Chapter 9
Opesha never expected that she would find a job so easily just by casually chatting with him.
Not only did he find a job, but he also skipped the process of being an ordinary employee and was directly promoted to store manager. This is simply a sweet reward after all the hard work.
Although the store looked very shabby and the bottles and jars of powder and perfume displayed on the several wooden display shelves were very simple and could not be compared with those across the street, Opesa was still very happy.
The old man finally took off the black robe, revealing a weathered face. He was an old man with white hair and a long beard. Although he was bent, he could not hide his elegance and indifference.
The old man's name was Paul Simon. Paul briefly introduced her to the perfumes displayed in the store. When he introduced the perfumes that were originally created by him, his gray eyes were full of pride.
Opesa listened attentively and patiently, occasionally taking the powder to smell it, nodding in surprise, her heart full of respect for the old man.
The scents of those powders are either strong or light, just right without being vulgar, innovative yet classic, and more unique than the same old scent you smell at the door of the store across the street.
But why was this store so unpopular? Opesha couldn't figure it out.
She accidentally glanced at a corner, and on the cabinet there, she saw the same bottle of perfumed powder as the one in the basket she was carrying.
"What is this?" Opesa asked.
"This, this is my masterpiece." Paul responded softly. Although it was obviously his masterpiece, the old man's eyes were not brighter than when he mentioned the previous works.
Opesa noticed this keenly.
She remembered Paul saying that the scent of the powder in the basket was exactly the same as the one that was sold out across the street.
She took out a bottle of scented powder from the basket, opened it, poured some and spread it evenly on the back of her hand.
The fragrance of narcissus blended with the green scent of grapefruit penetrates into the nostrils. The top note is quiet and elegant. After slowly spreading, there is a hint of sweetness and less of the powdery feeling. It is soft but extremely attractive.
Opesa also likes to collect perfumes, but those perfumes always have too heavy industrial feel. She always buys handmade perfumes to get a different feeling.
But this bottle of powder is different from any other perfume. There is no identical shadow to it, and people can only remember its uniqueness.
Opesa murmured unconsciously, "What a unique fragrance."
Mr. Paul smiled. "It's a shame it's no longer unique." He looked across the street through the gate, his expression sorrowful. "Its unique value has been stolen. It's lost its soul."
There was a moment of silence between the two. Opesa closed the lid and returned the powder to the basket. "Was it copied by the store across the street?"
Paul didn't answer, but turned to look at her with a sharp gaze: "Madam, do you think there is any difference between these two powders?"
He used two, not two. Opesa could sense that Paul never felt that counterfeit goods could replace his hard work.
The powder evaporates for a while and then enters the middle note, which becomes playful, like fresh strawberries and blueberries crushed and melted into the fragrance, creating a particularly lively and warm atmosphere. Anyone who smells it will feel better.
"Mr. Paul, you can call me Opesha." Opesha sniffed the fragrance on the back of her hand and smiled back. "Although I don't know how to make perfumes, and I'm not a seasoned enthusiast, I still appreciate your trust in allowing me to offer these unskilled reviews in front of you."
She saw the nameplate on the cabinet. "This perfume is called 'First Encounter.' I'm not sure what scene you had in mind when you chose the name, but the top note evokes the youthful innocence of our first meeting. The light fragrance captures the fluttering hearts of the two and the beauty of first love. The middle note is sweeter, reflecting the recollection of the joy of our encounter, so the fruity flavor conveys this sweet and sour longing. However, outsiders don't understand this feeling. They simply perceive it with their noses, without personally adding to the story. The final flavor will be as dry as the uneaten bread in my hand."
She smelled the signature powder scent when she was at the door of the store. It could be said to be similar, but compared to Mr. Paul's version, she could only describe it as an ordinary but nice perfume.
Mr. Paul listened quietly to her speech, his slack expression relaxing. "Haha, I didn't expect to meet a soulmate. What good luck." He nodded approvingly, his gaze landing on the individually displayed perfume. "Yes, it's just as you said. My wife and I opened this shop together. We brought in all these cabinets and tables ourselves. That perfume was blended for my late wife, to commemorate our first meeting, our love, and our partnership. It was originally my original creation, but someone targeted it and accused it of plagiarism—the story even made it to the newspapers. Gradually, it became what it is today. No one comes to my shop, and no one listens to my explanations anymore."
Mr. Paul spoke very slowly, as if discussing an insignificant matter. From beginning to end, he did not reveal a trace of hatred or anger, only his eyes silently expressed his longing for his deceased wife.
The shop is small, but everywhere is filled with evidence of the love between Mr. Paul and his late wife.
The powder evaporates slowly, and the base notes become even more magical, from light to strong. A hint of perfumed lily dilutes the sweetness, like moonlight breaking through the dusk, becoming a witness to their immortal love.
The original creator is criticized and can only humble himself and endure the humiliation to survive, while the plagiarist is openly praised for the profits he has stolen.
After hearing this story, Opesa felt sympathy, but still hesitated. She said, "Mr. Paul, first of all, thank you for your trust. However, I have only met you once, and I am afraid I cannot bear such a heavy responsibility."
She wanted to help Mr. Paul, but she really didn't know anything about it. She had originally planned to find a sales job where she could fish in muddy waters to get information, but now that she had become the store manager, she was really afraid of betraying the old man's trust.
Paul just smiled and said, "No, I believe you. Even if you don't plan to make perfume in the future, you can use this store to do something else."
Opesha raised her eyebrows in surprise: "Sir, you mean..." She can use this store as she pleases?
"You and my wife are very similar. We both have different perspectives on the world. I think you can keep this store alive in a new way." Paul sighed deeply, looking back at the small shop with eyes full of happiness. "My time is running out. This is my little selfish wish, to keep the memory of my wife and I alive here, at the starting point of our love."
"But sir, are you really not feeling uneasy or worried?"
"Yes, but I'm old and don't want to get involved in intrigues anymore. So my only request is that you keep this store alive," Paul said. "So, Miss Opesa, if you're willing, could you please manage this store starting tomorrow?"
Opesha nodded affirmatively: "Of course, it's my honor."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
