“The pleasure was all mine,” replied Kelly. “I have a question for you, though.”
“Shoot.”
“How do you do that ’60s swoopy eyeliner thing?”
Beckett couldn’t believe his no-nonsense boss was asking for makeup tips. Daisy was some kind of wizard casting spells over the people around her. Mr. Hayes, from RB’s, hadn’t been too happy with her at first, but by the time they left the menswear store yesterday, he was her second-biggest fan. Second only to Kelly, apparently.
“I’ll send you a link to my tutorial. Do yourself a favor and buy a liquid eyeliner.”
“I will. I’ve been using the Jamaican castor oil. My lashes are so thick and long I may have to trim them.” Kelly laughed. “I feel so pretty.”
Daisy’s smile split her face. “I’m glad it’s working, and you should feel pretty—you’re an amazing person and you do so much good.”
It didn’t escape Beckett’s attention that Daisy noted personal qualities as the reason for Kelly’s beauty and not her lashes or smooth lips. He’d never thought of Kelly as beautiful, nor had he thought of her as not attractive. He’d never thought of her that way at all. Did every woman want to feel pretty? Probably. The women in the small villages he visited would pierce themselves with bone and wear rustic jewelry. If Daisy made her viewers feel like she’d made Kelly feel, then the secret to her success was obvious.
He didn’t have a second to process his contemplations, because Daisy shoved his phone back into his hand. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him to face the door. Then, she put her palms on his back, the heat from her touch burning right through his shirt, and propelled him out the door. She blew him a saucy kiss and shut the door in his face.
He worked to grab onto one of the thoughts blowing past his head at light speed. The one that finally dropped out of warp speed was that Daisy was a good person. Not just good, she was the best. Kind to a fault, she looked for the finest in people. And the way she complimented Kelly, making Kelly feel like the big star, was selfless. She lived like success and happiness and goodwill were unlimited currencies. He knew better, but he liked that she didn’t. Her humanity was her most attractive quality.
“Hello?” called someone from his phone.
“Hello?” he asked. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he forgot who he was talking to.
“Can you hear me?” asked Kelly.
“Yeah, yeah.” Beckett put his hand on the wall to steady himself as he walked. “What did you need?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you what a great job you’re doing there—we’re all very excited about the results.”
“Yeah—they’re good.” On some level, he was aware that he sounded like an idiot, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it when his mind was befuddled by Daisy’s touch.
“We’re doing a lot of brainstorming here for future projects. I’ll get back to you when we figure it all out.”
“Sounds good.” He dropped onto the couch and turned off the phone. It was a good five minutes before he realized he hadn’t said goodbye.
Beckett was hyper aware of the heat Daisy created with one touch. He could still feel her hands on his skin, and it warmed him all the way to his bare toes. He wasn’t seeing Daisy as a kid sister; she was … more. If he wasn’t careful, he’d leave his heart behind when he left. Because he was leaving. There were projects that needed to be done and people who needed him. He’d chosen his place in the world and he loved it. How many people in the world woke up knowing they were going to make someone’s life infinitely better that day just by showing up to work? FreeWater was his calling, his mission. He couldn’t turn his back on all that. He just couldn’t—not even for someone as brilliant and superb as Daisy.
Chapter Twelve
EveryDayGlam!Beauty Tip
It’s time to switch things up! Most beauty regimes follow this order:
Clean
Exfoliate (twice a week)
Moisturize
Protect with sunscreen
While that may work with store-bought products, when you’re making your own facial cleanser, scrubs, and moisturizer, try switching up the order and exfoliating first to remove the pollutants on the skin that would block cleansers from getting to your pores.
“Welcome to X-Designs! Is there anything I can help you find?”
Daisy gripped her purse straps until her knuckles turned white as the perky salesgirl flaunted her pushed-up breasts at Beckett. She’d aimed her question at him and hadn’t spared a glance at Daisy. The little tramp.
Daisy physically jolted at her thoughts. She wasn’t one to call people names—even in her head. They were in a trendy men’s boutique; of course the woman would talk to Beckett first. He was her target audience.
