Once Kathryn had left, Aurelie clapped her hands together to get our attention.
‘Challenge two is here. This week you’ll work with your mentor creating a perfume together. There’s no gallivanting around Paris for this one.’ To that the room let out a sigh of relief. While it had been great to see the sights, we’d run some miles, and my legs had been heavy as stone for days after. ‘Instead, you’ll be driven to different destinations around France. Vincent believed that quality perfume started at the source.’
I’d read about Vincent and his beliefs about sourcing products for his perfumery. Elements like lavender were from chemical free fields in Provence, and rose petals from organic farms in Normandy – in that instance a rose was not just a rose. Leclére had strict quality control processes and it reflected in their fragrances. Some larger perfumeries used hothouse roses to save money but this was against every principle Vincent held dear.
He had searched regions of France himself, taking time to find the right lavender fields, the best flower farms for resins, balsams, spices, grasses and fruits to name but a few. After harvesting, then came the extraction process, then the blending where we perfumers came into it, and then the ageing process. All of this depended on the high-quality producers.
‘So,’ Aurelie continued, speaking over excited whispers. ‘The locations are as follows, Grasse, for Lila, that’s where you’ll find our factory, and Sebastien’s uncle who runs things there. You’ll be given instructions once you arrive. Provence for Del, Nice for Anastacia and Bordeaux for Lex and Clementine.’
‘Why are we both going?’ Clementine asked pouting.
‘Why not?’ Aurelie threw back, giving Clementine a long stare to which I hid a smile. Clementine would have her hands full trying to sabotage Lex. He might have come across as laid-back but he was no one’s fool. Perhaps the management team knew exactly what Clementine was up to, and were putting Lex in her way. Besides, their mentors would be there alongside them – but could they survive a week with Clementine? I shook my head just thinking about her and her ploys to get ahead. Nothing was sacred.
‘You have an hour to pack, your drivers are outside waiting. You’ll head back Friday for a class with another esteemed perfumer.’
I tried to catch Sebastien’s attention but he was conferring with a Leclére employee. I didn’t want our visit to Provence to be awkward after our near-miss kiss. But this morning it was almost as if he was purposely ignoring me. Well two could play at that game! I didn’t have time for these ridiculous feelings, these clumsy altercations. But with him being my mentor it made things difficult.
As we left the room, I hung back to congratulate Lex. ‘Hey, well done, Mister. I’m so proud of you.’
He grinned. ‘Ah, luck of the draw and that’s all it was.’
‘It was amazing perfumery skills, so don’t downplay it. You deserved to win. What was your perfume called?’
‘Hope.’
‘And what does hope smell like to you, Lex?’
‘It’s the cool of the shade under a palm frond, the juice from a fresh mango, sand and salt and light and shade, but most of all it’s the waft of hope itself on the breeze, and the girl of your dreams a few steps away.’
I smiled. ‘So there is hope?’ I said. ‘With the girl?’ I sensed Lex had unfinished business somewhere. Just occasionally I caught him downcast, as if he was reminiscing about someone. The woman on beach perhaps?
‘Nah, just an old man living in the past.’
‘You’re not that old, Lex!’
‘Compared to you young cats, I am.’
Obviously he wasn’t ready to share his woes. ‘So how do you bottle hope, and have it interpreted as such?’ This whole bottling a feeling idea still bamboozled me. I understood the value of it, but how did you know it would translate for someone else? Like Nan had wanted to bottle love… How? What if love smelled different to everyone? Sure, what we made was inspired by the notion of it, but it wasn’t tangibly it.
‘That’s the thing, Del. It’s everything and nothing. You just have to be bold and hope they understand what you’re trying to do. It was just damn luck on my part, but I hoped…’ he smiled at the word ‘…that they’d understand.’
I shook my head, knowing I had to solve this damn riddle myself, but that was thing about perfume, sometimes it was unsolvable like the most complex mathematical equation. And it was all subjective too.
‘Enjoy Bordeaux.’
‘I’m gonna dash out now and buy some earplugs, all the burgundy in France can’t dull that voice of Clementine’s.’
I laughed, imaging the fireworks.
‘Off you go, America. Kick ass, yeah?’
I gave him a quick hug. ‘See you at the end of the week.’
Packed and ready, I headed to the car to find Sebastien standing stiff as a toy solider, his hands in pockets as he surveyed the avenue.
‘Del,’ he said. ‘There you are.’ Four simple words that had my heart hammering. Damn it.
‘Here I am.’
‘Safe, for another week.’
‘I’m so relieved.’
‘It was very close.’
‘Yes. Too close. I promise the judges made the right choice and I’ll prove it to them this week.’
‘I know you will, Del. You have a gift, there’s no question about that.’ He gazed so deeply into my eyes, all thought of perfumery leapt from my mind. He stared at me like I was the only person on the planet. There was such an intensity about him and I had to remind myself to speak, and not just stare back like some dumbstruck fool.
My distractions had got the better of me so far, and I was determined not to break my focus again. But damn the man, he made my heart rumba of its own accord, and what the heck was I supposed to do about that? I went to touch my lips, remembering the accidental kiss, before I thought better of it. I blamed it on his perfume, that’s all it was. He smelt so dang good and it was lulling me into a false sense of…
‘So Provence,’ I said. I mentally added great conversationalist to my repertoire.
‘You’ll enjoy it, Del. At least I hope you do. About last night—’
Oh god, the about-last-night talk. I held up a hand to stop him. I didn’t want to hear him tell me it shouldn’t have happened because I knew that. And I was mortified by it. I’d asked Clementine what the kissing etiquette was so I’d never mess up again. Kiss left cheek first, and then right. Whose left though, yours or theirs? And in some parts of France it was a three-barreled kiss but not for Parisians. Confusing or what?
‘I wanted to apologize for that. I didn’t realize there’s a certain side to kiss, well not kiss, peck, and I got muddled. I am a walking disaster, you said it yourself. Let’s just be glad I didn’t kiss, I mean, peck your ear or something.’
His eyes reflected the confusion I felt. ‘Oui, a mistake. I’d hate for people to accuse me of anything untoward. It would not be appropriate as your mentor and head of Leclére.’
‘Of course.’ I wanted to cover my face and run. ‘This competition means everything to me and I won’t jeopardize it, nor your reputation.’
With an apologetic smile. ‘It’s…it’s for the best.’
Trust me to feel a sizzle for a man I couldn’t have. But it was so clearly one sided with him letting me down gently, just like I’d seen him do with Clementine and anyone else in his orbit.
Before I started bemoaning my fate, I said, ‘Definitely.’ And hoped he’d let it drop so my mortification wasn’t obvious.
I jumped in the car, greeting the elderly driver with a ‘bonjour’. In order to appear unflustered, I texted my sister, suddenly missing her and wished I had the privacy to call and pour my heart out but Sebastien soon joined me so that was that.