Sense of Smell

"I understand. The odds are extremely long. But if we don't try, the odds are zero, right?"

"Always the scientist, eh?" Roger said a little more cheerfully.

"Numbers aren't sexy, but they never lie," she told them. "And right now the numbers are saying we have our work cut out for us."

"Does this mean you'll be staying?"

"Short-term, anyway. If we try and fail, we'll be selling what's left of the company. If we somehow succeed, I should also be able to find someone by then to run the business; a business that'll once again be profitable. Worst case, I can stay until we have to declare bankruptcy, and I guess we'll figure things out from there."

"I do like your spirit, Connie," Roger told her. He thought about adding, "Your mom, however...not so much," but knew that was both unkind and unnecessary albeit true.

"Thank you. And how can I not try? My father figuratively and now literally gave his life to this business, and not to be overly dramatic, but he gave life to me, too. So I really do owe it to him to try. And if I try, I have to be 'all in'."

"Okay, then I'm 'all in', too. If I can do anything else, anything at all, you just let me know."

"Get that notice out as fast as possible, and I'll take it from there," Connie told him, even though she had little hope of actually taking it anywhere.

With Roger gone, and the information he provided fresh on her mind, Connie was torn about what to do next. She'd never run the business, and yet she felt compelled to at least go in and do whatever she could. The employees would all be deeply concerned about their jobs, and rightly so. Most of them would also want to know about plans for a memorial service, so she decided to go in and start by talking with everyone.

To her surprise, every person, without exception, was working as though nothing had happened. Until she walked in, that is. From the moment the first person saw her and stopped working, the remainder of them did the same thing until all of them were gathered around her.

"Hello, everyone," Connie began. "I wanted to take a few moments and tell you as much as I know. Unfortunately, that isn't much, but I'll share everything I have with you."

Five minutes later, her father's employees, who were now hers, knew as much as she did.

"How can we help?" was the first question.

"Well, by attending the memorial service for starters. Beyond that, if you know anyone in the business who knows anyone, ask them to help us find a new 'nose'. This order is quite literally a make-or-break issue for us."

Until she told them no one knew how serious this order was as her late father hadn't shared that information with anyone other than his longtime friend and attorney. That wasn't unusual as their jobs were to do their individual parts and leave the final product up to their longtime employer and owner of Dynex.

Connie spent some time explaining the ramifications of failing to comply with the order, which, in effect, meant bankruptcy. That, in turn, meant the end of the company and their jobs.

The remaining time of four months seemed more than adequate to anyone not familiar with the difficulties involved, but in reality, Connie knew full well even six months would be pushing it. They quite literally needed a miracle of some sort, and not being one to believe in such things, Connie knew the only answer was to push as hard and as fast as possible to find someone to create this 'mystical scent' then get it into production ASAP.

"Gee, no pressure," she said to herself as everyone went back to work.

She really didn't know any of them well, but it was obvious her late father had done a fantastic job of recruiting quality people. She also knew they would be putting out feelers in the very near future as a way of hedging their bets. After all, they had families to support, mortgages to pay, and the same financial obligations everyone else had.

Already feeling under water, Connie spent the rest of the day with her mother working on the details of the memorial service, and in spite of her cold attitude, they somehow managed to agree on what needed to be done.

The following day, Connie spent most of her time sorting through the replies from Roger as to the leads he had where it came to finding a new 'nose'.

It was both encouraging and discouraging in that there were quite a few replies. The problem was that most of them didn't have the credentials. Virtually every master perfumer on earth was well known within the community, but there were a few 'sleepers' out there with the raw talent who hadn't been given the opportunity to prove themselves.

She immediately set up interviews with the three that looked most promising, and those would begin several days after her father's memorial service which was now just 24 hours away.

That thought caused her to do some further reflecting, knowing full well his body was being cremated sometime that afternoon. Once again, she did her best to fight off tears of sadness, all the while feeling completely helpless, and now, as the hours passed—hopeless.

