"Everything is in place. We just need to decide on the execution date. If you agree, we can start tomorrow." Julian spoke with his usual professional precision, but as the silence stretched on, he realized he wasn't getting a response. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Phoebe. Her face had gone pale, and she was visibly bracing herself against a wave of nausea.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"
Phoebe tried to draw a deep breath, but the masculine scent she usually adored now felt like a physical assault. The nausea rose in her throat, bitter and urgent, forcing her defenses to crumble right in front of him. She nearly retched, the suddenness of it sending a jolt of alarm through Julian.
"Sorry, sorry," she gasped, her hand over her mouth.
Julian's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it? Are you coming down with something?"
"No, it's not that … but, what are you wearing today?!" Phoebe's voice rose to a pitch she didn't intend, her tone sharper than usual. Fortunately, the place was relatively quiet, but Julian still recoiled slightly, instinctively sniffing his own sleeve.
"Why is something wrong? This is the scent I bought because you recommended it to me," Julian replied, confused.
"It stinks! I can't stand it!" The words spilled out before Phoebe could filter them. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend you, but the smell of your perfume … it's making my head spin and my stomach turn!" She realized immediately how harsh she sounded, as if she were pinning a crime on him.
Julian remained silent for a long moment, re-testing the scent himself, but nothing had changed. It was the same fragrance he had worn for months.
"Why would it make you dizzy now?" Julian asked softly, handing her a bottle of mineral water. "I've been using this for a long time. You used to compliment me on it. You said it was one of your favorites." His answer struck a chord of silence in Phoebe, her mind raced, grappling with the inconsistency.
Julian was the same, his perfume was the same, yet her world seemed to be spinning in the wrong direction. A small, cold fear began to crawl into the corners of her mind, a fear more chilling than the air conditioning in the room.
"I … I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Phoebe whispered, her eyes darting away. "But the smell really did make me lightheaded."
Julian, ever the supportive anchor, didn't show a hint of offense. Instead, he quietly unbuttoned and removed his blazer. "Can you still smell it?"
"A little," Phoebe admitted, instinctively shifting her seat further away. The aroma felt suffocating, forcing her to reach into her bag for her own perfume. "Again, I'm so sorry. If you're willing … maybe you could use mine for now? It's fresher. I hope it can mask yours."
With a calm nod, Julian took her bottle and applied it. The scent was indeed fresh, but the question mark in Julian's mind didn't fade. He wasn't wearing anything new.
Phoebe sat in a long, heavy silence, her heart and mind at war. Was I too harsh? Did I hurt him?
"Julian," she called out softly. He looked up immediately. "Again, I am so sorry if i offended you."
A warm, genuine smile spread across Julian's face. "It's no problem. Maybe your mood is just off, or you're feeling under the weather. A strong scent can be overwhelming when you're tired. Don't worry about it."
His sincerity was a relief, and Phoebe offered a small, grateful smile, though the guilt, and that lingering, cold fear, remained anchored in her chest.
What is actually happening to me? She wondered silently. Why did that scent suddenly make me so sick?
****
"Are you still looking for a job? Or would you rather just join my office or manage one of my boutiques?" Phoebe asked, her gaze drifting toward Celia with a relaxed, effortless air.
"Emh … actually, a few places have reached out, but I'm not entirely committed yet. I still want to enjoy y free time," Celia replied. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "As for working with you … maybe not right now. I'd rather not be in the same workplace."
"Why not?"
"I don't want people thinking I'm taking advantage of my best friend. I don't want to live off your success."
"Hey! No one is living off anyone," Phoebe countered firmly, her gaze sharpening with the look of a woman who built empires. "You'd be working for my company, if you get a salary and bonuses, that's payment for the effort you put in."
Celia let out a small, playful laugh, leaning back into the plush upholstery. "That's true! But, maybe later. I'm still enjoying the break, and my boyfriend is providing for me right now anyway. Is it so wrong it I choose to rest from the working world for a bit?"
A supportive smile tugged at Phoebe's lips as she nodded in understanding. "It's okay! Enjoy your time, girl! Once you're busy, even finding time to rest is a luxury. While you have the time and life is good, savor it, because not everyone gets that chance."
"Like you, right?" Celia remarked casually, though a hint of a tease danced in her eyes. "Now that you're a big boss like this, do you even have a day that isn't busy?"
Offering only a weary smirk, Phoebe refused to take the bait. "Exactly! When you're struggling, it's exhausting because you're constantly thinking of how to become successful, but then, once you've made it, you realize you still have to work just as hard."
"It's okay. Plenty of people would kill to be in you position, a successful career woman, a beautiful boss, and rich!"
They shared a light laugh until Celia's expression shifted, remembering the heavy topic that had been hovering over them since they arrived. "So, what did you want to discuss? Do you finally have the time?"
"Oh right, I almost forgot. Don't worry, I have time! If I were still busy, I wouldn't have called you to come here."
"So," Celia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What is it?"
"After that incident at the Café, where I demanded he show himself within 48 hours, it turns out…"
"Turns out what?" Cellia asked, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her.
Phoebe's brow furrowed as she gave her friend a stern look. "That's why you need to be patient. I'm trying to tell you the whole story, but you keep cutting me off."
"Okay, okay! Sorry! Please, go on!"
"It turns out, two men came to see me." Phoebe's tone turned serious as the gravity of the situation returned. "One is the man I mentioned before, the one who showed up at the office to ask me out for lunch and brought gifts." The memory of Luca Moretti's arrival was still vivid. "And now, another man has appeared out of nowhere…"
"Out of nowhere and claimed he's seeing you?" Celia interrupted again, her mind flashing back to the headlines that had set the city on fire.
A reluctant nod followed. "Yes, he showed up with this sudden claim that we're close. And you know what? He actually came to my house this morning!" At this point, the connection still hadn't fully formed in Phoebe's mind, the mounting work on her desk had buried her intuition.
"Then, who is the person actually sending you all those gifts?"
"Exactly! That's what I wanted to talk about," Phoebe exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over. "Both of them appeared within the time limit I set. That's why I'm so confused."
"Leaning forward, her eyes narrowing as she processed the mystery, Celia finally voiced the question Phoebe had been avoiding. "But … aren't you suspicious of the man who suddenly appeared and claimed you two were close? Especially since he just showed up at your front door. How would he know your home address if he wasn't the one sending you those expensive gifts all this time?"