The Secret Ways of Perfume Read Online Free Page A

careful.
    â€œLet’s get out of here, Monie, come on,” she said, quickly heading toward the open glass doors. Then a wave of dizziness stopped her in her tracks. What was happening? Could it be the perfumes?
    She’d always managed to keep them at bay. She had learned early on to ignore them, pushing them to the sidelines. From the age of twelve, she’d always been the one to decide when and how much they mattered. She’d loved them, feared them and then learned to control them.
    But that morning, she realized, the perfumes were getting the better of her, dragging her back, making her remember, making her look at things she’d rather not see.
    â€œAre you all right, Elena? You look awful. You’re not thinking about that idiot Matteo again, are you?” Monique took her by the arm and got her to stand still.
    Struggling to compose herself, Elena looked at the high stone walls, followed their outline to focus on the steel beams. Ancient and modern. A match that might seem jarring, but which was actually charming and full of character.
    â€œAnd stop staring at the walls. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what’s wrong.”
    Elena looked at Monique, then laughed, putting her face in her hands. “Has anyone ever told you you’re like a bulldog?”
    The other girl shrugged “
Oui
.” She tapped her finger on her bottom lip. “It’s called character,
chérie
. So, tell me what’s got into you today. You’re even weirder than usual.”
    A sigh swept away the tension between the two women.
    â€œIt’s the perfumes. I can’t stand them today.”
    Monique burst out laughing. “You’re joking, right?”
    But Elena wasn’t smiling anymore, and her eyes were watery and tired.
    â€œListen,” Monique said, wagging her finger, “I need your skills. I need a nose, or the nearest thing I can get. If I go back to Paris without a truly original creation, Jacques . . . Things aren’t how they used to be between us, Elena. I want to surprise him. I want him to respect me.”
    â€œI’m not a nose, Monique,” Elena objected, trying to control the wave of nausea rising from her stomach.
    Her friend pursed her lips. “No, you’re much more than that. You don’t just smell an essence, you see beyond it. Perfume holds no secrets for you.”
    â€œAnd you think that’s an advantage, do you?” Elena asked bitterly. The words left her lips before she could stop them, before she could suppress them and hide them. Nose or not, Elena didn’t want her sense of smell to run her life. It had already taken her childhood, and she’d decided that that was all she was prepared to give it.
    Rationality, that’s what she needed. She had to think; she had to react.
    There was a mixture of exasperation and patience in Monique’s voice as she replied, “Yes, it probably would be an advantage, even if you looked after sheep for a living. You’d be able to sniff out foxes. But as it happens, you’re a perfumier, and a damn good one. And you know enough about perfume to be able to find something unique for me, a composition that will really give my boss something to think about, set a new trend. Something to add to the Narcissus line. I’m not kidding—I really do need you. Will you help me?”
    Elena looked around. A light breeze brought the scent of Florence in over her shoulder; it smelled of sun-baked tiles, dreams and traditions, whispered love and hope.
    She blinked, took a deep breath and gave in.
    She’d never been able to stand up to Monique. Her friend had been bossing her around ever since they were little, when they had had their first race, running through streams in the Provence countryside, and ended up tumbling in a heap.
    That’s how they met, in the middle of the wild mint bushes, not far from the workers collecting the flowers.