Page 13 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Darling!” Lakshmi Mehta-Taylor swept in, elegant in navy silk with gold embroidery. “The house looks cleaner than I expected.”

“Hello, Mother.” Jessica accepted the air kiss. “Dad.”

James Taylor gave her that brief flash of warmth she wished would last longer before he averted his attention, as though emotions were too messy for a man like him. “Princess.” His eyes swept over the hallway. “The place has potential.”

As they moved to the living room, Jessica was intensely aware of Ali’s presence in the kitchen, but before she could bring her through for introductions, the Patels arrived with Vikram looking uncomfortably rigid in a three-piece suit.

“Jessica!” Mrs. Patel embraced her with genuine warmth. “Look at you, so beautiful, so successful. Your mother tells me you’ve made director already. Fastest in your firm’s history, yes?”

“Second fastest,” Jessica corrected with a smile, accepting the bouquet Mrs. Patel offered. “But who’s counting?”

“Vikram,” Dr. Patel clapped his son on the shoulder, “has made partner at Montgomery Sachs. Youngest in the London office.”

“Congratulations,” Jessica said, turning to Vikram, who looked predictably uncomfortable with his father’s boasting.

Tall and lean, with wire-rimmed glasses and a carefully maintained beard.

Vikram was intelligent but risk-averse, the type who did his level best to follow predetermined paths to success without questioning their direction.

The kind of man her mother would call “a good match” and Jessica would call “the wrong choice.”

“Thanks,” he said, offering a small smile. “It’s not as impressive as it sounds. Right place, right time.”

“Nonsense,” his father insisted. “It was hard work and brilliance. Just as we knew when you were small.”

The elder Patels moved into the living room, accepting drinks from her father and immediately falling into the comfortable rhythm of old friends catching up. Vikram lingered with Jessica in the entryway.

“Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “They haven’t changed.”

“Neither have mine,” she replied, feeling a moment of genuine camaraderie with him. “Still determined to orchestrate our lives down to the last detail.”

“Including another shot at this not-so-subtle setup?” He raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

Jessica laughed despite herself. “Mmhmm. Though I should warn you, I’ve thrown a wrench in their plans.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve invited someone else to join us. A colleague.”

“Thank god,” Vikram said with feeling. “I was dreading another dinner of meaningful glances and hints about grandchildren.”

“Don’t get too excited. She’s here in a professional capacity.”

“She?” His eyebrows rose. “A ‘professional capacity,’ huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Jessica felt a flush creeping up her neck. “It’s not like that. She’s helping me with a project related to the house.”

“Uh-huh.” Vikram’s expression was amused. “Well, I can’t wait to meet this ‘professional colleague’ who has you blushing like a schoolgirl.”

“I am not—” Jessica began, but her mother’s voice interrupted from the living room.

“Jessica, darling, bring Vikram in for a drink.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Just give me a minute, will you? Then we can all go in together…” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Less awkward.”

“Everyone, this is Dr. Alison Ritchie,” Jessica announced, as the rest of the party turned in their direction. “Ali, these are my parents, James and Lakshmi Taylor, and our friends, Dr. and Mrs. Patel, and their son, Vikram.”

The introductions passed in a blur of handshakes and assessments. Jessica watched her mother’s gaze sweep over Ali, cataloging every detail with a consultant’s critical eye.

At dinner, Ali ended up between Vikram and Mrs. Patel, directly across from Jessica. The strategic placement wasn’t lost on her—close enough to Vikram for matchmaking purposes, far enough from Jessica to prevent any appearance of intimacy.

“So, Dr. Ritchie,” Lakshmi began as soup was served, “how do you know Jessica?”

Jessica caught Ali’s eye with a warning glance.

“We met through a mutual connection. And please, call me Ali.”

“Ali.” Lakshmi tested the name. “What an unusual field you’ve chosen. Is there much demand for animal psychology?”

“More than you might think,” Ali replied, warming to her subject.

“As our understanding of animal cognition evolves, so does our approach to behavioral issues. Many problems that might once have been addressed through medication or even euthanasia can now be resolved through behavioral modification.”

“How noble,” James Taylor said in a tone that suggested he found it anything but. “Though hardly lucrative, I imagine.”

“Dad,” Jessica said quietly, a warning in her voice.

“It’s alright,” Ali assured her. “Financial reward isn’t the only measure of a successful career, Mr. Taylor.

But to answer your question, the field is growing.

Our foundation has expanded from three staff members to twelve in the past three years, and we’ve recently partnered with Colorado State’s veterinary program to develop specialized training protocols. ”

“A foundation?” Mrs. Patel inquired. “So it’s non-profit work?”

“The Healing Paws Foundation, yes. We provide behavioral services on a sliding scale to ensure accessibility, and we’re developing therapeutic animal programs with several hospitals and schools.”

Vikram leaned forward with interest. “Including the new pediatric wing at Denver Memorial? I read about that program. It’s showing remarkable results.”

Ali nodded. “That’s one of ours. We’ve been working with Dr. Fenna Ivers-Vargas, who championed the initiative.”

“Fenna!” Mrs. Patel exclaimed. “The Vargas girl? We know her family well. Her mother serves on the children’s charity board with me.”

