Page 9 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)
“Sustainable investments, primarily.” Something shifted in Jessica’s expression, genuine enthusiasm breaking through. “Environmental initiatives, social enterprises, companies with strong governance models. Projects that create positive impact beyond just financial returns.”
“Wait.” Ali tilted her head, studying Jessica with new interest. “You’re telling me you help your rich clients invest in saving the planet?”
“You seem surprised. What did you expect? Aggressive growth portfolios? Hostile takeovers?” Jessica raised an eyebrow.
“Something like that, yeah,” Ali admitted. “The investment bankers I’ve met at fundraisers usually care more about their bonuses than biodiversity.”
“Many do,” Jessica acknowledged. “I prefer a different approach. Money flows regardless. All I do is try to ensure it flows in directions that benefit more than just shareholders.”
Their eyes met and held. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken understanding. Jessica’s gaze lingered, warm and considering, before Mr. Darcy chose that moment to launch himself onto her lap.
They continued talking, sharing stories about their families, their careers, the paths that had led them here. Ali found herself relaxing, laughing more easily, hyperaware of Jessica’s proximity and the way their knees almost touched when they shifted positions.
“So you’re not dating anyone just now?” Jessica asked suddenly, then immediately looked horrified. “I’m sorry that was far too personal... and I wasn’t asking to— I mean I wasn’t suggesting...”
Ali’s heart jumped at the question, at Jessica’s obvious embarrassment . “Shame,” she said with a laugh, trying to lighten the moment. “It’s been like an age since someone hit on me! My ego could do with a boost.”
“No, I wasn’t—” Jessica spluttered, her cheeks now offering a hint of color.
“I’m teasing,” Ali said gently. “Honestly, women run a mile when they see me. I give everything I have to the foundation, so I live in a semi-permanent state of being broke and covered in cat and dog hair! I’m nobody’s ideal girlfriend material.”
Especially not for someone like you , she thought, watching Jessica’s face carefully for any reaction. It never did any harm to dream after all. But Jessica simply averted her eyes, giving nothing away, leaving Ali with one thought: straight.
The conversation moved on, but Ali noticed Jessica seemed more relaxed after the awkward exchange, as if clearing the air had helped somehow.
When Jessica’s laptop chimed with a notification, she let out a strangled, “Oh no!” Her head fell into her hands.
“Problem?”
“My parents are coming to visit. This Saturday.”
“That’s nice,” Ali said automatically, then noticed Jessica’s expression. “...or not?”
“I thought I’d managed to fend them off, but my mother is determined. It’s complicated.” Jessica closed her laptop with a decisive click. “They’re bringing dinner guests. Friends with an eligible son.”
Ali’s chest tightened at the words “eligible son.”
“Ah,” she managed. “A parental setup.”
“Exactly. And they’ll expect the house to be presentable.”
Ali glanced around the tidy room. “It looks fine to me.”
“You don’t understand. My mother makes Martha Stewart look like a relaxed minimalist.”
Before Ali could stop herself, she offered, “I could help. With the cats, I mean. Get them settled before dinner. Make sure they’re calm.”
Jessica looked genuinely surprised. “That’s very kind, but I couldn’t ask you to give up your Saturday evening.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.” Ali ignored the voice in her head questioning why she was so eager to spend a Saturday night watching Jessica with some eligible bachelor. “Besides, I’m curious to see how the mighty Jessica Taylor handles a parental ambush.”
A small smile touched Jessica’s lips. “It would be helpful to have someone manage the feline contingent.”
As they discussed the details, Ali became aware she’d just committed to attending a formal dinner party. With Jessica. And her parents. And some man they wanted her to date.
This was either brilliant or incredibly stupid. Given her track record, the second option was the most likely.
“So, Saturday at seven. I’ll try not to embarrass you in front of the parental unit and their eligible bachelor.”
Jessica’s mouth twitched. “I’d appreciate that.”
As Ali gathered her things to leave, she couldn’t help adding, “Unless you’d rather I show up in my rattiest T-shirt to scare off Mr. Perfect Match.”
Jessica’s expression shifted—a flash of what might have been relief, or hope, quickly masked.
“Save the ratty T-shirt for our next cat session,” Jessica said, walking her to the door.
As Ali drove away, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jessica’s reaction to the eligible bachelor comment. Or the way she’d asked about Ali’s dating status. Or how she’d looked in those jeans.
If she didn’t watch what she was doing, she was going to be in such trouble. Deep, complicated, probably-straight-client trouble.
But she was already looking forward to Saturday.