Scent
***Kedi***
The scent reached me before I even saw him.
Spring flowers and warm spices mixed with something inexplicable. I had smelled it all morning and afternoon, though the stalls had only been filled with sugary fried dough.
The man held my gaze as he walked towards me, his chic brown tweed suit making him stand out from the crowd. The closer he got, the stronger the scent became.
It hit me all at once when he stopped in front of me. Lavender, cloves, and amber. I inhaled deeply, flooding my greedy lungs with the intoxicating concoction. It was decadent. Compelling. Almost tangible.
His hand came between us. “Hello, you must be Kedi.”
Goosebumps rose on my skin. I looked down. Yes, that was a hand. What was I supposed to do with it? When I looked back up, his rich olive-green eyes smiled down at me.
“Forgive my manners,” he said gently, and pushed his hand out a little further. “I’m Macan Sere, the organiser of the event.”
I took it, mesmerised by the golden rings around his irises. He towered at least a head above me, replacing the air around us with this strange fragrance. The scent sank into my skin, and I was sure I was somehow feeling him even beyond where we were touching. My eyes begged to roam over the rest of him but I couldn’t part with his gaze.
With a firm pressure on my hand, a horrible realisation crawled its way into my addled mind, snapping me out of my haze.
Oh my god… What am I doing?
“Hello, Mr. Sere,” I said in a rush, my cheeks warming as I finally shook his hand. “I’m Kedi Lapin. A pleasure to meet you.”
I cringed internally as his lips quirked up. I had literally been just holding his hand. Amusement was all over his face. Very handsome face, might I add.
“The pleasure is all mine. How’s National Doughnut Day treating you?”
His tone was devoid of any teasing despite my blunder, though I was sure he was just sparing me. My lips twitched but I repressed the urge to make a nervous dough-not-well joke.
“I think it might be treating you better, Mr. Sere. The fair is a huge success.”
Yes. That was good. Professional. Not screaming ‘I’m embarrassed’ in the slightest.
He hummed as he considered that statement, his head cocking to look beyond me. Then returned his attention to me with a warm smile.
“Well, what do you have for me, Miss Lapin?”
Subtly wiping the sweat from my palms on my apron, I walked around to stand behind my stall and pointed to each flavour. “The pink ones have a raspberry jelly filling. All natural flavouring and colouring. The brown ones in the middle have chocolate pudding, and the plain ones are filled with vanilla cream. Please, feel free to take a few samples.”
Macan popped a sample in his mouth, his brows rising slowly. “Mm, no wonder your stall smells so good. That is delectable,” he said with genuine interest.
My lips curled up, spine straightening with pride. “Thank you, Mr. Sere. Though I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended by how surprised you sound.”
His head tipped back with a laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his sharp jaw. Now that there was some distance between us, I could apparently function like a normal human being.
Hallelujah.
“Seems my manners are off once again,” he said, returning my grin. My eyes followed his where they slid to the untouched trays of doughnuts. “I guess you could say I’m surprised there isn’t a line forming.”
I sighed melodramatically. “Maybe someone set me up.”
“Hmm, sounds entirely plausible.” He eyed the other stalls with mock suspicion. “Maybe someone wants to keep your talents all to themselves. It would be devastating to their business if they couldn’t sign a contract with you first. Say, a particular organiser.”
“Maybe.” I squinted my eyes. “It’s not you, is it? Because I have a dozen doughnuts already packed and ready to be devoured in the comfort of an office. Say, over a contract.”
“Seems like a trap. I’m not going to find myself fattened up and in your oven, am I?”
I placed my hand on my heart with my pointer and middle finger crossed. “I’m entirely innocent.”
His smile broadened as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “So you say, Miss Lapin.”
There was a calming yet exciting energy he exuded and I found myself captivated by it. My eyes caught on his full lips before I returned my attention to the spread on my stall, my smile faltering. It was going to be a damn waste with how things were going.
“They look as delightful as they taste,” he said with an apologetic smile, as if he could sense my disappointment. “Did you make them yourself?”
“Sure did. It’s just me in a little cottage outside town, so I was hoping to get my name out there today.”
“Yes, it’s a shame you haven’t gotten so much as a card.”
“You’ve been watching me?” I blurted out.
Heat rushed back to my face the moment the words left my mouth. I hadn’t meant to imply he was a creep.
“I... I mean—”
He chuckled, most likely at the sight of the panicking red tomato before him.
“I care for all my clients and workers. It’s my responsibility, Miss Lapin. I am the organiser, after all.”
“Right...”
I take it back. This is not going well.
“Why don’t we talk privately over tea? Or say, over a contract.” He winked. “Come with me.”
Before I could say anything, he turned around and strode off. Yanking off the apron, I grabbed my purse, the box of doughnuts, and followed without thinking, jogging a little to catch up.
I hadn’t considered such a big client would actually be interested. My stomach flipped with excitement at the prospect of doing business with him. This was an opportunity I could not afford to mess up.
To be truthful, there was plenty more I could not afford after investing all I had into my bakery. Like new curtains or a half-decent mattress. Selling baked goods from a secluded cottage was not the most accessible of businesses either, so I had been stuck with online orders only.
A glimpse of my reflection caught my eye as we passed a window, and I suddenly wished I had worn something more business-appropriate, or at least a bra. I was down to the last of my clothes, and black would’ve shown through the thin white fabric of my dress. In hindsight, the size of the laundry pile was a fair warning I had missed while slaving over the doughnuts.
