An incessant shrill echoed in the room. Even though Quinn pulled the pillow over her head it did nothing to drown out the noise and she knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon. Lifting her head, she groaned at the knife-jab to her temple. Her hand fumbled around and eventually it punched the alarm clock. The ringing continued. Then she saw her the lit screen of her phone.
“Oh no, I hope it isn’t Sheila.” Quinn picked up the slim device and pressed answer.
“Quinn, you took your time.”
The ambivalent tones of Tim Andrews had her wanting to throw the phone at the wall. “Go to hell, liar.”
“Hey, I think that’s the pot calling the kettle black. Give me a break, Quinn. Driscol’s is the main player for us in that marketplace. What they want they get, and I guess you won’t have a job if you don’t make it happen. Right?”
Quinn curled her upper lip. Wait until I get back. He’s going to have the runs for a week when I spike his coffee. “Really, well I won’t be the only one. You sold them on the product line, right? What do you want anyway?”
“Samantha Driscol wants to meet the perfume maker at Desrosiers. She has a huge following on Twitter. Apparently, what she says can influence hundreds of thousands of young people, particularly women. Can you arrange it?”
“When?” Quinn shot up out of bed and her mind cleared of the alcohol-infected mist from the previous evening.
“Oh, that got your attention. I’ll have to check but she was talking Friday afternoon or Saturday morning.”
Quinn closed her eyes and tried to gather the scrambled numerous conversations she’d had in the past forty-eight hours.
“Make it Saturday morning. Desrosiers won’t be working at the factory. If she wants the whole experience tell her to stay over Friday evening and that I can promise her that she will have a great time…the natives are friendly.”
“Right. I’ll call or text you her answer. Are you back today?”
“No, Sheila wants me to remain until I have the required result. Tell Claudia I miss her and the wonderful morning caffeine fix and donuts.”
“Yeah whatever. We don’t miss you here, Quinn. I heard Sheila say yesterday that she doesn’t know what you do around the place. I’d be looking for another job…just a heads up.”
Before she could give the weasel a scathing reply he ended the call. “Coward.” Yet, he had provided another lifeline potential for Desrosiers.
She speed dialed Tay. “Tay, what do you know about a Samantha Driscol?”
“Well, good morning to you too.”
“Sorry, Tay, I’m partially hung over. Please, if you don’t know who this person is, can you check?”
“Well I should have known that…what’s new? Not intimate with this particular Driscol but I know the family name. Can you give me more to go on?”
“She’s a Twitter person, and according to one of my associates she has a ‘huge following’ were his words. If that’s right, Tay, she might be the tide that turns in our favor.” There was silence. “Are you still there, Tay?”
“In our favor, hmm, have you finally found something to attach your life to?”
“Don’t be silly, Tay, this is business. I’m trying to keep my job.”
“Okay, but I’m not convinced. I’ll check it out. If she’s a social media icon it won’t take long. Quinn?”
“Taylor?”
“Is there more to this than business because—”
“Business, it’s all business. Thanks, Tay. I must go. I promised to be at Desrosiers early and I think I’m already late. Kiss Ruby for me. Love you, Tay, bye.”
Gazing at the phone, Quinn wondered how she could explain her current circumstance and not be thought of as crazy, but crazy she was.
“Damn you, Grady, I think you’ve smitten me and…maybe a certain person is becoming important as well.”
†
Larry Davis locked his bike in the designated area in the parking lot. He faced the building that he’d worked in for the seven years since leaving college with a second degree in chemistry and physics. He’d seen an ad in the college newspaper for the role of lab technician at Desrosiers. He didn’t think that he had a chance in hell of getting the job when he applied. He figured there were so many others equally or better qualified and he wasn’t the most social person in the world. His interview on Skype had been surreal. Genevieve Desrosiers by some miracle had managed to have him talking all about his life, ambitions, and hobbies. She had offered him the job at the end of the call. Now there was a chance he was going to lose a job he loved and the town he now called home, more so than where he was born and brought up in Fayetteville.
