It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)(29)

I literally had the urge to remove my little white blouse and taupe pencil skirt and just run naked.

Relaxing spa-like music played in the background while a gentle stream of water trickled from a crack in a wall made of large river rocks. It flowed into a tiny stream that snaked through the room only crossable by tiny wooden bridges or raised stepping-stones. Throughout the space, product stood on large wooden pedestals with shelves carved inside them to hold more products. Couches, Zen-looking coffee and tea bar, hand-carved coffee tables, and a neck massage station made this look more like a getaway in a meadow of peacefulness.

Wow. It was magical. I looked around at the happy women perusing, sampling lotions, and smelling perfumes in small clay bottles. A group of older women sat on moss green stools in the corner and faced a young brunette, who appeared to be showing them how to make homemade avocado masks.

It was really, really cool. Relaxing, serene, beautiful. Like a fairytale rather than a store.

The best part was that there were no photos of “perfect” women that screamed “you’re not good enough.”

Taking my time to let it all soak in, I strolled through the store, inspecting the products. There were no anti-aging cream this-or-thats (because what the hell was wrong or ugly about aging?). There were no complexion-refining foundations either. Instead they were called skin-nourishing foundations “to make your skin as happy as your heart.” Even the dang mascara had a squishy-positive name called flirty lashes for a “flirty mood.” Everything was positive and geared toward being good to yourself or having fun. Not one single message of “you’ve got a defect and we’ll help you fix it.”

“This is just a pilot store to test out our concepts, but do you like it?” Max appeared at my side, wearing his usual expensive faded jeans that made any woman within eyeshot salivate. He also wore a white button-down shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, exposing just enough skin and muscle to trigger instant ovulation.

“Like it?” I replied. “Are you insane? I love it. But…what does the LLL stand for?”

“Lily’s Lovely Lies.” He smiled. “Because if it weren’t for you, I never would have done this.”

“Oh.” So it was his way of saying that everything happened for a reason. Specifically, I had believed some very big lies about him—that he had only used me to debunk the claims that woman made in her book about his disorder.

“Of course, that’s our little secret, between you and me,” Max added. “The marketing campaign has been focused on women telling their husbands that they’re going shopping, but really they’re sneaking off here. To be pampered. We’ll be testing out some other stylistic and marketing concepts over the next few months before launching five new sites.”

“Max, it’s incredible.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting around and drinking in the subtle details—the white lilies painted on the sage green walls, the flow of the floor plan, the soft lighting, and even the natural packaging of the products. He’d turned shopping into more than simply buying products but a secret indulgence. I grabbed a bottle of Heaven Made Your Hands hand cream and flipped it over. Whoa. I leaned toward Max and whispered, “Eighty bucks?”

“Premium product.”

A little disapproval shimmered in my eyes. That was steep.

“We give ten percent of profits to charities who support women,” he added.

“That’s better.”

“Can I show you the rest?” he asked.

Frankly, I’d seen enough. He’d taken my dreams and made it reality. It was simply unbelievable and part of me even felt jealous. I mean, it would’ve taken me a decade to put something like this together on my own. Max had waved his billionaire wand and created a pilot store in less than six months.

However, despite my awe, he and I needed to talk. I’d decided on the way over that what I needed to hear from him was how he really planned for all of this—us—to work out. Yes, I was looking for excuses to say yes instead of no.

“Can we go somewhere private to talk?” I asked.

“Right this way.” He dipped his head and gestured toward a set of stainless steel elevator doors toward the back. That was when it hit me again. This entire store used to be the lobby of Cole Cosmetics. My eyes did another sweep. Truly amazing.

“And your mother is completely out, right?” I asked as we made our way to the elevator bank.

Max’s expression went from proud and smug to positively glowing. “I never have to see her again.”

I could hear the sense of freedom in his voice. His nightmare was finally over.

“I’m so happy for you, Max. Really.”

“Thank you.” He scanned a card on a security pad and the elevator doors slid open. We stepped inside.

“Just like old times.” Max hit the button for the top floor and flashed a mischievous little grin.

We’d once made out in this elevator, and I’d never forget. His lips and hip action had almost made me come in five seconds flat.

I turned to him, wanting to say something, but forgot. He looked so tall and handsome in his jeans and linen shirt, but his messy hair and unshaved jaw really made the goosebumps flourish.

“Yes?” he said.

Keep focused. Must have serious conversation. No sex. No sex. No sex.