Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Chamomile
Dominic
“So a tramp stamp?” Rick muses at me, and while his tone indicates he’s joking, his face is deadly serious as he cleans and sets up his tattoo station for Celeste.
Rick graciously cleared an afternoon even though he’s booked solid months in advance.
Celeste is due to arrive any minute now and knowing she hates being late for anything, I guess she’ll be through the door in a matter of seconds.
“If you keep joking like that, I’m going to let Vic tattoo my face on your ass,” I parry back. Having Celeste come into this space makes me practically vibrate with anticipation. Since the second I met her, I knew she was one of those people that could light up even the darkest of rooms.
“What’s up with you? You’re all jittery like an iPad kid jacked up on pixie sticks,” Nadine says, rounding Rick’s station before settling into her own work station.
“Nothing, nothing.” I brush her off and ignore her quizzical stare. My legs move of their own accord and I begin pacing the parlour, taking in all the details.
I look over the black-and-white checkered floor, emerald-green walls and beautiful artwork displayed with gallery lighting.
Rick and Vic put in so much effort and love into Deathless Pigment and it shows.
Patrons drive miles upon miles to get tattooed here.
The atmosphere is dark and moody yet contemporary and clean.
If the vibe wasn’t enough, the tattoos are certainly some of the best artwork I’ve seen across the country.
As the power couple gained notoriety from social media, they had new artists flock to them to start apprenticeships.
With a waiting list a mile long, I managed to get Celeste in for her tattoo simply because, as Vic told me over our weekly dinner, I was family.
“You’re really antsy in your pantsy, aren’t you, Dom?” Nadine smirks up at me from her design that she’s preparing for her next client while also clearly gleeful at my anxiety.
“Look at him, he can’t stand still. The boy’s boots backwards for this bird,” Olly taunts me in his Geordie accent, standing tall over Nadine’s deep brown shoulder as she puts the finishing touches on her piece.
I smirk as she flips her bright turquoise braids into Olly’s face as he tries to point out something in her sketch.
She looks back at me and winks, “It’s alright baby face, we won’t embarrass you in front of her. Right, Oliver?” She turns to Olly pointedly.
“I know you’ll all be on your best behaviour. She must be important to Dom if he brought her here to meet the family,” Victoria cuts in, carrying boxes through to the front for restock.
“Exactly, and Celeste…” I start.
Ding.
The chime of the door cuts me off and I spin towards it, eyes locking on Celeste.
Words malfunction in my brain as I take her in.
She stands warily, fidgeting with the rings on her right hand while flattening down the hem of her white baby doll dress with the other.
Her honey blonde hair drapes over her shoulder in a loose braid, a few pieces pulled free and curling slightly around her chin and neck.
A smile pulls her plump pink lips upward, but her bright blue eyes give her away. She’s nervous. She’s nervous.
My heart expands with a fuzzy warm feeling as I see this woman, who always walks with a confident stride, standing nervously waiting to meet people I consider family. Or maybe I made that all up in my fat head and she’s just nervous about getting her first tattoo.
Duh, Dom, you idiot.
I clear my throat and move toward her on instinct. As I get closer, she audibly releases a breath, her shoulders falling from their tense position. I give her a reassuring smile as I take her hand in mine and lead her to meet my people.
“Stunning as always, Hoot,” I manage to say quietly without my voice wavering or any of these heathens overhearing.
I’m trying to maintain nonchalance even though what I want to tell her is how her beauty leaves me a little speechless.
I watch as my words land, her shoulders pushing back and her cute pointy chin raising a fraction.
There she is. One compliment, though as honest as ever, giving her the push she needs to walk back into her confident stride.
Celeste looks past me and promptly introduces herself, hand extended, ready to meet and mingle.
She is such a bright beacon that all parties begin chatting away like old acquaintances catching up.
Nadine is showing her the sketch she’d been working on while Olly runs off to his station to grab his own.
