Page 126 of Perfume Girl
“Eight. How’s it going?”
“Almost there.” All I had to do was add the Orris. I nudged it aside so he wouldn’t see it.
“Let me sniff?” he said.
“I want you to experience the grand finale.”
“Sounds enticing.” His lips brushed my neck. “Let’s eat.”
“I just need a few more minutes.”
“Come on, the food will get cold. You work too hard.”
I slid off the barstool and let him weave his fingers through mine. This was where I had gone wrong with Damien…I had put my work before my relationship and that couldn’t happen again. This was me turning a new leaf and not being so obsessed that those around me were forgotten.
Astor’s attention turned to the window. “Things are really kicking up out there.”
He led me upstairs where he’d placed two plates on the countertop, ready for the ravioli bubbling on the stove.
I only had one chair, so we resigned ourselves to sitting on my makeshift bed on the floor, and I marveled at how Astor was willing to rough it for me. The ravioli was delicious. This was soul food and I felt so much better already, my stomach full from the tasty tomato pasta dish.
“Thank you for letting me stay at your place,” I said. “I’m going to find somewhere soon.”
He looked surprised. “You’re always welcome in my home, Raquel.”
“Things change so fast. One minute I was living in a home I loved and then suddenly I couldn’t stay there anymore. Damien refused to leave and, to be honest, there were too many memories.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I miss my books. Don’t have room for them here. They’re in storage along with some pieces of furniture I couldn’t let go of. Damien kept the rest.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But can we not talk about him?”
“Sure, of course. I’m sorry.”
“I just want to talk about us, Raquel.”
I nodded. “I bet you have a great collection of books at Bridgestone.”
He looked thoughtful. “When I was a kid I used to hide out in the library. I found this old book with photos of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. That was the first time I discovered that life really is full of contradictions.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Many of those paintings on the Vatican ceiling are of female Sibyls, who were ancient oracles. Michelangelo revered them for their ability to predict the future. And yet later, women were burned alive as punishment by that same church for supposedly having that same gift.”
“How did you discover that so young?”
“Like you said, we had a great selection of books.” He looked at me with a smile. “It was the best thing about the house.”
“I never thought of how the church turned on itself like that.”
“Well, it’s a male-dominated society.” He gave a shrug. “That’s why children are confused. We send mixed messages.”
“You don’t seem too fond of that house?”
Astor stared at me. “How do you mean?”
“Why did you leave there when you were so young?”
