Page 10 of The Scent of Happiness

He’d closed the door behind them, but she scooted as close to it as possible and opened it a crack. She needed to clear her head. She was here for a reason and that reason was not to drink in the glorious scent of Theo Chambers. She put the gift basket at her feet.

What was she doing? The last time she’d seen Theo, they’d been teenagers, and now she was acting like a teenager herself. How could she let him scramble her senses like this? She took a few more breaths through her partially closed mouth, trying not to seem like she was panting.

Dear God, he’s making me pant.

This was not good. Not good at all. She needed to get a grip.

“I was quite surprised to get a call from your dad,” Theo said.

“Awkward, I know,” Brooke said.

“Families often get involved in legal disputes. It’s something I see a lot.” Theo punctuated this with a wave of his arm, which sent more of his incredible scent her way.

Brooke put her nose in the crook of her elbow and took in the smell of her sweater, and under that, her own skin. She needed to reset the receptors in her brain before she was completely undone.

“Uh, bless you?” Theo said.

“I didn’t sneeze.” Brooke lowered her arm. “Does that window open?”

“Yes,” Theo said. “Are you too warm?”

“Some fresh air would be great.”

He opened the window halfway. “How’s that? Better?”

“I hope so.” Brooke leaned toward the window and breathed the outdoor air. “Anyway, um, you don’t have to take this on just because our parents know each other. You can say no.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “I’m aware.”

Heat crept up Brooke’s face. Of course he knew that. He didn’t have to take on this—or any—case if he didn’t want to. She hadn’t said one intelligent thing since she’d arrived, and chances were, she wasn’t going to say anything intelligent for this entire meeting. Not fair of Theo to grow up so handsome. Not fair at all. And smelling so good? That was just rude.

Theo picked up a pen. “Why don’t you explain the situation to me, and then we’ll discuss how to proceed.”

Right. This is business. Stay on track, Brooke.

“I make soap,” she said. “Handcrafted, small batch soap. I don’t use things like soybean oil or cheap dyes. This is the good stuff.” She put the gift basket on the desk between them and opened the plastic. The top notes seemed to burst out and float in the air. Now that there was a basket of competing smells between them, Brooke found she could think more clearly.

She lifted the pink bar of Pixie Wings soap, turned it over, and pointed to the label she’d affixed to the paper wrapper. “I use safe, approved ingredients. I keep records. I write down every batch I make. And I label the heck out of my soap. More than I’m required to by law.”

Theo made a note. “I can look into labeling requirements.”

“I already have,” Brooke said. “Every soapmaker knows this. Cosmetics have different standards from soap. I can’t claim any benefits. Like I can’t say it’s anti-aging or it’ll clear up your acne. But as long as it’s plain old soap, I’m not required to label it at all. But I do it anyway, because I want people to know what’s in it.”

Theo turned his eyes up at her without lifting his head, then made another note. “I assume you have product liability insurance?”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Brooke frowned at the paper where Theo was making notes. Insurance? Wasn’t that for people who knew they were making iffy products? She made soap. Pure, wholesome, cleansing soap. What did she need insurance for?

“Dixie Dawson says that one of my soaps gave her a rash,” she explained. “Which it didn’t. She’s just trying to get me to pay her, which I won’t. My mom gave her money for her doctor’s bill, which she thought would make Dixie go away, but it didn’t. Her lawyers sent me this letter.” Brooke handed it to him.

Theo unfolded it and read it, then returned to his legal pad and made another note. His expression never changed.

Brooke sensed that she was losing Theo’s attention, so she started talking faster. “What I’m trying to tell you is that my soap is good, I would never poison anyone, and that letter is bullshit.” She covered her mouth. “Ope, pardon my language.”

Theo handed the letter back. “No, you’re right. That letter is bullshit.”