Page 53 of Scent Of Obsession
I was puzzled. Patrick had one of the biggest egos in the perfumery world. Apologizing to an inexperienced, twenty-one-year-old woman clearly wasn’t something he’d have done of his own free will.
“It’s okay.” I took the time to read the list carefully and checked on every oil. “Thank you. Everything is here.”
“Per-perfect. Miss Bellerose, will you please tell Radcliff that I did as he asked?” With hunching shoulders, he glanced at me hesitantly, his thumb rubbing nervously against his palm.
Something was off. I felt the pulse of my heart in my throat, thinking of all the rumors about Radcliff.
“What do you mean?”
“That you’re satisfied with the oils,” he added hesitantly. A drop of sweat formed on his forehead that he wiped with the back of his hand. “Please. And if I can do anything for you, I’m here to accommodate you.”
“No, thank you, I have everything I need but—” I approached Patrick, searching for his stare, but he backed away. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem tense. Is there something you’d like to—”
“Just tell Mr. Radcliff!” he bit out, his voice going shrill. At the realization of it, he rubbed his forehead, a mask of helplessness and fear forming on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I should go.”
“Wait!” I called after him, but he had already fled.
I fell on my chair, exhaling sharply.
Closing my eyes for an instant, I knew later today I’d have to confront Radcliff. I wasn’t naive enough to believe there wasn’t a dark part of him. After all, what type of man would ask to have an aphrodisiac made. I just hoped and believed from the bottom of my heart that I could reach out to his humanity.
But for now, I needed to focus on my perfume. After all, it was what mattered the most to me.
And for that, I had an aphrodisiac to make.
I need to go where no perfumers have ever been before,I promised myself.
The lab looked like an apothecary store. Hundreds of vials like potions. A full shelf of essential oils. Labels on hundreds of unsuccessful tries.
I thought the Devil’s Corpse would have no mystery for me by now, and god was I wrong. Finding the chemical compounds of flowers was easy. Extraction too. But I needed to create a formula and find the right scents to match it. Basically, I was here to create magic—or do witchcraft.
Each flower was different.
Each flower smelled different.
The rules were that there were none, only beliefs waiting to be shaken and reinvented.
“I suck!” That was a cold fact, and I hated it.
I calmed my nerves and watched the sunset pouring through the windows. I decided it was time to call it a day—a failed, unavailing, inefficacious one. Simply, a waste of time. I threw my chemistry blouse on my desk, hearing the barks of Cerba from outside.
Radcliff. He was facing the cliffs with a sinister confidence. Hands in his pockets, his usual pitch-black suit swaying with the bawling of the wind. Even from the back, he was imposing in the midst of the unwelcoming forest.
I left the lab and stalked toward him, witnessing the fury of the crashing waves on the hard rocks. The violence of the scenery was an invitation to jump. A direct gate to hell. I remembered the urban legends telling the tragic fate of people ending their lives at the cliffs in hopes of entering the gates.
Even as I took place next to him, Radcliff remained aloof by my presence if it wasn’t for the way he made his knuckles crack. He didn’t bother to look at me, keeping his stare stuck on the ocean.
“I had my meeting with Patrick today,” I said.
“I know.” Still nothing. Not even a glimpse of the man I was on a date with at the opera. “Are you satisfied?”
“Yes, I got everything on my list, but I don’t know, something was off with Patrick. He insisted for me to tell you that everything was okay… Did you—” I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. There was no right way to formulate the question.
“Did I do what?” He turned around menacingly.
He darted his eyes to mine and appeared soulless. His height made me feel like an insect he could squash. The depths of his eyes were a somber summoning to chaos. I understood my desire for him had been lethal. A cocktail of fear, agony, and chemistry, deadly to my soul.
“I don’t know… It’s as if you had threatened him somehow. He was afraid.” And at this moment, so was I.
