The Essence of Perfection Read online

  On the car ride back, her grandfather nearly burst with enthusiasm at the prospects from the night. “That was a lot of fun. I met some fun ladies.”

  Nicola sucked her teeth. Supporting her grandfather was one thing. Letting him think any of the ladies there were serious contenders for step-grandmother was another. The women were nice enough, but none were in his age range. Plus, she’d overheard some of the other conversations, none of those ladies were half as fun as her grandmother had been.

  “Seriously? Come on, Grandpa, you can do better than the women that were there.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, you and Grandma were together for years. Do you really think you’re going to find something long-lasting and serious at a cheesy event like that? If you really want to meet a nice woman you can spend your time with, then you need to go more traditional. Church, volunteer organizations, mutual contacts.”

  “What makes you think you can’t find something real at speed dating? They’ve had a sixty percent success rate with matches.” He tossed back the sales pitch they’d sat through as if it were a convincing argument.

  “That’s what they tell people to make them feel lucky. I wouldn’t trust them. It’s reeks of fakeness. You deserve better.”

  She felt his glare before he pointed an accusing finger her way. “You know what. That’s your problem.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You think everything is supposed to go a certain way. You don’t just relax and let things happen. Even with this doing things on your list, you’re only doing safe things. Take a pottery class. Come visit me. Ask out a guy who you already knew would say yes. You’re too scared.”

  “I’m not scared. I’m practical.” And none of the things she’d done had been exactly easy or convenient for her. Small steps for some were huge for others. Why didn’t anyone understand that?

  “You’re scared,” he argued. “Have been ever since you were younger. Your grandmother may have let you sit in your perfect orderly box and praise you for it, but I’m not her.”

  “Grandma appreciated me for who I am.”

  “Your grandmother felt sorry for you. She knew you were too timid to spread your wings and fly, so she made you feel special about the things you did love. Everything doesn’t fit into a perfect box you know. Everything doesn’t have to be just right or go the way you planned. Life isn’t one of them designer fragrances you whip up in a bottle. It’s a bunch of messy, scary things that you make the best of. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

  The anger in his voice snatched away the hurt his words had caused. She made you feel special about the things you did love. The safe, boring, expected things Nicola clung to. The things she knew she could do instead of the things she never believed she could do, but also envied Quinn for being able to go for them without hesitation.

  “I didn’t mean any harm, Grandpa,” she said quietly, hoping to end the conversation. Not wanting to reflect on how her criticism of his speed dating was just another projection. Another way for her to take her own insecurities out on someone else.

  “Well, next time think before you speak. I had a good time tonight and you’re ready to take away my joy. Instead of doing that, why don’t you find some joy of your own. It might do a lot better than you trying to do some things on a damn list.”

  They didn’t talk the rest of the way. At his place, she asked if he wanted her to come in, but he said no. Nicola watched him get out of the car and go inside without a backwards glance. Her stomach was in knots. Guilt squeezed her like a vice. She’d ruined her grandfather’s day and had no clue how to make things better.

  Chapter 18

  Nicola headed to her parents’ place the next day. At least once a month, she made the trip to her parents’ house to discuss where the company stood on various projects, including going over the latest with packaging and promotion for upcoming fragrances and timelines for potential new projects. All of this was under the guise of a family Sunday dinner. Really her mom just wanted the family to huddle and discuss business away from the office and the other directors of Queen Couture.

  Nicola used to wish her mom would ask her to come over to hang out and just catch up on life, but that wasn’t the nature of their relationship. Her mom and sister were more alike and hung out together for shopping trips, spa days, and brunch with their various society friends. Nicola was more like her dad, who was happiest in his study or at his office on Morehouse’s campus where he taught business classes.

  Her parents lived in a beautiful penthouse atop the epicenter in Midtown. They’d moved there three years ago when her mom decided they needed something modern and sleek. Their previous home had been a gilded shrine to the beauty industry, complete with knockoff art and plush furniture.

  As a kid, the word gaudy would never have crossed Nicola’s mind when it came to her home. That’s what her mom liked and had raised her and Quinn to believe was beautiful. Nicola had loved the place and thought her home mirrored her mom’s glamorous career. Until her thirteenth birthday party, when she’d worked up the nerve to invite friends from school. Not just her friends from the math team and the gifted and talented program. She’d invited Whitney Sullivan. The new girl at school whose mother was a fashion contributor for multiple magazines and had quickly become the most popular girl in school. Nicola had hoped if she could show Whitney how cool she was then others would agree.

  It had been the best birthday of her life. Everyone oohed and ahhed over the gold crown molding, pink carpeting, and abstract paintings. Her mom had let them all get makeovers and try on clothes. For once, Nicola hadn’t been the nerdy girl, but instead the cool, beautiful girl.

  That lasted until Monday morning. When Whitney announced to everyone that Nicola’s house looked like a unicorn exploded and covered everything in glitter and gold. Whitney, who of course knew what was fashionable because of her mother, knew bad taste when she saw it, and Nicola’s mom had bad taste. The words did their magic. Nicola was no longer the smart kid, which she’d hated, she became the smart kid with a gaudy family.

