Clive stood back, giving her space. “Why is that?”
“I guess…I don’t want to look foolish. My mom never wore a lot, so I didn’t, either. I don’t know what to do with most of it.”
“Are you open to learning?”
“I can try. I don’t want to look heavily made up. That’s not me.”
“I’d never suggest that. You’re a natural beauty. And, not to be indelicate, but at a certain age, a woman can add years with makeup if she’s not careful.”
She was glad to hear him say that. “I agree. I’ve seen those women.”
“Honey.” He waved a hand through the air. “What I’d like to do with you is some good moisturizer, clean up the brows a bit, then a simple, flattering makeup that won’t take more than a few minutes. How does that sound?”
“It sounds good, actually. I don’t have a great skin care routine, either. Just moisturizer, some eye cream and that’s about it. SPF when I go out.”
“You’re doing the basics and, honestly, that’s all most women need. If you’re not breaking out or having dry or oily patches, what you’re doing is great. Keep doing it.”
She smiled. “What does Lucas do?”
Clive grunted out a breath. “Probably olive oil and lemon juice. Who knows?”
Frankie laughed.
Clive narrowed his eyes. “Slight amendment. I’d like to tint your brows. I think it would make a world of difference and it won’t take long.”
“Tint them? What color?”
He laughed. “Dark brown, the same as they are now. But you’ve got a few grays in them, pesky things, and that takes some of their strength away. Tinting them will take five years off your face.”
“Seriously?” She sat back. “Do it.”
Clive rubbed his hands together. “Just what I like to hear.”
She closed her eyes and let him do his thing, opening them when he asked her to. He showed her a few tricks and tips for easy makeup and when he was done, she felt like she was looking at herself ten years ago.
He’d been right about the brow tinting. Suddenly her eyes seemed bigger and brighter and much more the focus on herface. The mascara and subtle eyeshadow he’d done helped, too, but it wasn’t complicated. She could definitely replicate it.
He’d shown her how to contour her cheekbones, and where to apply blush to lift her whole face. Come to find out, she’d been putting it in the wrong place all these years. A soft, rosy lip color, a few dabs of highlighter—something she already owned but had never used, because who knew where that went—and it was like he’d worked a miracle.
With a big round curling iron, he’d curled the top portion of her hair away from her face, then he’d sprayed it, let it dry, and tousled it with his fingers. It wasn’t something she’d ever have done. Now, she was going to do it all the time.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I love it. I really do. I look younger and more awake. I look…great.”
Clive winked at her. “I started with a fantastic product.”
“You’re very kind. The best part is, I think I can do all of this myself.”
“I know you can. But if you forget something, just email me.”
“Thank you so much.”
The sounds of Beryl and Joyce arriving drifted in.
“Perfect timing,” Frankie said. “Thanks again. You need anything done graphics-wise, you call or email me. I mean it.”
He nodded. “I will.”
