The Essence of Perfection Page 3

  She was meeting with Desiree the following week to discuss specifics of the last blend Nicola had sent over. The meeting was scheduled after the singer performed for a Scandinavian prince, who was apparently in love with her. Or, at least, that’s what he’d claimed when he’d tagged her on social media requesting she perform at his thirtieth birthday celebration.

  Nicola pulled out her cell phone and navigated to the Instagram page for The Tea, an account focused on celebrity gossip and trending topics in social media. At the top of the page was a picture of Desiree and the prince. According to Desiree’s assistant, she’d gone days ahead of the celebration to get to know him. The fire in the prince’s eyes as he looked at Desiree while they sat in a café was apparent even in the grainy photograph.

  If only she could inspire that kind of passion in a prince. Scratch that. When was the last time she’d inspired any type of passion in any man? The real question was, when was the last time a man inspired passion in her? She thought of Damien Hawkins’s arms, forced herself not to go to his page and get lost down that thirst trap, and slid her cell phone across the desk to combat her weak willpower.

  She could never inspire that kind of passion in a man. Not really. Finding a man to have sex with wasn’t that hard. Finding a man who was passionate about her was an entirely different thing. Desiree’s life was filled with the kind of drive and hunger poets wrote about. A real life. An impassioned life.

  She looked around her lab/office. She loved her job. Loved being the person who helped create the things that made a person feel refreshed, beautiful, comfortable, or happy. Her work touched people every day, even though they may not know she had anything to do with it. But, fun it was not. She thought of Shonda’s text last night after she’d gone home with the guy at the bar. The guy Nicola had thought was handsome but convinced herself she didn’t have time to get to know.

  Nicola rebooted her computer and opened the file sharing program she used. She clicked on the file she loved and hated. Things I Should Have Done.

  She never should have told her sister about this file. Her attempt to prove she wasn’t a complete dud was further proven by her explanation. Quinn had told her she would die with a list of regrets a mile long, and Nicola’s brilliant comeback had been “No, I won’t, because I’m keeping a list of all my regrets and I’m going to go back and do all of them one day.”

  She’d regretted the words as soon as they’d come out of her mouth. Which is why she’d moved the list from her hard drive and strictly kept it in the cloud. Quinn was sure to seek it out and had asked to see it on numerous occasions. Something that would never happen. No one was seeing this list except for Nicola.

  I, Nicola King, do solemnly swear to return to this list and complete every item on it. I will not do what my sister predicts and die with a list of regrets. I will live my life to the fullest.

  The opening lines on a list that was now three pages long. Nicola let out a heavy sigh and hit control and end to navigate to the end of her list.

  • Don’t be afraid to talk to a handsome man at the bar.

  Unoriginal, yes. Probably higher up on the list in another variation, most definitely. She scanned the other items on the list:

  • Tell a man you love him.

  • Go out clubbing and actually enjoy yourself.

  • Spend more time with family doing non-work-related stuff.

  • Have one-night stand with sexy guy when the chance arises.

  • Say yes next time a billionaire asks you to dinner.

  • Pet a tiger.

  • Ask out the next guy you have a major crush on.

  That last one was added right after college graduation. When she’d known she was completely in love with Bobby Bradford, a guy from her biochemistry class. She’d spent four years imagining half a dozen ways to have her way with Bobby, and her sister swore Bobby had hearts in his eyes when he looked at her, but Nicola hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask him out. Relied on the we’re friends excuse never to ask him out.

  On graduation day, when she still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him on a real date, and he’d given her a hug and brief kiss on the cheek before running off to join his family, she’d realized she’d possibly let the man she would marry, have three kids and a dog with, slip through her fingers. She’d tried to be okay with the if you really are meant for something it’ll come back to you, but thanks to the miracle that was Facebook, she’d discovered he’d met and married his soulmate a year after graduation.

  She had to do better. She scanned the list. All the things she’d found a reason to back out of. Last night she’d said she was living her life like it was golden, but was she really? This was a pretty long damn list.

