Amusing You - Claire Cullen Page 0,5

dead in the water after all.

Three indistinct bottles in neat packaging arrived first thing Friday morning. The instructions said not to wait more than four hours before trying them and to leave at least thirty minutes between each bottle. They were also numbered one to three, with advice to try them in that order. Simple enough. In the bottles were two small pieces of scented paper glued together. Opening the bottle pulled those pieces apart, which released the scent into the air.

William tried the first one just before starting his morning’s work. The scent was noticeable, but he didn’t feel any different once he’d inhaled it. Following the instructions, he marked the rating scale on the side of the bottle, sealed it, and placed it back in the box it had come in. Then, he got to work.

When his phone beeped an hour later, he silenced the alarm and went to the open window, taking a few deep breaths of the fresh air to clear his senses. Then he tried bottle two. This scent hit him more strongly, and he found his concentration that bit better when he sat down to work. It was nothing like that burst of inspiration from the night before, but hey, maybe he was more of a voice person than a scent one?

He left it another full hour before he tried the third—he had work to complete so he could send it on to Beckett. Taking a break, he got out the last bottle and stared at it. Had they put them in order of how he’d rated the voices? If so, was this the scent of the voice he’d reacted to so strongly the night before? There was only one way to find out.

With a twist, he broke the seal and opened the bottle, inhaling deeply. The scent that hit his nose was heady, and a moan escaped his lips. It was like a drug, reaching down inside him and sending the blood pumping through his veins. He let himself luxuriate in it, feeling alive for the first time in months.

His phone buzzed, and he groaned, checking the email that had arrived in his inbox. He needed to get back to work. Deciding to take advantage of the fact that he was feeling good for once, he plucked his trickiest project from the pile and opened all the files connected to it. The interior had been giving him the most trouble—particularly the transition from the first to the second floor. Nothing he’d tried had worked for the aesthetic his client wanted. Unless…

In a burst of inspiration, he knew exactly what was needed—a mezzanine. He could picture it clearly, complete with a glass wall to maximize the light. A place where people would stand and take in the view. His hand moved furiously across the tablet screen as he sketched, losing himself in his work. The buzz of his phone pulled him from his trance, and he found that over an hour had passed. He stood up and stretched, feeling like he’d woken from a pretty fantastic dream. Except it wasn’t a dream, because the success was tangible—it was right there in front of him.

He checked the instructions on the bottles’ packaging, which led him back to the website he’d logged into the evening before. There, he was asked to rate all three of the scents again. Once that was done, a link appeared with the ID numbers of the second and third bottles. Finally, he would get to see the faces behind his potential matches. He looked at the pictures belonging to bottle two first. Within a matter of seconds, he knew that this wasn’t his muse. He clicked on the last link, his fingers almost trembling with anticipation, prepared to be disappointed.

The sense of shock that hit him was so startling that he pushed back his chair and stood up. It couldn’t be.

His muse wasn’t an anonymous stranger like they’d promised. He knew that face, knew those eyes. They’d met, what, twice? Three times? At Beckett’s engagement party, at the house once, and then the wedding. It had been hate at first sight. So, no. No way. There was no way in hell that his muse was Zac’s eccentric friend Harper.

Chapter Four

Harper sank back onto the couch, cooing to the tearful baby in his arms.

“Don’t cry, Henry. Your daddy will be right back.”

Luca was playing quietly on the floor, not bothered by his brother’s fussing. Harper was the one finding it a struggle.