Blog 6- From the Gold Coast Las Vegas.

Before leaving the Gold Coast, I was invited to a friend's wedding. They were from Leeton, but the wedding was in Coffs Harbour. I'd just flown in from Europe the day before— I changed my flights to make it back in time, because they were close friends of mine and I wasn't about to miss an epic reunion with our old crew from Leeton. I got off an international flight after three weeks in Europe, did a quick luggage change, shopped for a dress at Kookai, and drove straight down to Coffs Harbour. Did I mention I was a gypsy?

I arrived at the wedding venue and everyone was pumped to see each other — some of my friends I hadn't seen in over a year. I parked the car and went straight to the bar. We kicked off the celebrations, and in true form, we all got socially excited on the first night. I hadn't booked accommodation; I just figured someone would have a spare bed.

Luke had been eager to see me. We'd known each other for ten years, since I was back at beauty college. I still remember the first time we met. I had a boyfriend at the time and had come to Leeton with a girlfriend from beauty college. We were standing in the street, in front of the Golden Chicken- Leeton's HotSpot eatery,  when he came over to introduce himself. I've heard a lot about you, he said. I could tell straight away he was a player — there was a sleazy undertone, and the way he looked me up and down. He didn't care that I had a boyfriend; he wanted me. We met again at a party that night. He'd hung around until the end, a real bad boy — sexy, cool, rode a Harley, smoked ciggies like it was going out of fashion, and had serious swagger. He'd been with every girl in town and rarely had a serious girlfriend.

I never hooked up with Luke — in fact, I tried hard not to, knowing his history. But that didn't stop him from trying. I spent my weekends going from one party to the next. He was quieter than me, smoked dope, and spent most of his time in his shed with his stoner mates. He'd show up to parties every now and then, but mostly he'd just wait around for me to call needing a ride home. He'd pick me up, drop me home, and I'd jump out of the car with a wave and something cheeky like, "Thought you were going to get some, didn't you."

Luke and I kept talking on and off for years. He always had a thing for me, and I always had a thing for him. I'd visit friends in Leeton when I was on the road for work, and he'd make a point of being there. He'd always wanted to move to the Gold Coast, but tragically lost his dad in a motorbike accident when he was twenty-one. He stayed in Leeton and took over the family business. We eventually hooked up years later, on a weekend back from the Gold Coast — six years later, in fact. The story goes that he chased me for six years until I finally gave in. We spent the night together, and it sparked something we'd both known was there all along.

The weekend of the wedding was wild. Luke had planned on me staying with him, even though we hadn't spoken in a while — he was excited to see me, and everyone knew it. He was a groomsman, and I still remember walking into the venue. His mate Shaun, standing at the altar next to him, gave him a nudge when I walked in. I remember exactly the way he looked at me. I was wearing a black, strapless, bodycon Kookai dress that hugged my figure and dropped just below my knee. I was tall enough already but still wore sky-high heels. My hair was dark and curly, worn out, which I rarely did. 

The wedding was beautiful, and the weekend bender was one to remember — we still laugh about it to this day. Luke left early to go to bed, like he always did. I stayed up until the sun came up, like I always did. By the time I got back to his room, I'd lost my phone, my Mimco handbag, and my undies. No one could remember exactly what happened, but we'd all been swimming in the ocean in the wee hours of the morning, and the ocean had swallowed my phone, my bag, and my undies along with it. For the rest of the weekend, it was everyone else's shout. At least I still had my car keys and could make it back to the Gold Coast on Sunday.

Shortly after leaving the Gold Coast for Melbourne, I was temporarily staying with my brother and his wife, in Essendon. Chris and I are three years apart, and growing up, our relationship had always been unstable. This was the first time we'd spent real time together as adults, and it turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to us. Since then, we've had a great relationship — he supports me fully, and we understand each other on another level. It's the kind of relationship with him I'd always wanted, and I'll be forever grateful for that short stretch of time, because it truly rebuilt what we had.

I didn't last long back in Melbourne, because most of my time was spent travelling back and forth to Leeton to see Luke. I'd organise appointments with salons in Leeton, Griffith, Wagga, and Yarrawonga, showcasing our products and trying to sell equipment.

On one of those trips, I randomly ducked into an old salon in town. It was a total dive — the front windows were covered in black-and-white striped stickers, like a Collingwood footy flag — and the place was filthy. The owner looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. They sold ASAP, a reputable product I loved using, so I decided to visit and try to pitch our equipment. I walked in and asked the woman at the counter if I could buy some ASAP products before going into my sales pitch. Her name was Holly. She told me she was the owner and was actually selling the business, so she didn't have much stock. I instantly became very interested in what she had to offer. It was only six months since losing the Cosmetics Holidays franchise, but there was no holding me back.

The business itself was run like a brothel— cash only, she came and went as she pleased, and the salon was filled with junk, looking like it had never been properly cleaned. Wax was embedded into the walls behind the wax pots, and the sinks and benchtops were stained with tint. But the clientele were loyal, and she was busy — I mean, really busy.

I got to Luke's place filled with excitement after a day out on the road, pulled up out front, and got out of my car with racing stripes, in a tight skirt, crisp white shirt, and heels. He greeted me at the door — a plumber and a hard worker, hands always black, he always looked dishevelled like no one owned him. He smoked like it was going out of fashion and drank a six-pack every night: your typical country Aussie tradie. Most afternoons he'd sit at the kitchen table with his mates, smoking and drinking. Honestly, we were worlds apart, and I don't know what attracted me to him. I'm a sucker for a bad boy!

