Page 157 of Perfume Girl
We stepped away from each other.
“Penelope,” said Astor, “let’s take this somewhere quieter away from the—”
“What does she want?” She teetered a little.
“I invited her.” Astor gave me a kind smile. “HR sent her the invite at my request.”
“What the fuck?” Penelope glared at him. “Why?”
Astor moved closer and reached for her arm to help steady her.
“No.” She shoved away his hand and faced me. “This is a private event.”
“Penelope, it’s fine,” he said.
She looked horrified. “What do you mean?”
He reached for her arm again. “You’ve had too much to drink—”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice faltering.
“Because this is the cologne she left behind for us,” Astor said gently, “and she deserves to see it well received.”
I stared at him, realizing this event was showcasing the cologne I had created for him and not my stolen work. All the tension left my shoulders with this revelation.
“Why did you accept the invite?” snapped Penelope. “What do you hope to achieve?”
I reached into my handbag and held up the glass bottle. “I never saw your formula. Here is the proof I created the new scent that you say I stole from you. I could never have reverse-engineered it. You know that, Astor.”
Penelope glared at me. “I created it—”
“We both know that’s not true.” Astor turned to face her. “There were two bottles. I found the other one in my desk drawer.”
Penelope’s smile dissolved when she realized he was talking to her. “She’s manipulating you.”
“Don’t do this, Penny,” he pleaded with her.
“Don’t call me that,” she said bitterly. “Are you willing to throw it all away for her?”
“Go inside and I’ll join you soon, Penelope,” he said firmly.
“No, you don’t send me away. This company is as much mine as it is yours.” She hurried toward me. “Are you after more money?”
I flinched at her closeness. “I didn’t accept your offer, remember?”
Astor looked horrified. “Did you pay her to go away?”
“No amount of money is worth losing my integrity,” I said.
“That’s no proof.” She stared at the bottle. “You stole that from us.”
“She never saw the formula,” Astor verified.
I offered the bottle to him, but he shook his head and smiled at me. I lowered my arm to my side, feeling unsure.
He faced Penelope. “If you created this why didn’t you recognize the scent on Tiffany? A professional would recall the scent they masterminded.”
“Who the fuck’s Tiffany?” she snapped. “The stripper who gave you a lap dance?”
