Page 56 of An Overdue Match
He clicked on another article and read some more. The band across his chest lightened. Beyond the loss of hair, it didn’t seem that alopecia came with a host of other symptoms.
There also wasn’t currently a cure.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tai said out loud even though there wasn’t another soul with him at the shop. He stopped himself from uttering the wordsit’s just hairbecause he realized it wasn’tjusthair. So much more was affected by the loss. Self-esteem, confidence, belonging, image, and probably a lot more that he couldn’t even begin to think of.
He put his phone down and picked up a sketchpad and set of charcoal pencils. His fingers had been itching to draw ever since he’d left the library, his mind going over and over every detail of Evangeline’s face. The curve of her brow and how it would look without the temporary tattoo’s painted lines. Theradiance of her eyes and the details of the different shades of green in her irises that would shine even without the frame of lashes. The contours and elegant lines of her head and neck if she were to go without her wig. He could see it in his mind’s eye, and he had an insatiable need to get the stunning image onto paper.
His phone vibrated again, this time his calendar alerting him that there was ten minutes before his appointment arrived. He needed to make sure his equipment was ready to go.
The front door opened, a familiar voice drifting to the back of the shop. “I can’t believe you’re getting a tattoo, Penelope.”
Just hearing the lilt with which Evangeline spoke caused a reaction in his bloodstream. Equal parts thrill for the adventure before him and a sense of settling in. It was like running a river in his kayak for the first time. He never really knew what lay around the next bend, but he also never felt more alive or that he was where he belonged.
“Oh, don’t get judgmental on me, Evangeline. And don’t pretend you don’t like tattoos. I saw the way you salivated at Tai’s ink back at the library.”
“Shh. He might hear you.”
“So what? I saw the way he looked at you too. What’s the problem?”
“You know what the problem is.”
“Evangeline—”
“Let’s not get into it now. Tai could come out from the back somewhere at any moment.”
Now he’d need to wait a few minutes so the ladies wouldn’t suspect he’d overheard their conversation.
“Oh, wow. Look at these drawings. Do you think Tai’s the artist?”
He pictured them in front of the wall where he’d hungframed pieces he’d done of local history. A Cherokee chief. A war-battered Confederate soldier. An eighteenth-century Scots-Irish immigrant. He’d practiced art in multiple mediums and a variety of styles, but he particularly loved the details and emotions evoked in the human face.
“I’ve never seen any of his work, but I imagine so.”
“You’ve never seen his work? Evangeline, you need to look up his social media account. That man is super talented. It’s why I chose to get my tattoo here instead of from one of the artists in Chattanooga. His realism will take your breath away.”
Tai figured it was as good a time as any to make his presence known. He slipped his hands inside his pants pockets and stepped around the wall separating the reception area from his workstation.
“Evening, ladies.”
Evangeline spun around first, a splash of pink highlighting her cheeks.
“I’m not sure why I didn’t put two and two together earlier,” he said to Penelope.
“I was thinking the same thing. Although, in my defense, your social media accounts are under the shop name and the only photos are of your work. Not a selfie among the lot.”
Tai hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You want to come on back and we can get started?”
The women trailed him as he did an about-face and made his way back to his workstation. He patted the adjustable black leather chair that he’d set up to lie flat. Penelope had said she’d wanted her tattoo on her hip, so she’d need to lie on her back for the session. “Climb on up.”
While Penelope got situated, Tai dragged a rolling chair from across the room and set it on the opposite side from where he’d be working. “Go ahead and have a seat, Angel.”
“Angel?” Penelope asked, her voice curious and a little shocked.
“A nickname,” Tai supplied.
“I figured as much. Also, very interesting.”
“Not that interesting,” Evangeline argued. She looked around the shop, eyes wide. There was a pretty good chance this was the first time she’d stepped foot in a tattoo parlor. She probably had some preconceived notions of what the interior would look like, but by the look on her face, Inked by Design was nothing like she’d expected.