  Her desk phone rang. A New York number, she could tell by the area code. Having clients all over the world who called from various numbers meant she didn’t hesitate to answer or screen calls from unknown numbers.

  She picked up the phone. “Hello, Nicola King speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Nicola, hi, this is Stacie Brown one of the producers for Your Morning Wake-Up Call. Do you have a few minutes to talk about appearing on our show?”

  Nicola sat up straight in her chair. Your Morning Wake-Up Call was a popular morning show. One of the most popular morning shows in the country. The co-hosts, one a long-time charming television host and the other a former soap opera star with dozens of Daytime Emmys under her belt, were recently named the most loved daytime duo on TV. What in the world did they want with her?

  “Yes, of course,” Nicola answered quickly. In this business, sounding unsure or thrown off balance could be the difference between getting or losing a job. She might not know why they were calling. Her mind went back to the picture of Desiree and her prince on her cell phone. Her hand tightened on the phone. Was this about working with Desiree?

  “Great!” Stacie said in a cheerful tone of voice. “Next month we’re starting a new segment on inspirational people behind things we all love. After Desiree’s camp announced your company was working with her to make the perfume she plans to launch next year, we looked you up. Your resume is amazing. You’re responsible for so many of the soaps, perfumes, and even some detergents used all over the country. You are definitely an inspiration, and someone we think our viewers would love to know more about. Would you be interested in coming to talk to us?”

  Nicola was nodding before Stacie finished speaking. She loved Your Morning Wake-Up Call. Sometimes she even recorded shows with guests she really wanted to see so she could watch on the weekend when she caught up on television.

  The world of perfume making used to be a carefully guarded secret. Only the names on the bottles were given credit for the juice within. In the past decade, perfumers were being more vocal about their art. Granted, Nicola had never done media interviews, and she didn’t know how to make the chemistry of mixing fragrances exciting for television, but if they thought she was interesting enough to come on the show then they must have a way to make it sound good.

  “I’m definitely interested,” Nicola answered. She tried not to let her excitement bleed too much into her voice. “What would I need to do?”

  “Not much on your end. We’ll send over a list of topics for you to review, along with a few questions to answer. Your answers will help us guide the conversation during your interview and give you an idea of how the discussion will flow. If there’s something you really want us to hit on, then point it out in your response.”

  “When would you like to do the interview?”

  “Would you be available for taping in New York the second week of May?”

  Nicola pulled up her calendar. That would be two weeks after her meeting with Desiree. Which was great because she’d have more time to come up with an idea of what to mention about the process. She would also find out if Desiree wanted her to bring up anything specific during the interview. For a second she worried Desiree might disapprove, then dismissed the concern, considering how
much Desiree catered to the media. She’d run this by the singer’s assistant as soon as she got off the phone just to be sure. She hoped Desiree didn’t have a problem with this. If she did, Nicola could possibly direct the interview away from the specifics of Desiree’s perfume and more on the process of how she approached any project.

  “Yes, I should be able to be in New York at that time. I will only need to be there for a day, right?” She wasn’t trying to spend too much time out of town when she still had other projects to work on.

  “That’s right. Give me your email address and I’ll shoot over the details.”

  “Sounds great.” She rattled off her email address. Stacie repeated it back to her and then they ended the call.

  Nicola jumped up and did a quick two-step behind her desk. Who was living her best life? This girl right here!

  Forget Shonda and Quinn and their get out of your comfort zone advice. Her approach to things was going perfectly.

  Her cell phone rang again. Still grinning and dancing, Nicola picked up the phone. “Hey Mom,” she practically sang into the receiver.

  “Don’t you sound happy? What’s going on?” Adele’s husky voice brimmed with curiosity.

  “Nothing, but I just got a call from Your Morning Wake-Up Call. They want to interview me in three weeks for their show.”

  “That’s great, Nicola!” Her mom said. “You can definitely mention that during your quick speech at the Foundation’s luncheon today.”

