Page 150 of Perfume Girl
Yes, he fucking well would.
Reaching for my phone, I inhaled deeply, needing to tell someone what had happened here.
I had missed a text from Astor:Hey, Raquel, I wanted to check on you.
I didn’t want to alarm him so I went with:Something just happened. I need to talk to you about it.
Astor:I miss you.
Miss you too.I nearly sobbed in relief that he still felt that way.
Astor:Sorry for the misunderstanding.
I let out a sigh. His words meant everything.
I glanced up to make sure Damien hadn’t followed me outside. Reassured he was still in the house, I texted Astor back:I’m sorry if I hurt you. It was never my intention.
Astor:Can I see you?
Yes, oh, yes. I needed to talk about all that had happened and hopefully clear the air, too.
Me:I know who stole my perfume.
Astor:Do you have evidence?
The question brought on a bout of nausea. All evidence had been destroyed and that photo I had taken of the formula wouldn’t be enough. All I had was my word.
Astor:Still there?
Me:I know Damien did this.
Astor:Meet me on the Riveting.
Me:I can be there in half an hour.
Astor:See you soon.
I threw my phone into my handbag and sped off down the winding road, knowing I would never see this neighborhood again.
Within half an hour, I was boarding theRiveting.Astor’s impressive yacht had been easy to find in the harbor. I imagine he’d chosen this location because his home was too personal and work wouldn’t have given us much privacy. This place would enable us to talk freely.
I couldn’t wait to get everything off my chest. I wasn’t sure how Astor would react when I told him what Damien had done, but at least he had reassured me in his texts that he missed me. There was still hope for us.
Being near water always soothed me. I stared out at the horizon, looking forward to the day when I could get my life back to some kind of normal routine again.
I made my way to the upper deck and walked into the luxury dining area, stopping in my tracks.
Penelope folded her arms. “Astor sends his regards.”
“He’s not here?” My voice broke with the realization.
“Something came up.”
I turned, wanting to leave, wanting to put distance between us. I didn’t want to have a conversation with this woman without witnesses.
“We want to put this behind us, Ms. Wren,” she said.
I paused in the doorway. “Put what?”