Rick sits at his station showing her his stencil with her nodding approvingly, and then there is Vic, looking at me.
Victoria is our matriarch, and for some reason this approval feels heavy.
She regards me with a warm and knowing smile, then glances over to Celeste.
This girl is special. This girl means something to me and to have her fit so well with the rest of the few people I care for, it truly means the world.
Vic looks at me pointedly now, like I’m missing something. At first, I don’t understand. I do a double take around the room, meeting Celeste’s gaze briefly before she turns back to her discussion with Rick. Little bubbles of joy burst in my gut. Then everything clicks. I know it. Vic knows it.
The realization is like a bolt of lightening but then like honey, slow and sweet, this whole time I’ve been undoubtedly falling for Celeste June Pinkfordt. And I’m her goddamn matchmaker.
The parlor’s chimes at the arrival of Nadine’s frequent customer, pulling me from my thoughts just as Rick clears his throat and asks Celeste if she’s ready to start.
She glances at me with a question in her eye, as if I’d leave her here alone.
So many emotions flood my system all at once, threatening my knees to buckle.
I steel my nerves at my newest realization and try to focus on how Celeste needs me in this moment.
“Ready whenever you are,” I say.
“You’ll stay?” Celeste asks. I hope I’m not imagining the slight pleading tone in her ask.
“Well there’s nothing more exciting happening, I suppose. I could always go pick up another shift at Biblio & Brew?” I tease. I can’t help it. I’m a man in love.
She laughs and hops on to the sterile but incredibly plush reclined chair, the plastic wrap crinkling beneath her hourglass frame. “Now I know you’re lying. You would never voluntarily take a weekend shift,” she muses.
“All right, where are we getting this?” Rick asks as he pulls his tray of ink cups, machine and ink glide into position. I try to peek at the stencil but he’s strategically covering it with his palm.
Celeste turns and tries to reach for her shoulder blade, “Right here, like where you’d give yourself a pat on the back.” Rick nods his understanding and gestures for her to turn around so he can apply it.
After moving the stencil once and having her double check the final placement in the mirror, to which I’m asked to cover my goddamn eyes, Celeste is laying down and they’re ready to begin.
Rick turns the machine on and the buzzing sound fills me with a sense of comfort.
Celeste’s hand darts out to grab mine, clearly not feeling the same bliss that I am.
The contact is abrupt. I try to hide it but a small smile plays on my lips.
Her hand is warm and soft. I run my thumb over the back of it and swallow down the fizzy feeling in my gut.
I can’t deny that I fucking love holding her hand, but this moment is for me to comfort Celeste as her friend.
The thought is sobering and I refocus on my task of helping Celeste, my friend, through her first tattoo.
I give her a couple gentle squeezes and a reassuring smile as she looks at me with rounded deer in headlight eyes and she bites her lip but keeps her cheek flat to the reclined chair.
I inch a little closer from my position on the ground.
It’s not the comfiest seat in the world but Celeste really wants her tattoo to remain a surprise, so I stay put.
“All set there, Celeste?” Rick asks, waiting for her confirmation.
Celeste takes a deep breath and nods. She winces as Rick does a couple test dots and lines to let her know how it will feel. To my shock, her mouth spreads into a huge grin.
“Oh, this is totally fine!” Celeste exclaims.
Almost two hours later I’m still holding Celeste’s hand.
Her palms are slick with sweat but she’s doing so well for her first tattoo.
She chats easily with Rick around bites of the snacks I brought for her, telling stories about her and Delaney and making the big burly tattoo artist cry with tears of laughter.
I’ve never seen him so jolly, I’m about to start calling him Santa Claus.
Even Nadine and her client have chimed in on the conversation.
I’m so enthralled by her stories, I accidentally poke her in the eye with the straw of her juice box at one point.
I soak in this experience of getting to know her in a new way, like learning she has a scar above her left knee because she fell off a bike in eighth grade.
Every intricate detail I commit to memory.
I long to know everything that makes her smile.