  Nicola’s hips froze mid shimmy. She checked her watch and silently cursed. She’d completely forgotten about the fundraiser. Leave it to her mom to get back from Paris and jump right back into things the next day.

  “I’m on my way. I got caught up with work.” Nicola shut down her computer and scribbled Call Desiree on a sticky note she placed on her monitor.

  “I know you did. You always do,” her mom said, sounding both exasperated and accepting. “I’d fuss at you about getting out of that lab and getting a social life, but you’re too successful for me to stand in your way.”

  Nicola left the desk and hurried to her lab table. “I’m leaving right now, Mom.” She sealed the vials she’d been working with before going to check on Tia’s progress.

  “You’re just leaving! Nicola, come on. You should be almost here.” Adele’s disappointment sped up Nicola’s steps.

  “I know. I know. I just got off the phone with the producer.” Nicola hurried to put each of the vials in their designated spots. “Quinn is coming, right? Get her to do the speech.”

  “Hmm . . . Well... I’ll just try to delay things until you get here.” Not quite code for ain’t-no-way-in-hell.

  “Mom, Quinn is perfectly capable of doing the speech. It’s just a simple your work here is important, and we’re happy to donate to your cause.”

  “Quinn barely does any work for the company,” her mom rationalized. “She’s too busy being an internet model.” Nicola didn’t have to see her mom to picture her nose wrinkling up as she said the words.

  “We’re a family-owned company and Quinn still markets some of our products.”

  “And you’re the star of our show. Now hurry up and get here. Having Quinn talk . . . well, I’ll find a way to stall.”

  Her mom ended the call. Nicola let out a loud sigh as she rushed out the door. She had no one to blame but herself. She’d done what had to be done to be the star of the family. Now she couldn’t get frustrated when her pretenses resulted in what she’d wanted. Nicola thought of the one item she didn’t dare write on her list. The one regret she refused to let anyone discover because there was no way to change it, fix it, or make it better. No, she couldn’t afford to be frustrated. She stood to lose a lot more if every one of her regrets was brought to light.

  Chapter 4

  Nicola rushed through the doors of the downtown Marriott hotel and scanned the digital sign listing all of the various events happening in the hotel that day. The Midtown Foundation for the Arts was one of the many organizations her mom served on the board of. If she remembered correctly, today’s luncheon was to raise funds for arts programs in schools. Nicola hadn’t prepared a speech but decided to go with her basic talk about the importance of school programs related to the arts and sciences and how she used her background in chemistry in an artistic field.

  She found the location of the room for the luncheon. The Foundation’s event was in one of the salons farthest away from the entrance to the hotel. Nicola speed walked through the maze to find her way there. When she rounded the corner she abruptly came to a halt.

  A man stood just outside the door to the salon she needed to enter. He stared at his phone with a frown on his face. Nicola blinked her eyes several times just to be sure her eyesight wasn’t deceiving her.

  No way in hell was that who she thought it was. Her fantasies were spilling over into reality and making her see things that weren’t really there. He must have felt her gaze because he looked up and gave her a hesitant, I know you’re staring at me smile. She sucked in a breath.

  Oh god! It was him. Damien Hawkins.

  He was dressed casually. Way too casually to be attending the society luncheon. Long dreadlocks, the sides pulled back, fell to the middle of his back. A white linen shirt fit loosely on his wide shoulders. The top buttons were open enough to reveal several silver chains resting against a golden-brown chest. From all the videos she’d watched of him, she knew one chain had a cross on it, another a thick ring, and the third an imprinted dog tag. The shirt was paired with jeans that were just fitted enough to enhance strong thighs and a firm behind.

  His eyes were light. A cross between honey and whiskey. Right now, they were focused on her with a mixture of curiosity and humor. He quirked one of his thick brows.

  “Do you need to get in here?” he pointed to the door.

  Nicola let out a breath. She needed to breathe. Not gawk at him as if he were some fairy who appeared out of nowhere to grant her secret wish.