  She wondered what Whitney Sullivan would say now. Nicola, her mother, and Queen Couture couldn’t be called any of those things. Immaculate, sophisticated, stylish were all words that described the neutral colors, floor to ceiling windows, and modern décor of her parents’ penthouse. Nicola had never told her mom what Whitney and the kids at school said, but since then she had tried to sway her mom’s choices. Which resulted in being called judgmental long before her grandfather had accused her of the same thing the night before.

  Nicola no longer cared what the Whitney Sullivans of the world thought, but she tried to avoid being an easy target of criticism. She’d walked away from her focus on medical research to make her family’s business one of the most highly respected in the industry. While she still wondered what would have happened if she’d gone on into biomedical research, she was proud of what she’d done for Queen Couture.

  Her dad answered the door before she could ring the bell and looked startled to find her on the other side. Her dad was only a few inches taller than her, slim, with a pleasant face and a perpetual what-can-I-say smile on his face. The expression he’d worn whenever his mom demanded something new for the house, Quinn asked for money to buy a new outfit, or Nicola brought home another stellar report card.

  “What are you doing here?” her dad asked. He smiled and stepped back so she could enter.

  “Family dinner, remember? Where are you going?”

  Her dad’s dark leather messenger bag was slung over his shoulder and he wore his favorite camel colored fedora and a light jacket.

  “Oh, that. I’m going to the office. I’ve got some papers to grade and your mom is on another level in there talking about the perfume for that singer.”

  Nicola wrinkled her nose. On another level? She really hoped her mom hadn’t gotten wind that Desiree still wasn’t one hundred percent satisfied with the fragr
ance.

  “That’s why I’m here. To settle her down. Will you be back soon?”

  He was already shaking his head. “It’ll be a while. Me and Doctor Griffin are going to watch the game after I finish up.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. The scent of ink, papers, and pine came with him. “I’ll see you the next time.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Nicola said with a smile. She’d bet money her dad had not forgotten today was family dinner day and that he was making his great escape before she and Mom got lost in a conversation related to perfume making. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Oh, and good work with your grandfather. I know your mom thinks it’s a waste of time, but I’m glad you both are getting out and doing more stuff. Can’t wait for the magic show.”

  Nicola’s smile froze. She wondered if Grandpa Jeremiah would call this Wednesday to talk about the magic show. Nicola was going to give him a few days to calm down. He might need a few days to get over her scoffing at speed dating. She still didn’t like the idea of him dating that way, and if he needed time she’d wait until he was ready to talk to her again. If hiding from or deflecting uncomfortable emotions were an Olympic sport, her family would all have gold medals.

  “I can’t wait. Thanks, Dad.”

  He left and she locked the door behind him before going into the kitchen where she knew her mom would be. The savory smell of Indian food greeted her. Not cooked by Adele, but ordered and delivered from her favorite restaurant. Another reason her dad dipped out, that wasn’t a favorite of his.

  Her mom stopped setting food out on the table and gave Nicola a quick hug. “Right on time. Always punctual. That’s one of the things I love about you, Nicola.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” She didn’t know any other response to that.

  “Your sister is coming by,” Adele said as if she wished that weren’t the case. “I told her she didn’t have to, since your dad is going out, but she said she didn’t mind.”

  “Why would you do that? Even though she doesn’t do as much work for Queen Couture, she’s technically still on the payroll.”

  Nicola hung her purse on the hook outside the kitchen then came back in to wash her hands.

  “I’ll admit, she was useful once,” Adele said as she continued to unpack the food. “Now, she’s more likely to bring scandal than anything.”

  Where in the hell had that come from? She pulled a towel from the drawer and dried her hands. “Quinn isn’t scandalous.”

  “She had a legitimate chance at being a real model, instead she lowered herself to posing half naked online. I call that scandalous.”

  “First of all, have you seen what makes up the average perfume ad these days? Nothing but half naked models. Second, can we not bash Quinn? She’s doing her thing and no matter what we think of it, it’s working for her.”

  Nicola hated to admit it, but her sister’s unconventional career path was putting her in contact with people Nicola never would have expected. As much as she might wish Quinn would work full time for Queen Couture, the fact that her sister was influential couldn’t be ignored.

  “Fine. Fine. Come in here and let me know what you think about the bottle design concepts for Desiree’s fragrance.”

  Adele threw the bag the food had been delivered in into the trash then walked toward the hall. Nicola followed her mom down the hall to her home office. Sunlight filtered in from the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Midtown Atlanta. The various awards and accolades Queen Couture had received surrounded a framed poster of Triumph, their hallmark fragrance. The one that had saved the company. The other wall was covered in various portraits of her mom and dad.

  “You’re already doing bottle designs? We haven’t finalized the juice yet.”

  “I know. You’re running behind, Nicola.” Adele shifted through various papers on her desk and held up one print.

  “I’m not behind.”