The most important person he knew was Fiona Brown. He had fallen for her the first moment he had seen her as a bank teller when he opened an account at the local bank branch. He hadn’t had the courage to ask her out on a date yet, always feeling like there would be time. They did cycle at the same club, and last night she had actually asked his opinion about what was happening at work. Not that he could tell her much—she seemed to know more than he did. He gathered his knapsack and walked toward the side entrance, but he frowned when he saw a dark figure pushing at the door. When the gravel crunched under his feet, the person turned and ran off toward the perimeter fence. He was too far away to see his face other than it was a man in dark clothing with a hoodie. After arriving at the door, he looked at the digital lock and saw several marks etched into the metal. Punching in the pass code, he entered and ensured the door was locked behind him. Instead of going straight to the lab, he headed for Felix’s office.
“Felix.” He shouted to the stout man talking to Stan.
“Is it important, Larry?” The reply sounded stressed and it was only seven-thirty in the morning.
“I saw someone trying to break in by the side entrance. The man ran when I walked toward him.” Larry was shocked when Felix walked hurriedly toward him.
“What…what did you see?” Felix virtually coughed up the words, his face ruddy at the exertion.
“Should you have walked so fast, Felix? You’ll give yourself a heart attack.” Larry wished his words away at the look of censure he received. “Sorry. I don’t know who it was, he wore a hoodie, but he definitely didn’t want me to see him. He ran to the fence line and by the time I got to the door he was gone. There are some marks on the lock. I thought you’d want to know. Strange though, we’ve never had anything like that happen here before that I know of.”
“Definitely didn’t see a face?”
Larry shook his head.
“Thanks, Larry. Don’t tell anyone, please, until I check it out.”
“What about Ms. Desrosiers, shouldn’t she know?” Larry thought the request odd. “I mean I’ll be seeing her in—”
“No,” Felix growled. “She has enough on her plate. I’ll handle it.” He grabbed Larry’s arm. “Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see anything significant?”
“Sorry, Felix, but if I remember anything more, I will let you know. I’d better get to work.” Felix removed his hand.
“Larry, it was right to tell me. Thank you.” Felix turned away and headed toward the exit.
Larry walked up the mezzanine steps to the first floor and headed toward the lab, wondering why no one else should know. Did Felix know who the person was? Entering the room, he placed his knapsack in the cubby on the wall and then looked over the area. He loved this space, it was his environment, and the thought of losing it was abhorrent on so many levels.
†
Gene’s stomach reminded her of a jelly that had been disturbed—wobbly was a great description. The thing was that everything around her was familiar. The building. The people. Her office. The main laboratory overlooking the parking lot. She saw everything except Dee. She glanced at her watch, it was seven forty. Dee was usually there by now. She had watched Dee arrive at work, park her compact vehicle in pretty much the same space for the last … Oh god only knows how many years. Then she remembered…
“I passed, Ms. Desrosiers. It’s all because of you,” Dee gushed, waving a piece of paper in the air.
Gene smiled at her nineteen-year-old protégé. “You did this, Dee, not me. I was just there as a sounding board. I think it’s wonderful.”
“It is. I’ve always wanted to see more of the area. Dad isn’t much for Sunday drives out and my mom, well she’s a homebody.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and a bubble of laughter escaped and she grinned. “Sorry, too much information. Anyway, now I have my own transport, nothing can stop me.”
“Then perhaps you might venture over one Sunday and have lunch with me and I will show you the greenhouse. You will love it—” Gene stopped suddenly. I’m being presumptuous. Dee will have a raft load of friends and I must look like an ancient to her. “What I meant was that you and your friends, but of course I’d need notice.”
There was a pregnant pause and then the phone rang, and Gene eagerly answered effectively ending the conversation.
Dee had never come by and why would she when they were only ever work colleagues. She had to face the fact that she was eleven years older and right now probably looked every single one of those years. She even had the stray gray hair to prove it. The door opened, and she looked up in eager anticipation. Her smile dissipated as Larry Davis entered.
“Morning, Ms. Desrosiers, do you have a few minutes?”
“Yes, what can I do for you, Larry?”
Larry frowned. “Can we speak in your office, it’s important.”
Gene exhaled slowly. Damn now it is something else. What did I do to have a target on my back? “Sure.” She picked up her keys, gave the parking lot one more look and then shepherded Larry to her office.
