Unscentable By Jennifer Francis Novels & Stories

Scarlett resolutely refused. After that, Scarlett turned to leave. Right then, she ran into the last person she felt like seeing. It was Jennifer and Claire. They were walking towards her. “Wow… what the fuck? It really is my lucky day, isn’t it?” Scarlett frowned and muttered under her breath. “Don’t talk like that! You are a mother now!” Francis urged. As they came closer, Jenifer ignored Scarlett completely. Instead, she went straight up to Francis. She extended her palm to shake Francis’s hand and said, “Well, what a lovely coincidence, Mr. Sandler. Fancy meeting you here.”

The scent of her perfume still lingered in my office, cloying and heavy. I thought of Eloise, of her quiet resilience and trembling strength. I thought of Lucian, too blinded by regret and guilt to see the truth unravelling at his feet. And then I thought of Jennifer, so desperate to win a war she’d never been invited to fight in the first place. As I opened my eyes, staring at the city that never slept, a weary sadness settled in my chest. “She’ll ruin everyone around her before she’s satisfied,” I whispered to no one.

The foreign perfumer said, “But… Even after thinking very hard, I still can’t figure out what scent it is. Ms. Jones, would you please grant me the answer?” His words calmed Gabriel down. All the cameras and perfumers turned their attention to Melanie, waiting expectantly for the answer regarding her surprising fragrance. Melanie said, “The scent everyone’s so curious about isn’t the traditional kind many are familiar with. I just collected the scent of my friend.” “Is it your boyfriend?” one reported asked excitedly after a few moments of silence. Everyone could sense gossip in the air. The perfumers on stage began to tease her. “No wonder the fragrance you made is so pure and moving, Ms. J

I thought inwardly, and walked to the far end and sniffed, but I couldn't smell her. "What's wrong? Can't you smell her again?" Justin asked, his face furrowed in a puzzle. He walked and stood beside me. "I don't know. I can't seem to perceive her scent any longer. I don't know what's wrong?" I slapped my forehead. Everything is just happening like a film; a very badly and poorly written script acted by the worst characters on earth, and watching it alone is freaking the hell out of me. The scene is confusing, even when I try to recall and process everything; I still can't understand.

I say as I peer through the boutique’s glass windows. I gently slide open the door and step inside, immediately hit by the thick scent of fabric, perhaps even too strong. My eyes sweep across the space before me. The senator's attire, which I had seen through the glass windows, was impressive, but these perfectly arranged outfits on the racks were breathtaking. Who’s here?" I call out. “Helloooo?" I repeat, this time with more irritation. “Good evening, sir. Welcome to Ere’s Scent." A soft, almost shy voice replies from somewhere in the boutique.

[note to QI: above line says perfume too, so I kept this neutral/vague by changing to liquid] She then glared at me and asked, "Did you tamper with the perfume, Helena?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking completely innocent. "What on earth are you talking about? Why don't I understand what you're getting at, Queenie? Is it possible that your perfume has simply gone bad?" Queenie asked through gritted teeth, "Didn't you realize that the person who uses this perfume can't actually smell it? How did the perfume I gave you end up on my vanity, Helena?"

Aurel I couldn’t endure the pheromones anymore, my grip on the tray in my hands loosening as I stagger forward, my vision blurring slightly. I try to steady the tray in my hands, but my fingers are not cooperating anymore. The glasses clink against each other, a soft, irritating sound that keeps repeating as my hand won’t stop shaking. I suck in a breath through my nose, immediately regretting it as that same thick smell fills my lungs again, heavy and sharp, mixed with sweat and sex and something else underneath that makes my stomach turn.

Was that part of the challenge? Behind the twenty female Haunt emerged twenty dancers. These women were dressed identically in red harem pants and short vests. The pants were slit at both inner and outer thigh and cuffed at the heel. As they danced with their long, silken scarves, a strange, drugging perfume wafted over the men. Reminded of Andrea’s natural, desire-producing scent, Mathin blessed the Deity for his recent exposure. Hopefully the slight immunity he’d built up would serve him in good stead now.

She mumbled. Damien chuckled, taking a swig from the wine bottle in front of him. He stood up, walking behind her. Turning back, he leaned in, hovering over from her behind. " This is why I said we need to team up. If we had, that wouldn't have happened." He muttered, amusingly. Damien smelled of tobacco and wine, a sharp contrast to Gerald's expensive cologne. Scarlett grimaced, hating that he was right. Shifting uncomfortably on her seat, she turned to him.

“It’s my fault.” I looked up at him and close my eyes as his thumb wiped my tears away. I sniffed. “Wow, you’re wearing the perfume I gave you!” He chuckled. “Yeah, I remember, this smell is your favorite.” I smiled but my smile vanished when flashbacks of our past flashed in my mind like a slideshow. Damn.