The memorial service was held at the Episcopalian Church where the Martin family had been members for decades. Like every other woman in attendance, Connie wore black to the memorial where a beautiful, shiny, dark-wooden casket, covered in flowers, was on display with a small urn in front of it containing all that remained of the only man who'd ever made her feel safe and loved.

Unlike her mother, she didn't wear a veil, but each time she teared up during the service, she almost wished she had. In the end, her mascara held, and her eyes were barely red and only slightly puffy as she shook hands and hugged all those who offered their condolences.

The Lanes also attended, and patiently bided their time until nearly everyone was gone before approaching Connie once she was alone. That she wasn't near her mother wasn't something they'd planned, but they couldn't help but feel relieved.

As they walked up, Connie's brain searched its memory banks for the name, and when it came to her, she smiled and accepted the hug the older woman was offering her.

"Mrs. Lane. It's so good to see you again!" Connie said sincerely, as they hugged one another for several seconds.

"You, too, Connie, and I can't tell you how sorry I am you lost your father."

"Thank you. That means so much coming from you. I know you're all too familiar with the pain of loss."

As she spoke, she glanced down and noticed the little girl in the tiny black dress.

Connie knelt down and said with a smile, "Hi there, pretty girl. What's your name?"

She reached for her father's leg and held on tight as he answered for her.

"This is Lexi," Adam told her.

Connie stood up, smiled, and extended a hand, then the smiled faded.

"Are you're..."

"Adam," he told her.

"Yes. Of course. Now I remember. The last time I saw you, both of us were home visiting. I remembered meeting you before that, but didn't know your name. I did, however, most definitely notice your beautiful wife at the company Christmas party. Is she here by any chance?" Connie asked politely and innocently.

Adam briefly lowered his head before looking back up.

"No. She um, she...passed away when Lexi was born."

Connie was so shocked she covered her mouth with both hands then, without thinking, put her arms around Adam.

"Oh, my goodness. Adam, I am so, so sorry."

Before he could reply, she bent back down and hugged Lexi who was still clinging her to her daddy's leg.

"I...I don't know what to even say," Connie said after standing back up.

"I believe you just said everything anyone could say," Adam told her with a polite smile. "And right now the focus is on you—not us."

His mother chimed in in agreement and asked how they could help.

"Oh, my gosh. I don't really know," she replied honestly.

"Well, as people who've been through this, we're available. Anytime," Marilyn told Connie.

"That is so very kind of you, Mrs. Lane. Thank you so much."

"Of course, and please call me Marilyn."

Connie promised she would then there was a moment of silence.

"So there's nothing we can do?" Adam asked. "Nothing at all?"

Connie thought for a moment then said, "No. Not unless you know where we could find a 'nose'..."

She stopped then explained, assuming they might not be familiar with the term.

Adam smiled and told her he'd heard the term a time or two.

"Oh, yes. Of course. I'm so sorry. You've been around the growing end of the business all your life, so you've certainly heard all of the jargon."

Adam only smiled politely while his mother spoke.

"And while my son may not be that good with scents, he has this uncanny ability to detect pretty much anything that no one else even notices," Marilyn told her.

"Wait. Seriously?" Connie asked, now at least mildly interested.

Adam smiled then told her, "When we hugged I could tell there were floral and musky notes in your perfume along with a hint of something woody."

In the world of perfume, there are eight main olfactive families: green, fruity, herbal, floral, woody, musky, and oriental. Each of them has about a hundred different ingredients. There are further 'notes' or hints of scents, and being able to differentiate them was what made a 'nose' so valuable.

"That's...incredible," Connie replied. "Have you ever been tested?"

Adam laughed and told her his late father had suggested it several times.

"I just never took him very seriously," he told her. "As you said, we're the growers and not the makers."

"Would you at least be willing to stop by and let us find out just how good this 'uncanny sense' of yours is?" Connie asked hopefully.

"Well, we are here to help, and if that helps in any way, then yes, I'd be glad to."

"Oh, my goodness. Adam, that is so wonderful!" she replied, her voice picking up. "Let me give you my number, and please call me at your earliest convenience, okay?"