†
Kicking the tire won’t fix it, idiot. Dee scowled at the flat.
“I’m going to be late. Damn and I wanted to see Gene before she becomes embroiled in all the negative stuff.” She looked around noting that the only thing in earshot was her inanimate vehicle. “Where are the people who I see every day when I need them?”
Dee looked at her wristwatch and saw it was already seven. When she drove her car, she arrived at work within fifteen minutes. Now that she had to walk, it was going to take at least thirty minutes if she took the short cuts, but most likely forty.
Sure enough, it was seven forty when she arrived at the lab. Gene wasn’t there. Dee headed for the desk in hopes that Gene might have left her a message. No amount of shuffling the papers around found anything of the kind.
“Damn.” Then she flicked a finger to her temple. No negative thoughts here, this is our good place. She reached for her lab coat and began her usual routine.
†
Felix scratched his head, gazing at the marked digital panel on the side door and ground his teeth. This was a first. Vandalism maybe, but then why did the man do it when people were here or about to be? Who would want to get inside, especially now, they didn’t have that much stock to pilfer? The dull tone of his pager had him reaching for it from his belt. He read the short message. Then pressed the cancel button.
He looked around the area particularly in the direction of the perimeter fence and noted that if a person were agile enough, they could easily climb over it. Larry’s description didn’t indicate that. He walked over to the general area Larry had said the person ran and looked for any obvious clues as to who it could be. Kids, maybe on a dare. Then he saw a corner of the fence bent back. Ah. He inspected the fence and found that the wire had been cut. This was more than a trivial exploit.
The pager sprang into action again and he frowned before he glanced at the message and cancelled it. He gave the area one more look and then headed back to the factory building.
When Felix arrived on the main factory floor, Stan called him over and he headed in that direction.
“Whatever Charlie did, he did good because we have supplies. Want me to get them out to the areas?”
Felix pondered the question; it should be a simple yes, except there might be some prioritizing.
“I’m going to have to check upstairs. Give me half an hour. The boss wants to see me anyway.” He headed up the mezzanine steps and within a minute was knocking on Ms. Desrosiers’ door. There was a curt “enter” and Felix cringed, thinking that her tone didn’t sound good.
“You paged me, Ms. Desrosiers?” he said the second he entered the room.
“I did twice but you didn’t come immediately. Where have you been?”
Felix saw a hint of steel in the gaze and knew a lie wasn’t going to cut it. He walked closer to the desk where she sat in a chair in front of it. “Larry mentioned that there appeared to be a would-be intruder at the side entrance. I was checking it out.”
“What did you find?” Her tone was cool and her gaze intent.
“There does appear to be some minor damage to the lock and I found a hole in the fence that has been deliberately cut.” He watched her expression change to incredulity.
“I thought Larry must be wrong. We’ve never had any vandalism or theft that I know of. Do we need to alert the police?”
Gene stood and walked around the desk. Not a tall woman she was about an inch shorter than Felix. He guessed she was probably about five-five. She wasn’t what he’d call attractive either. Her jaw was too square and her nose crooked, but she did have a flawless complexion. One would never think she was in her forties.
“Felix, did you hear me?”
“Sorry. I’m going to make some inquiries tonight, after work. Could be a teenage prankster…generally Desrosiers is well thought of in town.” Felix rubbed his nose. “I’d rather keep it low key at the moment if you don’t mind?”
“I agree, but you will let me know if there is a problem. Larry mentioned you didn’t want me to know.” Desrosiers sighed. “Why is that?”
Larry was going to get an earful at lunch for this. “I didn’t want you to know until I knew the facts.” He looked at his hands. “You have enough on your plate right now. Besides it’s my job to ensure the security of the plant.” A hand rested on his arm startling him.
“Thank you for watching my back and our employees. I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for all the years you have supported the business and our family.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Desrosiers,” he gruffly replied. Felix knew his cheeks were red because they burnt like hell. Praise was something he’d rather hear second hand than face to face. It was his job after all.
There was a hurried knock on the door. Ms. Desrosiers muttered, “enter,” and it opened.