  “Um . . . yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just I’m late and didn’t expect anyone to be standing outside of the door.”

  A ridiculously lame excuse if she’d ever heard one.

  His lips lifted in a half smile. “I’m on my way back in. The keynote speaker didn’t bother to show up and someone else is filling in. I stepped out to check my emails.”

  Heat spread up Nicola’s cheeks. She raised a finger. “That keynote speaker would be me. I got caught up at work.”

  “Aha, well then you better get in there.” He opened the door and motioned for her to go in.

  Feeling foolish, and unexpectedly hot, Nicola nodded. She inhaled as she passed him. He smelled of clay, something citrusy like bergamot, and cedar wood. Smells that reminded her of being outdoors, the Earth, bright sunshine, and lazy afternoons. She liked it.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled as she entered.

  “Even though I don’t really do well interacting with kids I do think it’s important to give them hobbies. Which is why your work is important. Keep them off the streets and out of our hair, you know.” Quinn’s voice poured out of the speakers into the room.

  Nicola groaned and took her attention off Damien and redirected it to her sister behind the podium. Around the room wide eyes and shocked expressions accompanied the hush of whispers that followed Quinn’s comment. A horrified expression covered their mom’s face at the front of the room.

  As if sensing the answer to her prayers in the back of the room, her mom’s gaze swung to the door. Nicola could practically hear the Thank God in her mom’s head. The horror in her face switched to a mixture of relief and I’m going to kill you for being late. Adele rushed up on the stage and pulled the microphone away from Quinn.

  “Thank you, Quinn, for giving us that perfect segue,” her mom said as she inelegantly ushered Quinn to the side. “I’d like to turn the microphone over to our keynote speaker for the afternoon. My oldest daughter, the lead perfumer of Queen Couture, the person responsible for
making many of the scents we know and love, and soon to be a guest on the popular daytime television show Your Morning Wake-Up Call, Nicola King.”

  Her mom pointed toward the door. A hundred or more pairs of eyes swung toward Nicola. They clapped in response to her mother’s enthusiastic applause. Nicola’s face burned hotter than the sun. Sweat slickened her palms, and her stomach clenched. Public speaking never got easier.

  A hand gently touched her arm. Damien’s touch. Electric sparks skipped across her skin. “You’re on,” he said in a low voice.

  Nicola trembled. Not from the momentary stage fright. She pulled away from him quickly, ignored the impulse to turn and run out the door, and made her way to the front of the room. Forcing her lips upward into her practiced, happy-to-be-here smile, Nicola nodded and waved as she strode with feigned confidence to take the mic.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. One foot in front of the other. Look toward the back of the room. Not at anyone in particular. Don’t make eye contact with Damien. Don’t think about your secret crush being in the room. And, no matter what you do, slow down!

  The familiar mantra worked, and by the time she was in front of the podium her heart beat as if she were doing a brisk walk instead of a mad dash for her life. Quinn looked just as relieved as their mom to get out of the spotlight and turn over the microphone to Nicola.

  Her mom hugged her. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispered in Nicola’s ear.

  “I made it just in time,” Nicola whispered back. They separated, and Nicola took the microphone.

  “Thank you, Quinn, for filling in for me. I apologize for being late, but I’d like to piggyback on Quinn’s earlier sentiment. How the important work you do through your programs helps keep kids busy with something beautiful and creative. When I was a young girl, sometimes the only place I could express myself was in the lab. I excelled in a chemistry lab. I learned how to work as part of a team, how to follow instructions, and how one slight variation in a formula could change the entire process. For the good and for the bad. You can ask my mom later about the time I burned my eyebrows off.” A low murmur of laughter went through the room. Nicola’s shoulders relaxed. “The arts and sciences can give kids access to a place of wonder. A place where they can always ask why, how, and what if. That is one of the reasons why we’ve always supported this foundation. For those who don’t know me, I’m Nicola King, and because of programs like the one you support today, I’ve gained access to a world that I never knew existed. Let me tell you how I got started.”