Adam entered her information and asked if the next day was too soon.

"Oh, heavens no! That would be perfect, actually."

He wanted to ask if they could also talk business—meaning his end of their business arrangement—but that was seemed so inappropriate he didn't mention it. But he would tactfully bring it up after this testing was over.

Adam was up at 6am and went out for a run at seven. Unlike nearly all of his friends he'd stayed in touch with after leaving active duty, he was the only one who continued to run and work out. Early mornings were the best as that let him get it out of the way before getting Lexi ready to go then heading to work. Having his mother available and even thrilled to help out with her granddaughter made it all the more easy.

Five miles later he was back home feeling on top of the world, and after a hot shower and a warm breakfast, he was ready to start his day.

He waited until around 11 o'clock before texting Connie, and although he expected a prompt reply, he was surprised when his phone 'dinged' before he could set it down.

"Yes, that's perfect," she replied immediately to his suggestion of stopping by anytime after lunch.

"In fact, it would be my pleasure to take you lunch, if that works for you," she added.

Adam smiled when he read her reply then texted back, "I'd like that. But you don't need to pay for my meal."

He added a smiley face to let her know he wasn't being indignant like some men might after a woman offered to pay. If she insisted he'd let her, but it just went against his nature to let a woman pay for anything. 'Letting' her pay for her own food was hard enough, but allowing her to buy his was out of the question.

"A traditional man, I see," she texted back. "I actually like that."

As he was reading those lines another text came in.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I hope you didn't think I was implying anything."

Adam laughed quietly before texting her back.

"First of all, I suppose I am a traditional kind of guy. Or at least I try to be. So unless you stop me, I'll open doors for you and help you get seated. And no, I didn't think you were implying anything."

He hit 'send' then thought about and made a 'what the heck' decision and added, "But I wouldn't be offended if you were implying something."

Just as he hit 'send' again, her reply came back, and this time he laughed a little louder.

"Oh, good. I was sitting here trying to imagine what a nice-looking, younger guy like you would think if a woman my age was implying something. So I'm glad we cleared that up!"

Connie realized they were out of synch, and when she sent that reply, his came in and she momentarily experienced something she hadn't felt in quite some time.

"He...he has to teasing," she said to herself when she read his words about not minding if she was making some sort of implication.

The feeling quickly passed after she assured herself he was only being polite. Even so, the fact that it had rattled her, even momentarily, came as a huge surprise. She sat there for a few more seconds to make sure no other follow-on texts came in then suggested a time and place to meet.

"Have you been to 300 East?" she texted.

"No. I've heard of it but never been. Is that where you'd like to meet?"

"If that's okay with you, yes. Maybe...12:30?"

"Great. See you then," Adam replied.

Since he spent quite a bit of time outdoors, Adam normally wore jeans to work, but today he'd thrown on some Dockers and a decent shirt just in case he ended up at Dynex.

At the time he made the choice it was purely out of looking somewhat more professional. Now, however, after their brief-but-pleasant exchange of texts, Adam found himself thankful he'd worn something nicer.

He fully realized this was a business lunch and that Connie was home for the worst of all possible reasons. And yet as he drove toward the east side of Charlotte, he found himself thinking about how beautiful she was even when dressed all in black. He almost felt slightly guilty for even thinking that way, but he understood it was a normal thing for a single man to do; even one who'd been forced into being single by having lost the love of his life less than three years ago.

Adam was habitually early to everything, and this was no exception. He found a place to park then walked up the steps of the restored house that was now a restaurant with the look and feel of a home.

The hostess opened the door for him and welcomed him, but Adam let her know he was meeting someone. She told him she understood then left him near the door where he kept watch for this woman he barely remembered from the past. He found it strange he didn't recall seeing her the last time he'd been home with his late wife, but then, Kristi was so beautiful he never had cause to look. It wasn't that he never noticed other women, they just rarely made an impression on him unless they spent some talking because he was head-over-heels in love with his wife.

