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Those finales had always been Everly’s favorite part of the series. Getting to watch people make their dreams come true or reach what they thought were impossible goals or see themselves in ways they never thought they could was pure magic. Sometimes the best episodes were the ones with the most modest endings. Like Nelly, the freshman in college who just wanted to find a style she loved and felt good in and ended up looking like she belonged in an early Taylor Swift video, all fall vibes and country comfortable. The way she (and Becca and Everly) had sobbed when she went to her first sorority pledge event and everyone lost their minds over her new look was etched right into Everly’s heart.
She cleared her throat. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot about this. I don’t have big dreams or anything like some of the other guests, but there’s this art festival, the Cape Cod Collective, and I was supposed to do it a few years ago, but… it didn’t end up happening.” She wasn’t ready to admit to this person she admired that she’d quit. Or the many reasons why. “Maybe this would be a good opportunity to try again?” Though she tried to keep her voice steady, she could feel herself stumble over the words. Why was this so hard? She wasn’t asking for that much. The exposure for the Collective alone would be enough for them to give the show a booth. It wouldn’t be a hard sell, even with the event just over three months away in December.
Logan seemed to note her hesitation. His gaze flicked from the tabletto her face, those halting blue eyes prying at her. She tried to stare back, but ended up making intense eye contact with his left earlobe.
Sady’s smart pen flew across the bottom of the screen. “I love that idea. I’ll have our PR person get in touch with the festival immediately.”
Everly leaned over the desk. “What else do you have on that list?”
Sady flapped one hand at her and angled the tablet away with the other. “You’ll find out soon enough. We need some surprises. They make good TV.” She arched an eyebrow over the top of her glasses. “But what else do youwantto be on the list?”
“Getting a tattoo. One I design myself.” The words flew out of Everly’s mouth. It was the first time she’d spoken them, and her heart fluttered at their strange shape on her tongue.
She was fascinated by tattoos. She loved scrolling through ink hashtags on social media, seeing the unique ways people expressed themselves, reading about the meaning behind them. She often lay in bed at night imagining the kinds of sketches she might design for herself, for Becca, for people at work.
But it had always seemed too silly to admit to anyone (even Becca) when Everly didn’t have any tattoos of her own and had never actively shown an interest in them. At least not out loud.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “You’re into tattoos?”
“I don’t have any yet, but they’re one of my favorite art forms.” Everly wrung her hands together in her lap. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Could this be part of herOTPSjourney? A tattoo? Maybe even designing some samples for the Collective that people could buy?
Sady shoved her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose. They changed the shape of her face, highlighting the incline of her cheekbones and accentuating her hazel eyes. It made Everly regret preferring her contacts to her own cat-eye glasses, which she’d once thought were so cool and retro and now worried were too much.
Too loud.
“Tell me more,” Sady said.
Everly pursed her lips, shuffling through words in her head to find the right ones. “I love how bold they are. The way you can’t help but notice them. They’re unabashed and loud and the people who get them are usually proud of that.” She ran her finger along the side of her left forearm, where she always imagined her first tattoo would go. “And I love how they all mean something. The most mundane heart or butterfly or whatever has a story when it’s on someone’s skin, even if that story was, ‘I got a little too drunk’ or ‘I lost a bet.’” Tattoos were a kind of memorial: they remained when everything else—the moment, the feelings, the people—were gone.
Sady shifted to face Logan full on, wiggling her fingers. Her mouth moved like she was trying to remember something. “You have that friend… that artist guy…”
“Goro?”
“You know Goro Adachi?!” Everly gaped at Logan. “His stuff isstunning.”
Sady nodded, like this was scripted and they were reading their lines perfectly. “Maybe he can do Everly’s tattoo? Help her design it? That could make for some great footage.”
Logan shrugged. “I can ask.”
Everly’s gaze bounced between them. Were they delusional? She couldn’t collaborate with one of the world’s premier tattoo artists. “Um. Maybe we could wade into the kiddie pool first? I’ve never designed a tattoo. I don’t even have one. Working with Adachi would be like asking a kindergartener with some new finger paints to join Jackson Pollock in a session, don’t you think?”
Sady’s eyes narrowed, but Logan cracked an actual, legitimate smile. And it was a good one. “Pollock’s stuff looks like finger paints anyway.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize you were an art expert.” She sounded more flirty than sarcastic, so Everly rolled her eyes for extra effect. He, of course, didn’t even blink in response.
Sady kept writing and talking as if they hadn’t said anything. “Jazzy wants to take you to Kisses and Hugs, too. She thinks they’re a perfect label for you, and they recently opened a new boutique on Newbury Street.”
Everly’s fingers squeezed the hem of her dress. She shopped thrift stores, sales, and clearance exclusively, and, even then, often with coupons. She’d never stepped foot into a high-end fashion boutique before. “Wow, their stuff’s…” She didn’t know how to finish her sentence without sounding like she was worried about money.
“The show covers everything, so price isn’t an issue.” Sady glanced at Everly over the rim of her glasses. “I like that this makes you a little uncomfortable, though.”
“Oh?” Everly’s stomach cramped at her tone.
“The best TV happens outside your comfort zone.”
“And the biggest disasters,” Everly muttered.
Sady gave her a wink from behind her glasses. “Well,” she grinned, “that’s also good TV.”
