The Perfumer He Forgot

Chapter 3 The Access Badge

The open-plan office had a hundred clicking keyboards and air conditioning that never stopped humming. A cheap floral air freshener stung my nose.

My assigned grey desk was wedged between a nervous junior chemist and a dying potted plant.

Everything I had taken from the lab fit into one cardboard box. Leo sat beside it on a spare chair, coloring in his workbook.

His crayon scratched over the paper while the junior chemist kept glancing our way.

Expensive heels clicked across the linoleum. I knew who it was before Chloe reached us.

She stopped at my desk. “Oh, there you are. I was wondering where they’d put you.”

My silver access badge dangled from her fingers. It had the highest level of clearance and opened every door in my lab, including the formula vault and calibration room.

She swung it by the lanyard, flashing its silver face under the overhead lights.

“Arthur wanted me to have this. He said I’ll need full access to, you know, oversee things.”

Then she looked into the box and spotted a star-shaped bottle of amber liquid.

I had made the calming scent for Leo with lavender, chamomile, and a private molecule that helped him sleep when the processor gave him headaches.

“How cute.” She reached for it. “One of your little side projects? Maybe I can use it as inspiration.”

I covered the bottle before her fingers touched it. “It’s not for you.”

Her smile slipped. “A bit territorial, aren’t we, Serena?”

“Some things aren’t meant to be shared.”

Arthur arrived with my hand still over the bottle. Chloe pulled her arm to her chest and looked up at him. His frown landed on me before he asked a single question.

He went straight to Chloe. “Is everything alright? She’s not bothering you, is she?”

“Of course not.” Chloe lowered her eyes. “I was just admiring her work.”

Arthur glanced at me, then saw Leo and curled his lip.

“What is he doing here? Serena, this is a place of business, not a daycare. The global showcase is in two days. Chloe needs to focus without this distraction.”

He dismissed his own son with the same flick of his hand he had used for the box at my feet.

“Get him out of here. Take him home. Now.”

Leo stopped coloring. He set down his red crayon, slid off the chair, and faced his father.

After taking two steps back, he caught hold of my skirt. His voice came out clear.

“Goodbye, Mr. Sterling.”

Arthur froze. His mouth opened, but for once, no order came out. He stared at our five-year-old until Leo turned away.

I picked up the box, took my son’s hand, and left. Leo didn’t look back at his father. Behind us, the access badge knocked against Chloe’s wrist.

Hours later, the plane’s engines settled into a steady hum. Leo slept with his head on my lap while the lights of New York fell away below us.

In his sleep, the tightness had left his face. One hand still rested over the pocket holding his processor.

I opened Arthur’s contact. His smiling photograph filled the screen. I pressed *Block*.

The contact went dark. I turned off the screen and rested my hand on Leo’s back.