The Scent of Mimosa

The proposal

Vince flinched only marginally at her words. He was pretty much immune to embarrassment, but truth be told, he had unconsciously assumed she was someone peripheral.

He would normally have done his research before trying to broker any deal this size, but this time he hadn't had the chance. It would only be a matter of time before the rival perfume houses came for Guipard, so instead of hitting the history books, he had climbed straight on a plane when his meeting with Imogen concluded. His flight from London had landed in Nice barely two hours ago. Tonight, he intended to look thoroughly over the history and status of the company.

"That's not what I thought. It's just your surname. I assumed I was looking for a Guipard.'' Although he wasn't sure why, he had already noticed that she wasn't wearing a wedding band. Ducasse was not her married name.

''Well, you've got your Guipard, Mr. Callaghan. My mother was the only daughter of Sara MacFayden and Claude Guipard. Perhaps you have heard of them?''

Cassandra relished the clang as she dropped the names of her famous grandparents. She knew she was giving him a hard time, but she just wanted to be rid of him. He could take his sexy smell and his expensive suit and walk right out of her house the same way he had walked in, she decided: with an arrogant saunter. Then she could get on with her daily routine, dream away a couple of hours in the garden and perhaps listen to a bit of music. 

He may be trying his damndest to be pleasant, disarming even, but it wasn't going to work with her. She wasn't the kind of girl to fall for that smooth as silk voice and slick charm. That was all sparks and whistles to hide whatever it was that Mr. Vincent Callaghan really wanted, and one way or another that would be money.

''May I sit?'' Vince asked, gesturing to one of the armchairs. He wanted to be comfortable while he broached his topic. The Guipard girl wasn't giving him any slack, and he realized the need to tread carefully. 

She obviously found him insincere. He found it ironic, really. There were plenty of times he had used his charisma to get his way with women he didn't particularly like, but this didn't happen to be one of them. In fact, from where Vince was standing, his hostess wasn't bad looking. He felt she could use some other clothes and a bit of polish perhaps, but another time, another place, who knows? He might have taken a liking to her.

He sat, and reluctantly Cassandra took his lead. She perched with an erect spine on the edge of a chaise longue, her hands folded in her lap.

''I am here because I have a proposition for you Ms. Ducasse,'' he began. ''It is a suggestion that I reckon could be of great benefit...,'' inadvertently his eyes slid around the dilapidated room, ''to both of our companies.''

Cassandra was normally impervious to the sort of social assessment that condemned her as in any way lacking. She had made her choices and lived her life comfortably by them. But something about Vince Callaghan's appraisal pierced her armor and she felt a heated shaft of anger. Who was he to judge her? she seethed.  He was looking at her home as if it weren't good enough. She wanted to send him packing right now, but unless she heard him out, he probably wouldn't leave her alone. She just had to sit through his proposal, tell him no, and then she would be rid of him.

''I trust that you have heard of Imogen,'' he went on.

Even Cassandra, who lived a peculiarly reclusive life, had heard of Imogen. Nobody hadn't heard of her. Fifteen years ago, she had been a chart-topping punk-rocker, ten years ago an academy award winning actress. Today she was a media production powerhouse and a perpetual A-list celebrity. Imogen was nothing short of an icon.

She nodded for Vince to continue.   

''Well, Ms. Ducasse, as the owner of a perfume house, you must have wondered, when so many dispensable young starlets sport two, or even three of their own scents, why has Imogen never launched a fragrance of her own?'' He raised one linear dark brow in question but didn't wait for her to answer. ''The thing is that Imogen is... how shall I put this? rather picky about the quality of her perfume.''