The Essence of Perfection Page 15

  “Not that busy.” Quinn walked over and met Nicola’s eye. “Let me do the bottle design.”

  There was a quiet plea in her sister’s words. Nicola wanted to say yes. She owed Quinn, after all the stuff her sister had done for her. Knowingly and unknowingly.

  The Desiree project was just too important. She couldn’t turn something this big over to her sister. Quinn would want to help out today, but tomorrow she’d be on to the next thing. The next R&B star sliding into her DM’s and another trip to L.A., Vegas, or Hawaii. Then the bottle idea would be forgotten, and Nicola would be stuck pulling that together and working on the perfume anyway.

  She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

  Quinn sucked her teeth. “Typical.”

  “You can help with another project. Look, we’re doing the summer scent for the Forever Young line. It’ll need a new look. You can help with that.”

  Forever Young was a clothing store that catered to women in their early twenties. The mass-produced clothing was cute and sexy, but cheaply made. It was one of their less prestigious but lucrative clients. If the scent failed or the bottle was a mess it wouldn’t be too much of a loss. The company tended to try things that were considered trendy and then discarded them with the next season. Quinn couldn’t mess that up.

  “Are you kidding me?” Quinn’s voice was like a pane of frozen glass. “Do you think you can tide me over with your low budget client?”

  “Forever Young isn’t a low budget client. They have stores across the country, a major following, and are one of our biggest distributors.”

  One of Nicola’s juice blends, a basic fragrance with orange blossom, rose, and a hint of musk, was in such demand that Forever Young made it their signature scent instead of rotating it out it after a season. Forever Young’s perfume line was a huge part of their current profit.

  “You also give the seasonal projects to the new perfumers who intern in your lab,” Quinn said, her back ramrod straight and her eyes fierce. “You let them test the waters there knowing if they mess up it won’t be too much of a problem. I’ve heard you say this numerous times over the years. I know you’re trying to make things better, while just giving me a get over it project.”

  “Quinn—”

  Quinn held up a hand. “Save it, Nicola. I know you love me and all, but I also know that no matter how much you complain, you love being the darling star of Queen Couture. I get it. You created the best-selling perfume. You’re the expert. Not me. I expect that from Mom, but I’d hoped you would at least acknowledge that back then, Mom asked us both for help. I could have just as easily created Triumph and you know it.”

  The words stabbed right into Nicola’s defenses and twisted through her like a knife. The turning point in their roles in the family. Their mom had asked them both, but she’d believed Quinn would be the one to make something useful. They’d created separate blends, but often talked to each other about how to tweak their formulas. Then one night, for reasons Nicola didn’t know, Quinn had shown up at the lab drunk and accidently ruined her sample. That was also the night Nicola realized what she needed to do to make Triumph. Nicola had thrived while Quinn floundered.

  If only that was the real version of the story.

  “I do know that,” Nicola said, all of the guilt and frustration of that night so long ago heavy in her voice. She knew better than anyone that Quinn was smart enough to handle this project. “Look, if you want—”

  “Stop. Don’t say anything we’ll both know will just be another way to patronize me. You can continue to be the savior of the family. I know the role I’m supposed to play. Don’t lose any sleep over me. I’ll be over it in the morning.”

  With that, Quinn walked out. Nicola was about to follow when her mom called. “Ramon wants to talk to you, Nicola.”

  There was what she should do and what needed to be done to keep things on track. She would talk to Quinn later. For now, she had to keep things going.

  “Coming, Mom.”

  Chapter 19

  The conversation with Quinn hung over Nicola like a thick cloud the next day. She couldn’t focus and went back and forth with herself. Quinn was her sister. She knew Quinn was smart, and more capable than most people realized. If anyone knew how smart and intuitive Quinn was, it was Nicola. The only reason Quinn didn’t know how much she influenced the company was due to a fuzzy, next day memory, provided by a hangover.

  Nicola couldn’t think about that now without regret fogging her brain. She needed to get lost in something. Making Desiree’s perfume was not going to help clear her mind. Desiree’s agent had emailed that Nicola was “on the right track” with the latest samples. Back to the drawing board. The only problem was that Nicola didn’t know what other colors to draw with.

  She ruled out staying in the lab, being mad she couldn’t think of anything, or going home and drinking wine with the hope alcohol would inspire something. She could look at her list of things to do when she finally had time for a life, but that would only create a sick knot in her stomach as she relived the embarrassment of having her list read on television. So, she opted for something else. Free creative time at the pottery studio.

  Fran mentioned the free time after the first class. Sunday, Monday, and Friday, for a few hours when Damien wasn’t working, students could come in and work on their pottery. She needed a creative outlet. Since her ability to make the perfect perfume was stunted at the moment, she could at least put her hands in clay and hope something came of it.

  She arrived at the studio, grabbed an apron, and settled in at one of the corner tables. There were only two other students from the class taking advantage of free studio time. A sister pair who’d been very excited about making their own bowls and vases for family members. She wasn’t surprised they took advantage of free studio.

