The Billionaire's Challenge - Final Google

“Tell me how you came up with the ideas you sent to me.” He leaned forward eagerly, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Ah, firmer ground, she thought with a sigh of relief. “Well, I flew out to your corporate headquarters in Denver last fall for a training class and noticed that most of the women there didn’t wear much makeup. They went for more natural colors, but with a little flare. Whereas, when I travel downtown to Washington, D.C., I notice the women wear almost no makeup at all. In New York, the look is all about red lips and lots of color.”

Reid nodded, his dark eyes flashing approval as he continued, “And in the south, Virginia included, the look is softer, more feminine. And they wear more makeup.”

“Exactly! So I thought about how to market to not just the different areas of the country, but also the various groups of women. Such as the suburban mother, who might not put on makeup until the end of the day, if at all, because she’s running around with her children, cleaning the house, or meeting with teachers. Or the working mother who has about five minutes to put on makeup before she has to run out the door so she can drop her kids off at school or day care, then get to that meeting someone obnoxiously scheduled at eight in the morning.”

“I loved your idea about a lower cost line of products for teenagers. Where did that come from?”

Selena smiled briefly, thinking back to the day she’d thought of it. “I was getting my mail one afternoon and my neighbor’s daughter was doing the same thing. We chatted for a moment, but I was so distracted by her eye makeup that I couldn’t tell you what we were discussing. It was awful, clashed terribly with her skin tone, and wasn’t well applied. When we started discussing makeup, she mentioned she borrowed her mother’s makeup but it didn’t really work for her.” Selena shrugged slightly. “Then I thought about luxury car companies. Over the past decade, they started making inexpensive cars, priced for college kids who’d just started their first job. They don’t have a lot of money, but they like the prestige of the brand. The car companies earn the loyalty early on with a quality, lower-cost product, and the consumers understand that there will always be a more expensive car they can exchange for when they get their next raise or promotion.” She shifted slightly in her chair, excited about her idea. “That’s when I came up with the idea of boxing the various products for the individual consumer based off needs. It’s much easier for a busy working mom or a mother with kids to walk up to one of our counters and ask for the ‘box for me’ instead of trying to figure out all of the various items. I figure it will take them five minutes at the counter to figure out their skin tone and colors. From that moment forward, they need only submit something online and the box with colors and makeup is sent directly to them. Although, they don’t have to buy the whole box all the time, just what they run out of. It is a way to up-sell, but with compassion for busy lifestyles.”

He watched her for a long moment. Selena had trouble remaining still under his continued perusal, but finally, he nodded his head. “It’s brilliant, actually. I love the idea.”

Their food arrived and, although though neither of them had taken a moment to glance at the menu, the elderly woman brought out every one of Selena’s favorites.

Downing a huge glass of water, she picked up chopsticks and dug into the curry chicken and basil plate, ignoring the rice completely.

As they ate, he continued to ask questions and she warmed under his genuine appreciation for her ideas. Never had anyone paid her this kind of attention before and it was startling and gratifying.

“Have you had enough to eat?” he asked, glancing at her plate. “You hardly ate anything.”

She looked down as well, noticed that he’d eaten a huge amount of food. She patted her stomach and smiled gratefully. “I’m full. Thank you. You are right, the food here is wonderful.”

He stood up and pulled out his wallet. “Good. Let’s get dessert.”

She shook her head. “No need for dessert,” she told him, thinking she needed to go for a long run in order to release the tension that had only intensified during the meal. Frustration from the almost continuous awareness of him as a man was hitting her hard and fast. A good, long run would ease some of the tension that had built up in her back and shoulders during the meal. While dessert sounded lovely, she knew that she couldn’t manage all that sugar.