I told him about the salon and he was stoked. I'd told Holly I was interested, but she had no books to show me, so I asked if I could come and work at the shop for a week to shadow her to get a feel for the place. I started the next day. For the following two weeks, I worked in her salon for free, every day. I watched her run back-to-back clients, take cash for every treatment, and write the amount in her appointment book next to each booking. She'd add it all up at the end of the day and take the cash home. She was rolling in it — no website, no social media and the rent that was outrageously cheap. She'd lock the door whenever she felt like it, come back a few hours later, then leave again at 3pm. I thought to myself: if she can do it, surely I can. That was it — I was going to buy the salon.

I'd been out of the treatment room for a few years by then, so I was nervous about getting back into a salon environment. What if no one liked me here? What if they didn't like my treatments? Imposter syndrome had well and truly kicked in. I called my dad and told him what I was planning. I told him it just needed a rebrand and a fresh coat of paint, and that I was going to kill it. You can probably imagine his response.

He was mortified. I'd just left the Gold Coast because of a failed business — why would I even think about getting into business again? Clearly I wasn't good at it. And why move to Leeton, and who was this boy I'd be living with? I just needed to stay in Melbourne and get a job in a salon to make money. "Dad, I just need to find twenty grand and I'll turn this business into gold. I'll find the money whether you like it or not." I swear they nearly disowned me after that call.

Only I could see the potential in that business. Only I knew what I was capable of. I pitched the idea to Luke, and he thought it was a great opportunity — he always supported my business ideas, no matter how wild or expensive they were. My plan was to buy the business, do it up, and sell it four years later for a profit. Leeton was never where I wanted to be long term. Luke had some spare cash sitting around from his side hustle and fronted me $15,000; I had $5,000 of my own — the last of it. I promised him I'd pay it back within three months.

Without hesitation, I called Holly and told her I was buying the business. I called Rohan and told him I was leaving the company. Their equipment was picked up from Melbourne, I packed up my belongings from my brother's place, and I moved to Leeton to take over my new business — moving straight in with Luke. We spent the next few weekends painting the shop, clearing out the rubbish, and buying furniture. Looking back now, it was the cheapest, ugliest shop fit-out imaginable — we painted the whole thing stark white, and I later added a purple feature wall in one of the treatment rooms. Hideous!!  I changed the name to Exclusive Skin and Beauty.

I hit the ground running, and within three months I'd paid Luke back in full, in cash. I worked 9am to 7pm, five days a week, plus Saturday mornings — back-to-back with clients and absolutely killing it. I'd take home wads of cash daily and stash them in the protein jar beside my bed. I was thirty at the time, and very naive. We'd host parties on the weekends, drinking bottles of Moët with live music in the backyard. I was balling, and we were having the time of our lives. The business kept growing. I'd get home every night at 7pm to Luke and his mates smoking and drinking at our kitchen table, and we'd party every weekend.

Luke and I got engaged in Fiji eighteen months after I moved in, and married within six months of that — in Las Vegas. Not by Elvis; he was sitting out the front of the chapel in a wheelchair, smoking durries, when we arrived, not quite the picture I had imagined!  We stayed at Caesars Palace and were picked up in a limo to take us to the chapel. We'd arrived in Vegas the day before and started the evening at Mr Chow's. A casual dinner quickly turned into a wild night. There was a guy sitting across from us with his entourage who looked like a rapper — a big guy with chains around his neck and people either side of him. The wait staff started bringing us shots of tequila, saying the gentleman had shouted them to us. We raised a glass to him as we knocked them back. We never found out who he was or why he was shouting us drinks — we figured it was because we were young, having fun, and in love.

That put us in a great mood, and the next thing I knew, Luke was being pulled aside near the casino with bags of cocaine getting thrown at him. That kind of thing happened often when we travelled overseas — he must have just looked the type. He scored easily in Miami and Mexico but got stitched up in New York, buying a bag of weed off a homeless man. I told him there was no way there was actually weed in that bag, and as he went to make the purchase , I swayed in the opposite direction to avoide the potential of getting picked up by the NYC Police who were rife in the city. He went ahead and paid $100USD anyway, and when we got back to the apartment, we opened a bag of dirt. I couldn't help but laugh.

After one wild night in Vegas, we were ready to get married. Waiting for the limo, we did shots of tequila, a few lines of cocaine, and a bowl of fries. I wore a silver Ena Pelle leather skirt with a white Silk Laundry top, and Luke wore black jeans and a white T-shirt. The whole wedding thing was never really my vibe — walking down an aisle in a gown, carrying flowers, everyone staring at me. I couldn't think of anything worse. We said our vows, nerve-racking enough in front of the celebrant and the random guy sitting at the back of the chapel posing as our witness. We exchanged rings, vowels, and took photos in Elvis's car that have still never seen the light of day.

After getting married, we popped a bottle of champagne at the Paris hotel, watching the water show at the Bellagio. The night carried on into the early hours. Vegas truly is an adult's playground — we rode a rollercoaster, drank shots out of cucumbers, gambled, and partied the night away. The next morning we flew to Miami and nearly missed our flight, which nearly resulted in divorce on day one. There's nothing more stressful than almost missing a flight. We made it to Miami, then New York, then back to LAX to fly home a few weeks later for our wedding party with family and friends.

In New York, I randomly found a tarot card reader — something I love doing, especially when I'm away. I asked Luke to wait while I saw a psychic. "The man out the front is not the man for you," she told me. "I just married him," I said, in shock. To this day, I've never told him what that psychic said.

Before boarding our flight at LAX back to Australia, I told Luke I was just going to wash my face — I could never sleep in makeup. Lining up to board, I looked down at my finger and realised something was missing. I'd left my ring set in the LAX bathroom while washing my face. I nearly died. I ran back to the bathroom, searching everywhere, with everyone in the toilets helping me look for my new diamond ring set. Incredibly, someone yelled out — "Found it!" What are the odds.