Macan led me into a room with a large desk and one modest-sized coffee table with two leather chairs on opposite sides of it. The room smelled like him. I took another greedy breath, trying to slow my quickening heartbeat.
“Sit,” he offered, well... ordered, gesturing to one of the chairs.
Lost in the elegance of the space, I did as told. The room was covered in beige, grey, and black, with accents of rich green. I barely noticed he had taken the seat across from me until someone entered and set a tray on the table. Our eyes clashed with the clink of ceramics on the glass surface.
…Was he just watching me the entire time?
“Anything else, Mr. Sere?”
Macan’s eyes did a quick sweep over me. “Yes, please take the doughnuts from Miss Lapin.”
The assistant looked nervous as I handed him the box. He left the room in a hurry, which was already strange. But what really weirded me out was the sudden shift in atmosphere the moment we had stepped into this room. Or maybe I was reading into it because this had become a job opportunity and we were in a professional setting.
Alright, definitely no doughnut puns then.
“Tea, Miss Lapin?” Macan offered, not an order this time.
“Kedi. Just Kedi is fine.” I smiled, trying to look somewhat composed, though I was probably failing.
He glanced through his lashes as he started pouring from the teapot. “I don’t think I’ve heard your name before. Is there a meaning behind it?”
“I was told it’s a twist on ‘Katie’. Kedi apparently means ‘cat’ in Turkish. It’s originally pronounced without a diphthong but since the two mixed, it became ‘Kay-Dee’.”
A teasing smile formed on his lips. “I guess we can skip the ‘what’s your favourite animal’ part of our introduction.”
I almost rolled my eyes. I had heard it all by now. People urging me to be a cat for Halloween, friends pointing to their cat’s litter box when I asked for the bathroom, kids meowing at me. At least he was original.
“I’m impressed you got the pronunciation right on the first try. Usually it confuses people.”
He studied me for a moment. There was something about him I could not quite put my finger on. I forced myself to not fumble with my hands as the seconds ticked by.
“This may sound strange,” I continued to fill the awkward silence, “but I love the fragrance you’re wearing. May I ask what it is?”
Macan handed me a cup instead of answering.
The cup rattled a little against the saucer as I took it, giving away my nervousness. There was a small pitcher of brownish-yellow liquid next to the teapot. I picked it up. Apple juice? Now that was a pleasant surprise.
I poured a generous amount into my tea before looking up. Macan had leaned back, watching with what I assumed to be curiosity.
I couldn’t help a smile. “I know, it’s quite unusual. I was experimenting with flavour profiles for a tea-infused cake once, and I got hooked when I discovered this. I’ve never met someone who does the same.”
I offered him the pitcher.
“Thank you, Kedi, but I don’t drink apple juice.”
Oh.
I set the pitcher down.
If it’s not for him to use, then why is it here?
I tried not to sound accusatory. “You know how I take my tea?”
His brows briefly narrowed in confusion before he smiled. “Of course not,” he said, gesturing at the empty cup on the tray I had missed. Blood rushed to my cheeks. “I’m prepared for clients with children. But I’m glad it serves you too.”
The way I wished the floor would split open and take me away was probably written on my face. There was something seriously wrong with me.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and gestured for me to drink. “Please. Enjoy yourself while I explain why I brought you here. I’ve been looking for—” he paused, clearing his throat, taking a quick sip of the tea.
No more true-crime shows for me next week. Or perhaps for the next year.
“—for someone with your talents for an upcoming event.”
Right.
I listened intently as he listed off pastries. Things I could bake with my eyes closed by now. But honestly, anything would do at this point. I needed a job, and I needed to impress him. I would bake the hell out of whatever he wanted. He grabbed a folder to show me something—probably a colour palette—and began flipping through it.
I relaxed despite myself after a while, my nerves soothed by the warmth of the tea. His teeth sank into the plump flesh of his bottom lip once, my eyes drawn to the action. He had a jaw so sharp I could probably cut fondant with it. Thick copper-brown waves of hair framed his face. The tan of his skin and thick eyebrows made his eyes stand out even more.
They met me. Those piercing eyes. He looked a few years older than me. The folder closed and a stack of paper appeared before me. He cleared his throat as he took off his jacket. And oh dear god, started to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt to reveal the thick muscles of his forearms.
I let my eyes wander because why the hell not? They were enjoying the view. I bit my lip. He clearly liked working out, the rest of his muscles apparent through his shirt.
What an odd name as well, ‘May-kun’.
He was talking to me. Or maybe not. I couldn’t tell. Shouldn’t I be able to tell? His lips moved but I could not make out what he was saying. Something about my portfolio and a contract. I tried to focus. His lips were moving again but there was no sound. A heaviness washed over me.
I frowned, shaking my head lightly.
“How do you feel, Kedi?”
The voice sounded distant. I tried to answer but I couldn’t speak. The cup in my hand was getting heavy. My heart started beating faster. I managed to let out a single, struggling sound, frustrated at my uncooperative body.
Macan stood and then knelt before me, taking the cup from my hands before I dropped it. “Easy now. It’s alright.”
He lifted my chin but he wasn’t smiling anymore. Why not? Did he not like my portfolio? The room started to tilt as my lids grew heavier and heavier. Something dark flickered in his eyes as my head fell backwards.
And my vision went black.
