The Scent of Mimosa

When dreams come true

''You came,'' Vince exhaled, looking Cassandra directly in the eye for the first time since her arrival. He had been impatient for the others to leave the boardroom, and they had finally finished their congratulations and goodbyes, finally left them alone together.  

Cassandra's face was still glowing from all the praise. She looked beautiful: radiating confidence and vivacity. As Vince stepped towards her, she became suddenly quiet again, looking anywhere but in his eyes. She didn't look angry to him, though. If he had to guess, he would say that she seemed shy.

''Yes Vincent, I came. I wasn't planning to though,'' she said. ''I didn't think that I would – that I could come. But just yesterday I decided that I had to.''

Vince slid his hands into his pockets and smiled. She had come, that was all that mattered to him. He knew it meant that he had at least a foot in the door in terms of her forgiveness. He could work with that. His cheeks dimpled with mischievousness.

''Sounds like something pretty serious happened to make you change your mind,'' he noted.

''I suppose you could say that,'' she answered with a nod. ''Or you could say that you have my grandmother to thank for my being here today.'' 

Responding to his confused expression, Cassandra sighed, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

''I had this dream you see,'' she began. ''I woke up around midnight the night before last and I could have sworn that my grandmother was sitting right there on the chair next to my bed. She was as clear as day, her hair in the chignon she so often wore, her taupe satin Dior gown, her pearls.'' Vince said nothing but raised an eyebrow.

''Yes, I was as surprised as you are.'' Cassandra told him. ''I don't normally dream about her you see.''

''I see,'' Vince agreed. ''It must have been pretty strange for you, but I still don't understand how that made you decide to come today.'' Now Cassandra looked faintly awkward.

''Well, the thing is... I had set the bottle of perfume you left for me, le soleil de Cassie, that is, on the bedside table that night. I know this sounds crazy, but in my dream, my grandmother was trying it on. I was totally amazed. I didn't know what to think of course. All I could do was ask her why she was doing that?''

Vince was smiling now. The image of Cassandra's grandmother in her evening gown and pearls, trying on perfume and chatting to Cassandra in the middle of the night was really quite amusing.

''And?'' he prompted her.

''She was her usual frank self. She said to me, 'Why wouldn't I want to try it my dear? It really is rather lovely?''' Vince laughed, and Cassandra gave him a sly grin.

''Smart lady your grandmother,'' he commented.

''Yes. Well, I told her that it is totally irrelevant how good the perfume is. It doesn't matter at all. I am not going to produce it, and it is only the rat Vincent who wants me to.''

The smile disappeared from Vince's face rather abruptly. He was ready for her to explain where she was going with this story.

'''What?' my grandmother answered me. 'That good-looking young man, a rat? You could have fooled me. I thought he was rather nice, and he certainly seems to....''' Here, Cassandra broke off quickly and turned her slightly pink face away. ''Anyway, the rest doesn't matter. She convinced me that I should give you another chance, that's all.''

Now Vince was beaming.

''Oh, but the rest does matter Cassandra. What did she say? That I am in love with you?'' he reached forward, encircling her wrist with his hand and pulling her towards him. ''She's not wrong, Cassie. I am entirely, unexpectedly, uncontrollably in love with you. You must have realised that by now.''