Page 19 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“We’re leaving.” I grabbed his arm and towed him out, but taller and stronger, he resisted me easily.

“Why?” He slipped out of my grip and back into the café. “I need a coffee.”

I followed him in with a grumble and silently directed his attention to Tara, who had resumed working.

“Who’s that?” he said, then immediately recognized my expression. “Tara?” he mouthed with a frown.

I shrugged.

“What’s she doing here?” he whispered and sauntered across to the register. I had little choice but to follow.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said in a hushed voice. “She’s here on a job. I ran into her at the museum where she’s consulting.”

He studied me, then scoffed as he paid for his black-with-an-extra-shot and a scone. “You didn’t just run into her. What aren’t you telling me?”

I looked away.

“Okay,” he said and grabbed his coffee. I thought he’d follow me out, but to my morbid embarrassment, and in what was a clear defeat of my ego, he walked straight over to Tara.

“Hi, sorry to bother you…Tara?”

She looked up from her computer and responded with a tentative smile. “Hi?”

“I’m Mihir, Sameer’s friend.” He pointed to me standing within earshot, and I managed a sheepish wave. “He’s trying to flee this establishment. I guess that’s your doing?” Tara blushed at his irresistibly good smile and lowered her eyes for a moment.

“I plead the fifth,” she said, interlocking her fingers under her chin.

“Ah, I like you.”

Were they actually flirting? I scowled at Mihir’s back.

“Well, you’re too late. Sameer and I are over.” She looked at me, snubbing my beautiful exit line. “So, you don’t have to like me, Mihir.”

“May I?” he asked.

When she nodded, he slipped into the seat opposite her, his long legs barely fitting under the table, almost touching her.

“But I can like you regardless, can’t I?” He smiled and took a sip from his cup. He was a devilishly handsome, suave bastard, and I could see the effect on Tara, who leaned in slightly with a sweet smile on her face.

“Well, you’re not obligated to, which makes me wonder, what’s your ulterior motive?” She volleyed back with a frown.

He grinned, and I shuffled awkwardly, debating whether I should join them or take my humiliation outside with me. But Tara nodded at me, so I approached.

I was about to slide in beside Mihir, but he spread his legs wider and said, “Sorry buddy, you’ll have to sit there.” He signaled to the seat next to Tara. “Woes of a tall body,” he added for effect.

Tara tucked her bag closer to the wall and scooted over. I smelled her beautiful, aquatic floral perfume as I settled beside her. The warmth emanating from her glowing skin felt familiar even after all this time.

“Sameer and I have issues,” she said, looking at Mihir as if I wasn’t at the table. “But otherwise, I’m a nice person. It’s wonderful to meet you, Mihir.” She extended her hand across the table in a choreographed move.

Mihir played along, taking her slender palm in his big paws, holding on for a moment longer than necessary, ignoring my fiery glare.

“In my line of work, one can never have enough rich acquaintances, preferably ones with dubious tastes,” she teased with a straight face. “You’re rich, right?”

Mihir only smiled.

“He has a girlfriend,” I blurted.

“Good to know.” She smiled, her eyes still on Mihir. “I have a boyfriend…And you, Sameer?”

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