And yet Connie Martin was every bit as attractive as Kristi had been, albeit quite a bit older. So once again he was slightly conflicted about wishing he had noticed her even as he worked through the reason he hadn't.

And just as he finished wrapping up in his internal dialogue, he saw her walking toward the front steps.

Adam walked out onto the porch, smiled, then said, "Hi."

Connie looked up, smiled back, and said, "Good afternoon!"

True to his word, he extended a hand as she walked up the 4-5 steps then opened the door for her.

"So you really are a gentleman," she said with a warm smile.

"I uh...I do try," he told her as the hostess approached them.

"All set now?" she asked Adam.

"Yes. I believe we are," he replied as he looked at Connie.

The truth was he hadn't stopped looking since he first saw her. She was still wearing black, but she otherwise looked entirely different. The dress was wearing was knit and clung to her very shapely figure in a way the dress she'd worn to the memorial hadn't. Even though the other dress didn't cling, even it couldn't hide her better feminine features. This one, however, displayed them in the most flattering way possible, and Adam was doing his best not to stare.

Her blonde hair had been worn up during the memorial, and while it had also looked nice, the difference in the way it looked today was just as stark in the difference between the two dresses. The former had been very formal while the latter was nothing short of...sexy. That hadn't been her intent, but it was indeed the final result.

Connie was also wearing a shiny coat of lipstick, something else she'd felt was inappropriate for a solemn occasion, and further changing her overall look. As he helped her get seated, Adam again noticed the distinctive scent of her perfume and commented about it.

"I didn't notice the oaky tone in the woodiness yesterday," he said as he went around the table.

"Oh, my goodness. That's incredible," she told him as she watched him sit down.

"Thank you, and may I say you look...incredible."

Connie's expression brightened as she replied.

"You may. And thank you very much. I'm trying to be...traditional...with the black, but I'm not sure why."

"Well, whatever the reason is, you look...amazing," he told her in a way that gave rise to that same kind of feeling she'd had when they were texting.

"You look very nice yourself," she told him as their server took their drink orders, both of which were for 'sweet tea'.

Adam smiled then decided to do something he just didn't do. He flirted.

"Thank you. And for the record, you're not...implying...anything by that, are you?"

His smile was happy and playful, and evidently contagious.

Connie opened her eyes widely then smiled back just as brightly.

"Um, noooo. I wasn't...implying...anything," she informed him.

Her words were just as playful as his so Adam said, "Oh, okay. Just checking."

She both slightly lowered and tilted her head in a look of mild disapproval before being unable to hold it. She smiled then laughed quietly before asking him what looked good.

"Um...everything," he said as he glanced at the menu.

As they ate, Connie explained the situation at work to Adam the way she had to her employees.

"So that's the urgency in finding a new 'nose'," she said concluding the 'brief'.

"That sounds downright daunting," Adam told her directly.

"Yes. Yes, it is. And with the short amount of time to meet our deadline, it's starting to seem impossible."

"And it's all locked up in that tiny little vial around your neck?" he asked just to make sure he'd heard correctly.

Connie reached up and touched it almost reverently then said, "I probably shouldn't be wearing it, huh?"

She felt foolish for not having thought of that already. It was the only sample of the perfume anywhere on earth, and yet she'd worn it nearly every day of her life since her father gave it to her, so she tried not to be too hard on herself.

"When we get to Dynex I'd like to smell it. If you don't mind, of course."

"No. Not at all. In fact, I'm hoping against hope you'll be able to detect whatever we'll need to be able to recreate this perfume in the quantity needed."

"And all by the deadline," Adam said in a way that told her he understood the gravity of the task.

There was a fairly long lull at one point, and Adam could see she wanted to ask him something.

When he mentioned it, she shook her head then said, "No. It's nothing."

"I don't mind," he told her. "You can ask me anything."

His voice was gentle and kind, and it made her feel that she could.

"I...I was so saddened by what you told me yesterday. I also don't know why I hadn't heard about, you know, the loss of your wife, but I really didn't know."

"You and I both moved away from here, so it seems reasonable to think it wouldn't come up during a call or a casual visit home," he suggested.