“Gene, I’m sorry about last night…Dad? Oh, I’m sorry.”
Felix looked at his daughter and noted that she must take after him for her cheeks were flaming.
“Your father was telling me about a possible intruder or would-be intruder. He’s handling it.”
“Thank you, Ms. Desrosiers,” Felix nodded. “Yes, nothing to worry your pretty head about, Dee. Oh, there was something else, Ms. Desrosiers. We’ve received the goods from the suppliers who are backing us. Do we have a priority list?”
“Yes. Sutter’s,” Gene and Dee said in unison.
Felix’s eyes opened wide at the unison reply. “Right, do you need me for anything else?”
“No, thank you, Felix. Keep me informed if you have production problems.”
He nodded and left the room with a wink at his daughter. Outside the door his expression became puzzled. What did Dee mean she was sorry about last night? When did she see the boss after hours? He slowly made his way back to more familiar territory, the art of making superb perfume.
†
Gene watched Felix leave, and he appeared perplexed. The question was why—the intruder, the order of business, or his daughter. Definitely a puzzle and one she doubted she would find out about. Her mind switched immediately to Dee when she spoke.
“I’m sorry, Gene, I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with my Dad.”
“You didn’t, you knocked, and I asked you to enter. Anyway, you mentioned you were sorry about last night?”
Dee stood inches from her and she could hear Dee’s uneven breathing, mirroring her own she guessed. Her expression was pensive and that stung, she wanted Dee to always be happy. It mattered more to her than her own happiness. Accepting last night that they were intertwined, whatever made Dee happy made her own world a happier place.
“My aunt and her partner turned up as you know. You met my Aunt Alice at Maxali’s.”
“I did, yes. Do they make a habit of turning up at that time of the evening during the working week?” Gene realized what she said and held her hands up. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
There were a few moments of silence as they gazed at each other before Gene gave a slight smile. At this moment she had no reference point. Her heart was thumping so hard it hurt, and her brain…well that was a mess too.
“Gene?”
The quiet words resonated profoundly as she sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the fact that Dee probably saw it. “Yes?”
Dee closed the gap between them and placed a finger on Gene’s lips. Speech became impossible, not because of the finger but the constriction in her throat. Dee’s touch seared her in such a way that the blood travelling through Gene’s veins was at a boiling point.
“I want it to be your business, Gene.” Then a miracle happened, and Dee dropped her hand and their lips touched.
An explosion of senses coursed through Gene as she met every kiss eagerly. Their mouths opened, and tongues entwined, and she was lost in the mutual exploration. Gene’s hands, which had been dormant, awoke and grasped as much of Dee as possible. Every curve made an indelible imprint on her brain. If this were all she shared with Dee it would be etched in her memory forever.
In the midst of their passion the phone rang. It was a distraction for later, but for now all that mattered was Dee, whom she held in her arms. The ringing continued.
“You need to answer that Gene. We are at work after all.” Dee pulled away and smiled.
Just like that, Dee understood. In the turmoil of Gene’s life, be it bad or in this case good, Dee always said the right things.
Cupping Dee’s face Gene whispered, “You cooked dinner last night, is the invitation still open for tonight maybe?” Holding her breath Gene kissed the side of Dee’s mouth.
“Thank god. I thought I’d be eating the chicken all weekend.”
Gene could feel her body hum at the response. Nothing that was going to happen to her in the future mattered more than that moment. “Then I shall be there.”
The phone was still ringing. “I think they want you to answer that, Gene.”
Reluctantly walking over to retrieve the evil instrument that stopped their closeness, Gene barked into the receiver, “What?”
Dee chuckled, blowing her a kiss, and left the room.
“Oh, sorry, is this a bad time?”
Gene raised her gaze heavenward. Darn right it was. “No.”
“I need to see you with Quinn. She will be here in half an hour, is that okay?”
“Yes. Do I need to worry, Charles?”
There was a chuckle at the end of the line. “Nope, you are going to love this one, it will make your day.”
Gene acknowledged his words and gave some banal response. When the call ended, she grinned.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Charles, I already know whom I love, whom I always have, and nothing can trump that.”