  Nicola spoke to them briefly, but mostly she wanted to do something with her hands. She decided to practice the braided bowl technique Fran had shown them in the last class. Something that was relatively simple but still required focus. Eventually her mind cleared as she rolled the clay in to long thin strips, braided the strips together, then layered the braids on top of each other to make a bowl. Once that was done, she felt creative, and used a scalpel and cut leaf shapes to go around the edge.

  She sensed Damien as soon as he entered the studio and wasn’t surprised when he came to watch her work. She’d had a feeling he would come talk to her. She liked what he smelled like. That familiar mix of clay and mint with his own cedar undertones. She’d be able to recognize him in a room of a thousand people.

  He didn’t speak when she looked up at him. He studied her bowl. Nicola had been so into making it, she’d been meticulous with her work. She’d hoped this bowl would be perfect. The best thing she ever made. Now that he stood over her. The expert in pottery. Her bowl seemed disproportionate.

  “I know. I should try to keep the braids better aligned.”

  Damien shook his head. “Actually, I was watching your hands while you worked. I think you’ll be good on the wheel.”

  A flutter in her chest. She should not be so flattered by an off-hand compliment, but she hadn’t been praised much lately and decided to enjoy the feeling. “You were?”

  “Yes. Want to try?”

  “Of course I would.” They weren’t going to start on the wheel until next week, but Nicola wouldn’t turn down a chance to start early.

  He nodded. “Good. Let’s do it.”

  Visions of the movie Ghost crept into her mind as she followed him to the wheel. Her hands sliding across the slick surface of the clay. Damien sitting behind her. His strong arms wrapped around her as his fingers entwined with hers to show her the way.

  Nicola shook her head. She was in her feelings after the arguments with her grandfather and sister. Now was not the time to have romantic fantasies about a guy who was clearly not into her.

  Damien pointed to one of the potter wheels and told her to sit. He dropped a lump of clay on top
and the bucket of water next to her. He did the same at the wheel next to her then sat there.

  “Now follow my instructions.”

  Nicola tried not to let her disappointment show. So much for a sexy Ghost recreation. Damien’s demeanor screamed instructor, not romance. She just had to get this damn crush on him to go away.

  Damien talked her through the steps of centering the clay on the wheel. She focused on getting her hands set up correctly so she wouldn’t push the clay off the wheel. Damien’s voice provided low and steady instruction as she worked on creating a bowl. Bringing her back to center whenever she got frustrated or made a mistake that threw her work off balance. At the end of his lesson she had a small, somewhat symmetrical dish with an exaggerated rim that she thought was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever created.

  “I did it!” she said admiring her work on the shelf with other items waiting to go into the kiln for setting.

  “You did. That’s a good start. You’ll be able to give your classmates help when the rest of them start on the wheel tomorrow.”

  Damien smiled at her as he wiped excess clay off his hands with a towel. She tried not to notice how great his arms looked in his clay splattered grey t-shirt.

  “I think I’ll avoid giving instruction. I tend to make people mad when I give suggestions.”

  “Does your instruction come with a dose of condescension?”

  She followed him to the sink where he turned on the water and pumped soap into his hands. “Are you saying I’m condescending?”

  “I’m asking if you give advice because you want to help or if you give advice because you think you know better. There is a difference.”

  She pumped soap into her own hand and washed hers after he pulled his hands from the water.

  “I’m trying to help. I’m always trying to help.” Her tone was sharp.

  “I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

  Hard not to. Her sore spot was pretty big right now. “Do you always make broad assumptions about people’s lives?”

  Water hit the side of her face. She gasped then turned to him. His lips trembled with a suppressed smile. His dripping wet hand lifted to fling water at her.

  “Did you just flick me with water like we were kids?” She tried to sound affronted, but laughter crept into her voice.

  “I did,” he grinned as if he dared her to challenge him. His grin did strange things to her mid-section.

  “Why?”

  “Because I could tell you were about to get back in whatever funk brought you in here today, and I didn’t want that to happen.”

  She snatched the towel out of his hand to dry hers. “So, you act like a kid?”

  “Did it work?”

  She glared then flicked her fingers at him, splashing his face with several drops of water. “What do you think?”

  “I think.” he reached over and ran his thumb across her cheek, “that even when you have clay on your face and are throwing water at me, you’re still cute.”

  Nicola forgot to breathe. The edge of his nail gently scraped off the dried clay. She felt the tickle of his touch in every nerve in her body. Her heart constricted. Heat spread through her face. He’d moved closer. Not so close that she was crowded, but close enough to make her want to wrap an arm around his waist and curl into his chest.

  She turned her head and took a step back. “Don’t. I can get it off.” She used her damp hand to wipe at the spot he touched. The spot that still tingled.

  Damien slid back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Look, Damien, I’m just... the thing is I’m not good with reading signals, so I don’t want to mix up anything with you. I know you’re not interested, and I’m trying not to read too much into our relationship. I mean friendship.”

  There she’d said it. Gotten her big old embarrassing crush out in the open. She was going to be brave and daring and give him the I like you but it’s okay if you don’t like me we can still be cool speech.

