Page 10 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

CHAPTER NINE

The moment the front door closed behind Ali, Jessica sank onto the sofa, suddenly exhausted. What had she been thinking, inviting Ali to dinner with her parents? It was completely out of character and worse, she was blurring boundaries that should remain crisp and clear.

And yet, the thought of facing her mother’s scrutiny, her father’s quiet assessment, and the inevitable awkwardness of Vikram Patel’s presence without a single ally in the room had been too daunting to bear.

At least Ali would provide a buffer of sorts.

A reason to redirect conversation when it ventured into uncomfortable territory.

Mr. Darcy jumped onto the sofa beside her, butting his head against her hand. Jessica, without thinking, obliged with absent strokes, still lost in thought.

There was something unsettling about Ali Ritchie. The woman was so... herself, genuine, uninhibited, unafraid to occupy space in a way Jessica had never allowed herself to be. It was irritating and, even worse, intriguingly compelling.

In board rooms and client meetings, Jessica knew exactly who she was: an investment guru, focused, efficient, and always three steps ahead.

But here, in this house with these creatures and that woman with her unmatched socks and easy humor, Jessica experienced an unfamiliar draw.

Like Scout perched on the refrigerator, part of her wanted to observe from a safe distance, maintaining the careful control she’d cultivated since childhood.

And yet another part of her longed to jump down, to risk a closer connection.

More unsettling still was how easily conversation had flowed between them today. Jessica wasn’t one for personal disclosures, yet she’d found herself discussing areas of her life with an openness she rarely displayed. And Ali had listened with apparent genuine interest, asking thoughtful questions.

Jessica had always treated personal information like currency, spending it sparingly and only when necessary. She’d learned early from watching her parents in their professional circles—show competence, never weakness; share accomplishments, never doubts.

A soft thump drew her attention to the kitchen doorway, where Scout had finally descended from the refrigerator. The small cat watched Jessica warily.

“Welcome back to earth.”

Scout flicked her tail, then padded over to the sofa, jumping up to settle on the armrest. Close, but not quite touching Jessica.

Progress , Ali would call it. Both for the cat and, perhaps, for Jessica herself.

Jessica reached for her laptop, determined to return to work, to regain the sense of order and balance that had been slipping away since she’d first set foot in this house.

But as she opened her email, her thoughts kept drifting to Saturday evening, to Ali in formal attire, to the possibility of having someone in her corner during what promised to be an excruciating family dinner.

Scout inched closer on the armrest, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jessica extended her hand. The cat sniffed her fingers cautiously, then pressed her small head against them.

More progress indeed. In more ways than one.