  Her mom placed one hand on her hip. “You think I don’t know about the additional samples you sent Desiree.”

  “I wasn’t hiding that from you.” She just didn’t want her mom to worry.

  “I didn’t say you were. The guilty person always cries the loudest,” her mom said with a shake of her head. “I know you’ll get it right. That’s what you always do. I also know celebrities can be finicky. I need you to be ready to make any changes she wants. I know you’re off doing that list thing, but don’t forget your responsibilities.”

  “You told me to go on the show.”

  “I didn’t say agree to do another project that has nothing to do with making perfume,” her mom admonished. “There will be plenty of time for living life after you make Desiree happy. Now, come here and look at these. I spoke with the designers and we’re thinking of something bold and out there for Desiree’s perfume.”

  That did not sound like the classic and timeless fragrance Desiree wanted. Nicola moved closer to her mom to look at the picture. “I don’t know about that. Desiree specifically said she wanted this to be a timeless fragrance. Not something that will smell like a fad or that’ll be forgotten in two years. She wants it to connect with the women who wear it no matter their age.”

  “Which is why we need a bold, unforgettable bottle.”

  “Or, we go with something simple. Something that doesn’t say we’re trying to razzle dazzle them with fancy packaging. The juice inside is what counts.”

  “Oh, you always want to turn down my ideas. You’re always so practical.” Her mom’s shoulders slumped, and she pulled the print closer to her chest.

  “My practicality is what helped make Triumph. I know what I’m talking about with this design.”

  With a heavy, you’re-killing-me sigh, her mom held out the paper. “Just look at these. You might change your mind.”

  Nicola looked at the sketches and bit her lower lip. A microphone, one that mimicked a CD, and a final design that made Nicola tilt her head to the side. That couldn’t be what she thought it was.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Her mom’s eyes sparkled with delight and she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Desiree is about music and sex appeal. I think these would be perfect, but I really like the third one.”

  The third one looked like a man and woman having sex. The woman’s legs were bent and wide. The man pressed against the woman’s body. Their faces entwined in a kiss.

  Nicola shook her head and dropped the picture. “No. We aren’t going with any of them. Who drew these? Ramon? If so, I’ll call him and tell him that this isn’t going to work. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle the design.”

  Adele snatched up the paper. “No, you won’t. You worry about making the juice. I can work with Ramon on the design of the bottle.”

  “If this is where you’re going with the idea then we aren’t going to go with them. This isn’t what Desiree is going for.”

  “You’re doing it again. My poor mom is going to embarrass me with her over the top ideas. Let’s downplay her and go with my boring idea instead.”

  “If you care to admit it, my boring,” she did air quotes with the word, “ideas have worked out.”

  “You’re embarrassed by my ideas.”

  “I’m not. I just don’t think this is the right direction.” Desiree may be sex appeal and excitement, but she was also not going to go for a bottle that mimicked sex.

  Quinn came into the room. “What are you two arguing about now?”

  Her mom’s eyes lit up. “Aha, if anyone will get it then Quinn will. Come over here and look at these bottle designs for Desiree’s perfume and tell me what you think.”

  Quinn came over and looked at the pictures.

  “I told Mom—”

  Adele snapped at Nicola. “Hush, don’t interrupt. Let Quinn make her own option.”

  Quinn tilted her head to the left then the right. “I don’t know if this will work.”

  Adele’s excitement deflated. “What? I thought you’d love it. You’re all about being
sexy.”

  “I am,” Quinn agreed. “But this isn’t what I remember Desiree saying she wanted. She didn’t want a bold in your face fragrance, she wanted something more... old school.”

  Adele threw up her hands. “Nicola got to you. That’s what this is.”

  “No she didn’t, Mom. Don’t be dramatic.” Quinn grinned. “If you want, I can give you a few sketches, or work with the artist on the design. That way you don’t have to.”

  Adele snorted. “Do you really think I’m going to put you in charge of a project this big? No thank you. Nicola, you can talk to Ramon and have him work up some other ideas.”

  Quinn’s mouth tightened. “But Nicola is busy making the perfume. Why not let me help? I’d like to help.”

  Adele patted Quinn’s cheek. “You just need to focus on giving me my first grandchild. Not worry your pretty head about this.”

  Adele’s cell phone rang in the kitchen. “That’s probably Ramon now. I told him I was showing you his sketches, Nicola. He was curious about what you had to say.” She hurried out of the room to answer.

  Nicola looked at her sister. “I really don’t mind working with him on the design.”

  “Aren’t you tired of having to fix everything for her?” Quinn sounded irritated. “I work in the marketing department. I’m supposed to coordinate this stuff while you focus on making the perfumes.”

  “Well, it’s not as if you’ve been doing a lot in the marketing section lately,” Nicola shot back. “Besides, it helps when I’m involved in the process from start to finish.”

  Quinn flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Because you’re a control freak.”

  The words hit too close to the sore spot Nicola had from her fight with their grandfather and Adele’s judgmental comment. “No. I just like to see a project through. Mom knows that. Plus, you’re busy.”