  She dared a glance at him. His eyes were wide. Lips slightly parted. Oh, crap, she’d made it worse. Embarrassment burned her stomach like a hot poker.

  She turned to run away. Damien’s hand wrapped around her elbow. He pulled her back until her chest touched his. “Who said I’m not interested?” his voice dipped low.

  She couldn’t believe it. Was he interested?

  “You said you didn’t do . . . that you were only being nice.”

  His hand rested on her hip. His head dipped lower. “That was me trying to put up a front. Believe me, Nicola, I’m very interested.”

  Her heart beat so hard she was surprised it hadn’t burst. Her breath stuttered out. “Oh well, in that case . . .”

  Her lips parted just as his head lowered, and his lips pressed into hers. The kiss was hesitant. Questioning if he should continue. For once, Nicola didn’t worry about being too aggressive. She lifted her chin and slid her tongue against his full bottom lip. Damien didn’t need any more coaxing. He pulled her tighter against him. Both of his arms wrapped around her until she was engulfed by his arms, his kiss, his scent.

  Her hands were still damp. She wanted to dig her hands through his hair, or under his shirt. Yeah, under his shirt would be really good. But she didn’t want to break up this fantastic moment with cold wet hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck but held her hands away from him.

  Damien obviously had no qualms about the dampness of his hands because his roamed up and down her back. Wetting her thin shirt so the heat of his palms burned straight through her. So hot, she wanted to take off all her clothes.

  Make love in a public place.

  One of the things she wanted to do. One of the things she’d had the chance to do once in college before her practical mind convinced her smart girls did not have sex on the quad. She could make up for that now. Right now, with Damien.

  Then what?

  The question made her pull back quickly. Her breathing hard and ragged. He didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t believe in love anymore. She wanted him. Wanted to do this, but she had to think about it. Had to get her bearings straight. Was she really ready for a quick love affair? Would she be able to stop herself from falling in love with Damien?

  Chick yeah! Both Quinn and Shonda’s voices screamed in her head.

  “I should go?” The words came out like a question. Even though her brain tried to say she needed to slow down before she was headfirst in a situation she couldn’t handle, her body was like go for it right now!

  Damien’s hands slowly slid from her back to her hips. They rested there lightly. Just enough pressure to pull her back if she leaned in or let her go if she pulled away.

  “Can I see you again?” Damien asked.

  “You’ll see me tomorrow. I have class.”

  He grinned and his dark eyes sparkled. He was so friggin’ cute. Her heart felt tight in her chest. “Can I see you again outside of class?”

  Hell yes, but she couldn’t be too eager. She had to be sure about this. “Maybe. Sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow.”

  He nodded and let his hands drop from her hips. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

  “Looking forward to it.”

  She grinned as she left the studio. Her world was rocked off its axis, but life outside of the little corner where Damien had kissed her went on as normal. The sisters had left earlier. Free studio time was over, so Fran had cut out too, but outside of the studio cars drove, the sun was setting, and the birds chirped. Everything was so normal and completely changed at the same time. Good. She wanted to keep this memory hers for a little longer. Savor the moment. Her own secret thrill.

  Chapter 20

  Damien didn’t come through to observe the pottery class the way he typically did. Nicola tried not to show her disappointment as she and Mr. Goldberg chatted about his grand-kids while they sat next to each other making bowls on the pottery wheel. Nicola kept he
r private lesson with Damien the day before to herself.

  They’d only kissed. It wasn’t that big a deal. They’d made no promises. None of that lessened how much she wanted to see him.

  She’d halfway convinced herself not seeing Damien was a good idea when he strolled in at the end of the class while everyone cleaned up. He didn’t come directly to her. Instead, walking around and making observations on everyone’s work. He approached Nicola and Mr. Goldberg last then asked innocuous questions about their bowls.

  “Hey, Nicola, can you stick around for a few minutes? I want to run something by you,” Damien asked after giving them suggestions on ways to ensure a more even distribution of the clay in their work.

  “Sure, let me put up my stuff.”

  “I’ll be in my office.”

  She nodded and worked with everyone else to clean their area and put away their creations. Outwardly, she was cool and calm as the class chatted and complimented each other on their work. Inwardly, Nicola’s heart beat erratically and her skin tingled with expectation.

  Her mind considered various topics he might want to discuss. The kiss yesterday. Whether it should happen again. What if he wanted to apologize and say it was a mistake? What if he wanted to kiss her again?

  By the time she waved goodbye to the rest of the class and knocked on Damien’s door her palms were sweaty and her nerves on edge. No matter what he said she would be cool. She wouldn’t get her expectations up.

  “Come in,” Damien called.

  She entered and was surprised to discover his office was larger than she expected. He had room for a sturdy wooden desk, a display case filled with various pottery pieces and pictures she assumed were of him with friends and family, and a blue loveseat next to a table with a one-cup coffee maker with a rack of coffee pods next to it.

  Damien got up from behind his desk and walked over to one of the lounge chairs. “Have a seat. Thank you for sticking back.”