Page 147 of The Tryst

“We really need to go,” I say, a little sad.

On a groan, he lets go of me. Then, like it’s a superhuman feat, he pulls away completely and nods resolutely. It’s like he’s re-sorting all his thoughts to clean, business-like ones. “Let’s do this. I can’t wait to see the store,” he says.

“Me either,” I say, absolutely giddy about today.

* * *

Forget giddy.

I’m effervescent when I turn onto the block of the brand new makeup store in this trendy section of South Beach. It’s as if bubbles are flowing through my bloodstream as I gaze at the sign at the end of the block.

Mia and Lola.

I kept Mia’s name—well some of it—and combined it with mine. Now the stores and the brand are Mia and Lola. This shop I’m opening today in Miami will be my eighth location. I’m still kind of amazed every day that I have that many stores to run.

Well, I don’t do it all by myself. Storm is my guy, and I depend on him as my chief operating officer to make all of this magic happen. He’s overseen every aspect of this launch.

But all of this still sometimes feels like a dream.

“Is this real?” I ask Nick, quietly, a little reverently. I’m still in awe of what the man by my side did to make everything happen.

“So real, Layla,” he says with obvious pride in his tone as we stare at the vibrant peach storefront at the end of the block, the store’s name in a sapphire blue.

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.

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