“It’s actually only four, but with the blending and stuff, it gives an ombre appearance,” she replies, closing her eyes and lifting her perfectly manicured brows, pointing to different colors with her fingertip. “The black is called naughty minx, the brown is called melted chocolate syrup, the green is called morning wood, and the beige is called cream pie—” She cuts herself off with a gasp, opening her eyes wide and looking at my face in horror. My nostrils are flared, trying hard not to laugh, when her face flames.
I pull my lips in between my teeth, the hair beneath my bottom lip touching my mustache I bite down so hard, but I’m sure she sees the hilarity in my eyes.
“Who the hell names eyeshadow colors after such dirty shit! No wonder there were so many laughing emojis on my live video! I thought I had like… a booger or something,” she exclaims.
And theeere’s my girl. Every day, it’s the same thing. Tension until she finally relaxes enough for the real Astrid to break through and take over like the Incredible Hulk bursting out of the quiet and timid Bruce Banner.
I finally let go, laughing my ass off as she shakes her head and allows herself to giggle, pressing her fingertips to her lips as her eyes twinkle.
“I’m surprised it took you that long to catch on to the names. You usually never miss an opportunity to throw out a ‘that’s what she said,’” I tell her with a grin.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Must’ve been too excited to play with all the new colors. Plus, I always get awkward on live videos anyway. It’s weird to talk to yourself out loud, even seeing I have like two or three hundred people watching what I’m doing.”
My eyes widen at that. “Your numbers are up.”
She shakes her head once more. “Just since yesterday. They’re promoting this new pallet like crazy, and then add in the sale and I got like four hundred new followers in my private makeup group on Facebook overnight. That’s why I did the live video. Thought it’d be smart to take advantage.”
“Very smart.” I nod. “You really have a good mind for all this. And so extremely talented. You’re breathtaking without all of it. I tell you that every day. But I look at it as… a form of art. Your makeup is your paint and your face is your canvas. You are an artist.”
She blushes. “I mean, they are called makeup artists. But I was never formally trained. Just watched hours and hours of makeup tutorials on YouTube when I wasn’t allowed to….”
Before she can go to that dark place, where she’ll spend hours unable to come out of the hole inside her mind, in which she’s still trapped inside her California home she lived in with her ex, I speak up, pulling her out of it. “I mean, yours looks just as good if not better than the ones formally trained. But if you really wanted to go to school for it…”
Her eyes lift to mine with a mix of surprise and longing.
“…we could make that happen, goddess,” I finish, my voice soft, trying not to scare her out of the idea. So many times I’ve offered such things. But every time, she tells me—
“Soon. Maybe. Whenever I have enough money saved.”
And as always, I reply, “You don’t have to wait. Just like my offer to pay for lessons so you can get back into your dance classes, you can go now, Astrid. There’s nothing stopping you.”
There’s a spark in her eyes. The one she gets when she finally allows herself to argue with me. “And as I told you, Neil, I don’t want to owe you anything. I know I live here in your home rent-free, since you won’t accept any of the payments I’ve tried to give you. But I do what I can to feel like I earn my keep. This house stays pristine, I cook breakfast and dinner and meal prep your lunches, and Scout boy is living his best life with nonstop attention—”
The sudden loud skid of my stool being pushed back as I stand cuts off her words and her eyes widen as she braces herself. I come around the island, my movements fluid, careful not to approach her too fast as not to scare her. But approach her, I do, and I get as close as I can without