Read Online The Scent of Rain by Kristin Billerbeck - Free Book Online Page A

questions.
    It dawned on her that her job might be more dangerous without her nose. It wasn’t just the matter of measuring proper values in a pipette. Now she’d be working with more cleaning agents. But she hoped with the loss of one sense, her others would only get stronger until scent came back to her. As she took in her surroundings, Kensie patted her on the shoulder and yelled over the noise.
    â€œThis is the formulation lab. Fragrance is down at the other end, but both Willard”—Kensie motioned toward a man who wasn’t old enough for the name Willard; he was maybe fifty and stood with a volumetric pipette measuring solution— “and John”—she pointed to the younger man at the centrifuge machine—“count on fragrance to work well with their formulations. If they don’t, trust me, you’ll hear about it in the staff meeting. They can’t confront, so they have to tattle like second graders. Around these parts, the scent doesn’t come first. Marketing is first, product second. Scent is discussed in marketing. Beauty works out of its own lab and has four scientists on staff. They don’t usually mix. I suppose you’ll be in the fragrance lab by yourself.”
    Kensie had been shouting to be heard, and as Willard flicked off his fume hood, the room got eerily quiet.
    â€œIs that so?” Daphne crossed her arms. She’d never heard of a company that placed marketing over product, but it might be the reason Gibraltar was still so small. If the company followed Kensie’s sashaying hips, it was bound to lose focus. Her father had always told her to be careful with upper management who hired model-like assistants; he claimed their love of beauty clouded their ability to run a company and do the hard tasks. She wondered what dear old Dad would say about a marketing manager with those same qualifications. “Did you go to school for product marketing?”
    Kensie whipped around and stared at her. “Do you mean, like, college?”
    â€œWell, yeah. I suppose so.”
    â€œWhile others were letting Daddy’s trust fund pay for their tuition and buy houses, I was off in the school of hard knocks learning to be the best marketing manager there is. You don’t need a degree to be good at something.” Kensie swung her hair with force. “I’m adamant about that, you’ll find out. I don’t care what the degrees on your wall say; I only care that you can do the job.”
    â€œOf course,” Daphne said. “I had a stellar sense of smell before I became a nose. School just honed my skills. It helped me to understand how the business of fragrance works. It was like getting my MBA in smelling.” She smiled.
    Kensie didn’t seem impressed. “Some of us have to find ways other than graduate school to hone our skill set.” She held her arm out and walked toward the older man as if she were solving the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune . “So this is Willard. Say hello, Willard.”
    Willard noticed their presence at that point and gave a short nod. Maybe Daphne had expected too much of Gibraltar after Anne’s warm welcome. It wouldn’t be the first time her high expectations let her down. Willard seemed like a stuffy man in his short white dress shirt and Buddy Holly glasses. A typical science nerd. At least fragrance chemists held conversations in the lab. Or the ones she knew did anyway. They spoke so quickly in French that she caught about every sixth word, but the activity around her made her feel a part of something. In Paris, the space was so confined; it felt like she was among friends even if she was sitting alone in a corner café. At the very least, the waiters would flirt with her.
    â€œIs he always so quiet?” she whispered to Kensie.
    â€œHe nodded. That’s a full conversation to Willard. Over there is John.”
    John walked away from his machine and came toward them.