“Alright, time to scoot. Don't dawdle."

While talking, she began to retract her hand but Isaac held on tighter. He tugged her hand, bringing her closer.

He looked up, planting a kiss on her Lips.

Intentionally, he wiped away the faint oil stains on her mouth.

With a satisfied smile, he released her, stood, and gracefully wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"I'm out of here."

"Childish," Camila retorted, wiping her Lips.

Yet, happiness radiated from her face.

Post-breakfast, Willie brought in a makeup artist.

Camila remained seated at the vanity.

“I prefer a light touch with makeup," she stated.

Worry creased her brow, fearing the artist might go overboard.

"It'll be subtle. Trust me. I'm a professional," assured the artist.

"You've got a gorgeous canvas. I've got an idea that'll wow you."

"Thank you," replied Camila.

Her eyes sparkled, needing no excessive enhancement. A delicate eyeliner and soft shadow would enhance her natural charm.

This charm wasn't superficial; it was the essence of feminine allure.

Her hair, naturally black and curly, appeared meticulously styled, though it wasn't.

An hour later, her makeup and hair were nearly finished.

The makeup artist admired her reflection, beaming with pride.