain. She’d already had a chance to appreciate his vibrant personality.
    â€œI like the way you work.” Le Notre smiled, and went on: “Your intuition is quite incredible; you can find original, solid blends at affordable prices—and that practical approach is just what I want for my new line. I want action, certainty, energy—and for it to be accessible to a wide audience. Do you think you can give me what I need?”
    â€œLet me think about it,” Monique said calmly, her heart pounding. This man had taken her limitations, the things that made her ordinary, and turned them into strengths. She was thrilled, and so deeply moved by Alain’s words that she almost forgot to breathe. It was as though she’d found someone who could appreciate her for her faults.
    The man gave her a pensive stare. The perfume hung in the air, a bond between them.
    â€œI . . . I think we can discuss it,” she said again, this time with more certainty. Then she straightened her shoulders and looked