Sunday night rolled around quickly. Too quickly. Who wouldn’t want to go out to a fancy Parisian restaurant with one of the hottest men on the planet? Me! It complicated things and the contestants would be talking out of turn about it in two minutes flat. But maybe it meant I was safe from elimination. Why would he want to get to know me if I was leaving the next day? Or maybe the judges were still ruminating and the decision wasn’t made yet, in which case this could be my last night in Paris.
Clock checking, I still had fifty-five minutes to wait.
OK, yes, I’d taken a bit more care with my make-up. And my clothing, choosing a tight ruby red dress that Lila had insisted I buy from an antique market on the bank of the Seine, and perilously high black heels. My feet would be screaming if we did any real walking but they made me feel like a million bucks. The women here dressed so elegantly, and with Lila’s assurances I was on my way to a slightly more stylish version of the elegant French woman. We’d found the heels in a little emporium in the upper Marais, half price and my size, so what was a girl to do?
I’d straightened my wavy hair, then I’d tied it up, then pulled it down, and then gave up. I spent a few minutes pouting in the mirror before catching myself and wiping off lipstick of my teeth. Honestly, what was I doing? The waiting sent me batty.
And then finally a knock at the door. I opened it and his fragrance hit me first, a blend of juniper berry, orange and a base note of pepperwood. It conjured quiet nights, a G&T, a cabin in the woods and the type of man who’d stoke the fire, a book of French poetry left open on the armrest. Or so I imagined…
We locked eyes, and for a moment the world stopped turning.
He could be anyone, I hardly knew the guy, so why did my heart beat triple time? It was absurd. And I took pains to hide it, fluttering my hands and fidgeting. You could fall in love with someone on scent alone and what that triggered for you! Every perfumer hoped to make a scent like that, but I hadn’t expected to fall into an olfactory trap. It was a blend of aromas, that was all! Ooh la la, Paris was making me crazy!
‘Hello there!’ To recover after the long silence, I greeted him chirpily as if this was any night (which it was) and he was an old friend. A platonic old friend. Was it being in Paris watching lovers stroll hand-in-hand along the boulevards, or girls on tiptoe by the Eiffel Tower kissing their flush-faced beaus? Couples walked, arms entwined, by the river Seine. Love was everywhere here, the romance capital of the world perhaps that made even the closed-hearted among us dream.
‘Bonsoir.’
‘Come right in, I’ll get my handbag.’
I went to step around him to grab my bag from the hook as he stepped forward to give me the double whammy cheek kiss and we bumped heads with a resounding crack. ‘Ow,’ I said, grabbing my forehead.
‘Désolé, Del. Let me see.’ He cupped my face, and surveyed the damage. My eyes watered from the pain, would there ever be a moment fiasco free with the man?
‘I’m OK,’ I managed, his proximity all I could think of. I made the mistake of gazing into his eyes, the deep oceanic green of them, and stopped. He was so unlike the men of my small town, so wholly different to any guy I’d ever had a flutter for. He enthralled me by scent alone and it painted a picture of what could be. Crazy. A possible concussion speaking. At this rate I’d have to buy a helmet to wear with all the pain I managed to inflict on myself.
As he searched my face for damage he moved closer, his lips barely an inch from mine which had no bearing on anything. They were just close, that’s all. Closer than they’d been previously. But if you were into lips, then these would have been right up your alley. They were pretty luscious for a guy, and had that quirk to them, even when he was serious like he was now, that made a person feel like he’d be quick to smile. Quick to laugh. Would the pine-y juniper notes of gin linger on the softness of them? I wondered if I’d be able to taste the botanical liquor on his tongue. A moment later I was horrified to find my index finger suddenly millimetres away from his bottom lip as if I was going to…what? Hook him in for a kiss?
I snatched my hand back, my eyes wide. He hadn’t had a G&T, that was all a fantasy created by his scent, so I wouldn’t be able to taste it anyway. It was his fragrance taking me on an olfactory journey of discovery that was FICTIONAL. I, of all people, should have known how that worked!
He was still staring intently at me, and my legs almost gave way. I wasn’t cut out for this level of scrutiny.
‘I…’
‘Del…’ Just then the door burst open and in walked Clementine, babbling away at top volume.
We jumped away from each other like we’d been zapped.
‘Ooh la la I forgot my—’ She stopped and a hand flew to her mouth before she recovered, and smirked. ‘So that is ’ow it is.’ Crossing her arms, she waited for an explanation, and I grappled with what to say. It was innocent, dammit!
Sebastien put a hand to the small of my back, ‘Bonsoir, Clementine,’ he said to her without a hint of embarrassment or the need to further explain. ‘We’re going to dinner. Enjoy your evening.’
‘Dinner, together? Fantastique.’ Her eyes glittered and the fine hair on my arms stood on end.
‘More a mentoring session,’ Sebastien said smoothly.
My heart sank. What a fool! My cheeks flamed, it was never a date, it was always about perfumery… but I knew that didn’t I?