Page 145 of Perfume Girl
“That thing with our ex-employee.”
“You mean Raquel?”
“Yes.” She looked annoyed because to her it was obvious.
I took a gulp of Scotch and it warmed my throat as it went down. “I couldn’t be more excited about our new formula.”
“Me too. Glad that other stuff is behind us.” Penelope turned to Mirabelle. “Lots of drama at work.”
“What?” Mirabelle shouted over the rave.
“Problems at work,” repeated Penelope.
“Something came up that I want to talk with you about,” I said. “I can’t find the formula you wrote for our new scent.” I held her gaze. “I need a breakdown.”
She swallowed hard and that made my gut twist in doubt.
“I have it in my office,” Penelope said. “Can we not talk about work?”
I leaned forward to ask her another question.
Penelope leaped to her feet and beamed at me. “I have a gift for you.”
“Can I finish my drink?”
“Bring it.”
“Find somewhere we can talk.” I pushed myself up and followed her, carrying my drink across the floor and through a doorway. We entered a private booth decorated with plush velvet seats and wispy red veils hanging here and there.
“Sit there,” Penelope said, pointing. “I’ll be right back.”
I threw back my drink and looked around for somewhere to set my glass, assuming she’d gone to the bathroom. Five minutes later, my sister walked back in followed by a stunning brunette.
The woman bit her lip suggestively as she unhooked her bra, revealing natural tits, her nipples beading from the chill.
She idled up to me with a flirtatious look in her eyes.
“Whatever he wants,” said Penelope.
“Sure.” The brunette sat beside me. “Lap dance?”
I looked up at my sister. “I think we can take it from here.”
Penelope flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder and laughed, glancing back at us as she walked out. “Have fun!”
With my sister gone, I turned my focus on the stripper. “What’s your name?”
“Tiffany.”
“Your real name?” I smiled at her.
“Do you want another drink? I can get you one.” She stood for a second to reposition herself on my lap, and then leaned forward to kiss me.
I pressed my hand to her chest to stop her. “I’m seeing someone.”
“They don’t need to know.” She went for my zipper.
I gripped her wrists and my gaze rose to meet hers. “What perfume are you wearing?”
