"So," I started as I fingered her hair. Although her long locks appeared natural, one slide of my hand told me she wore extensions. Not uncommon to come across and not a massive deal if done correctly. Luckily, Mila's extensions were high quality and expertly sewn.
"Wow! Your extensions are amazing," I gushed. "They blend in seamlessly with your natural hair."
"It's Mane Plan. They're amazing."
"Oh, yeah, I've heard of them. Their quality is top-notch, and I can tell yours has been sewn in evenly. Is it two rows?"
"Yes, here and here," she indicated. "My natural hair is shoulder length, and I had a Botox treatment in it about three weeks ago to get rid of any frizz."
I nodded. "And how often do you wash your hair?"
"Maybe once every two weeks. I like to have my natural oils grow in as much as possible. But I did have a wash and soft blowout about a week ago."
"Okay, that's fine. How do you usually wear your hair to functions?"
She shrugged one slim shoulder. "Straight and down. My extensions are low maintenance and do well with heat."
Relief blossomed that she didn't want anything overly complicated. It shouldn't take too long to do. "Shall we just stick to that, then? How do you feel about some soft curls?"
"Perfect, yes." She grabbed her phone and opened up her social media. With any luck, Mila might start documenting her glam right now.
Linda quickly gathered the equipment we needed, knowing wordlessly that she would handle the hair side of things.
"And for makeup, what are we thinking?"
"Honestly, I'm so used to wearing thick makeup for work, so something more natural but with a little bit of shimmer would be nice."
I framed her face and considered her flawless, dark brown skin. She had soulful, big eyes; thick eyebrows that I was dying to get my hands on; and naturally long lashes. Coupled with her full lips, I could see why she was a hot commodity in her industry. "Are you wearing anything right now?"
"Only a little mascara."
"And your skincare regime? Are you allergic to anything?"
After running through her everyday beauty routine I convinced her to let me do a hydrating sheet mask. It would add fifteen minutes to our time, but I could see that a day of traveling dried her skin out a little, and I didn't want to miss any steps with such an important client.
Once we removed the mask from her face, I got busy prepping her skin. "You have beautiful brown eyes, and your skin is glowing and even. Let's lean into that with a smokey smudged eye and a neutral eye palette with gold shimmer."
After getting her consent, I quickly started. Her brows were full and thick, so I decided to be bold and do them in the current laminated trend. They suited her so well that she gushed at how amazing they looked, and promptly took close-up photos of them.
As I blended colors to match her skin tone, Mila suddenly asked, "Do you know Eden?"
I paused for a second, my mind blanking at what to answer. Of course I knew Eden, but I didn'tknowher. In fact, Eden probably didn't have much of an opinion of me, even though we rarely interacted. Eden and I had history, but it was via Lissa.
Whenever Lissa caused problems, I was always by her side in silent but not always agreeable support. I often urged Lissa to let her one-sided issues with Eden and Barron go, but the bitch was too stubborn to walk away with her pride semi-attached.
I never had a problem with Eden. She was quite sweet—too sweet to handle a friendship with me and vice versa. At least back then.
"I went to school with her, but we mixed with different crowds," I diplomatically answered. "Then she moved to New York straight after high school. She's a lovely person, though." I added.
Mila smiled fondly, her affection for Eden clear on her face. "Yeah, E's the best. I miss her since she's moved. She used to hostReal Housewives of New Yorkpremiere parties at her apartment. Now she lives here. In this...cute town."
I stifled a laugh at her careful words. I'm sure she was aghast that someone as worldly as Eden decided to move back to New Haven, where the most exciting thing we had was our annual summer fair.
After Mila's makeup was completed and her hair straightened and styled, she dashed off to my office to change.
My jaw dropped in awe when she finally emerged, looking every bit the gorgeous supermodel she was. She wore stylish, wide-leg black pants and a tiny, gold-cropped top that displayed her muscle-toned stomach. It was a simple outfit, but on her, it looked stunning.
"Do you mind taking a picture of my fit?" she asked, handing us her phone.