“Small world,” Ali smiled.

“That’s Denver for you,” Vikram said. “Everyone knows everyone, eventually.”

The conversation flowed more easily after that.

Jessica found herself watching Ali, the animated way she spoke about her work, the genuine passion in her eyes.

Their gazes occasionally met across the table, each glance feeling like a private conversation amid the public performance.

Jessica tried not to stare at the way candlelight caught the curve of Ali’s throat, or how her fingers wrapped around her wine glass.

Then a soft thump from the living room made everyone freeze. Jessica’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth, her eyes closing in dread.

“What was that?” Lakshmi asked.

“Probably just the house settling,” Jessica said quickly. “It’s over a hundred years old.”

Another crash, louder this time, followed by the unmistakable sound of wood hitting floor.

“That doesn’t sound like settling.” James frowned.

Before Jessica could respond, Mr. Darcy made his entrance—a black blur streaking into the dining room, leaping onto the sideboard, sending a crystal decanter wobbling.

“What on earth—” Lakshmi began.

But Mr. Darcy wasn’t finished. With perfect timing, he launched himself onto the dining table itself, skidding past serving dishes before stopping directly in front of Dr. Patel.

Then, with deliberate precision, he extended one paw and knocked over Dr. Patel’s wine glass.

“I can explain,” Jessica began, but was drowned out by exclamations as wine spread across white linen.

Ali sprang into action, grabbing napkins while Mr. Darcy evaded capture with insulting ease. In the doorway, Scout and Ernest had materialized, drawn by the commotion.

“Jessica!” Lakshmi’s voice cut through the chaos. “Why is there a cat on your dining table?”

“Cats, actually,” James corrected, pointing to the gathering audience.

Jessica straightened, making a choice. “They’re part of the inheritance. Aunt Vivian’s will stipulated that I care for her cats as a condition of receiving the house.”

“And you agreed to this?” Lakshmi looked appalled. “Jessica, you’re allergic to cats.”

“Apparently not. And it’s only for six months.”

“Six months of living with... how many are there?”

“Seven.”

“Seven!” Lakshmi’s hand flew to her throat. “This is why you were so evasive about having us over. You’re living in a cat sanctuary.”

“It’s hardly a sanctuary, Mother. They’re very well-behaved, usually.” Jessica shot Ali a look that clearly said I thought you were watching them .

Ali shrugged apologetically, clearly fighting a smile.

“This is why you’re here,” Mrs. Patel said suddenly, looking at Ali with comprehension. “You’re not an investment advisor. You’re helping with these creatures.”

Ali glanced at Jessica, who nodded. “Yes. I’ve been helping Jessica adjust to life with her new feline housemates.”

The silence stretched until Vikram surprised everyone by laughing. “That explains the orange hair on the sofa. I was beginning to think you’d adopted a very unusual personal style, Jessica.”

Jessica laughed too, the sound freeing somehow. “Orange isn’t really my color.”

“No, burgundy has always suited you better,” Mrs. Patel said, recovering admirably. “Though I must say, the black one has quite striking eyes.”

“That’s Mr. Darcy,” Ali offered. “He’s... spirited.”

“Like his namesake,” Vikram quipped.

The tension eased marginally, though Lakshmi remained rigid with disapproval. James had already returned to his meal, apparently deciding cat drama was beneath his concern.

The rest of dinner proceeded without feline interruption, though Ernest had established himself on a nearby chair. The conversation returned to safer topics: Vikram’s London experiences, the Patels’ anniversary cruise, James’s new surgical technique.

As dessert was served, Jessica noticed her mother watching her interaction with Vikram when they reminisced about a mutual friend from Yale.

“You two always did make a handsome couple,” Mrs. Patel observed.

Jessica’s cheeks colored. “That was a lifetime ago, Auntie.”

“The best matches often need time to mature,” Lakshmi added meaningfully.

Jessica felt a flicker of irritation at her mother’s transparent matchmaking. She caught Ali’s eye across the table and saw something—disappointment? resignation?—cross her face before she focused back on her dessert.

The evening finally wound down, and as they gathered in the foyer, Vikram hugged Jessica.

“Call me next time you’re in London,” he said. “We’ll have dinner without the parental oversight.”

“I’d like that,” Jessica replied, and meant it. Vikram’s friendship was one of the few uncomplicated relationships in her life.

The Patels departed first, with Mrs. Patel extracting a promise from Ali about reading recommendations.

Then Lakshmi drew Jessica aside while James discussed something with Ali.

“Jessica, I’m concerned about this unusual arrangement,” her mother said quietly. “Have you considered how it might impact your professional standing? What if clients found out?” She glanced toward Ali. “And Vikram is still single. Don’t dismiss possibilities because of past... experiences.”

Jessica stiffened. “Mother, not now.”

“I’m simply looking out for your future.”

Finally, mercifully, the Taylors departed. The door closed with a decisive click, and Jessica sagged against it, eyes shut.

“Well,” Ali ventured, “that was...”

“A disaster?” Jessica opened her eyes.

“I was going to say ‘eventful.’ Though Mr. Darcy’s table dancing was certainly a highlight.”

Jessica laughed, the sound surprising even herself. “Did you see my mother’s face? I thought she might faint.”