Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
But what’s truly amazing is the line snaking around the block—customers waiting for the doors to open in a little over twenty minutes. I’ll let them in, then help them pick makeup to their heart’s content.
“You did all this,” he adds.
“You helped a little bit,” I point out with a smile.
But Nick deflects my compliment with a shake of his head. “All the credit goes to you, my brilliant woman.”
In a short time, Mia and Lola has become one of the most popular makeup brands.
Today for the opening, I’ll do a how-to session, as I often do in my shops around the country. The one I have planned for today is fitting for Miami—how to do beach makeup.
Nick gives me another kiss on the cheek, then whispers, “Go get ‘em.”
I head over, waving and saying hello to the customers that are lined up. Then I go inside. I’m in my element and loving it.
Nick
That evening, she’s glowing as we walk along the beach into the fading sun.
“And I met so many amazing people today,” Layla says, practically bouncing as she talks.
No surprise there. My Layla has always been energized by business.
It’s been such a thrill to watch her build and grow her brand. She’s been telling me all about the session that spilled from the afternoon into the early evening since the lines were that long. I couldn’t stay the whole time. I stepped out to meet with one of my portfolio companies here in Miami, then returned to meet her at the end of the day. That’s how we usually are, heading off to our respective ventures by day, and coming back together at night.
“Tell me more about them,” I say with my hand in hers and the sand under our feet.
But her smile disappears, a serious look in her bright blue eyes. “There was one woman here this afternoon who had a long, jagged scar on her arm,” she says. “She’d been hurt by an ex.”
I growl.
“He’s in prison now,” she says, reassuring.
“Good,” I say.
“And she told me,” she says, stopping for a beat as her voice chokes up, “how she learned to use makeup to conceal it. She watched one of my videos on how to artfully conceal scars. She said it changed her life.”
My heart swells. “I’m so proud of you that you did that series.”
She nods solemnly. “Me too. It’s been one of the best things I’ve ever done at Mia and Lola.”
I admire how she’s used her past pain to help others. She’s turned her trauma around with these videos and used her hurt for good. She says it helps heal her all over again.
So do some of her partnerships too.
Like the one she established a year ago when she partnered up with the tattoo artist who designed her daisy tattoo. They have a deal now where Layla funds tattoos for any woman who’s been through trauma and wants art to cover up a scar or a wound. Layla covers all the costs for the tattoo. It’s been a beautiful project to witness. I could not be prouder of my woman.
And I could not be more ready to take all the next steps with her. After we talk a little more about the day, we head toward the softly lapping waves as the sun dips toward the horizon. I draw a deep inhale of the ocean air, feeling more certain than I ever have about anything, more ready. And so I let her take a step or two ahead of me, our hands slipping apart.
That catches her attention and she turns around, quirking up a brow in question. But I’m faster. I’m down on one knee. “I have an idea for your next how-to video,” I say, emotions welling up in my chest.
Her eyes widen. “You do?”
I reach into my pocket. “What if you do a video on…how to do wedding makeup?” I suggest, as I hold out a velvet box. “Because I would love nothing more in the entire world than to marry you. You are and always have been the absolute love of my life, and I would love if you’d do me the great honor of letting me be your husband.”
She drops down to her knees, cups my cheek, and kisses me, her tears sealing the yes that comes from her lips.
“That sounds like a great idea,” she says.
“The video?” I ask playfully.
She shakes her head. “Marrying you.”