Page 30 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

The king smiled and granted them entry into his land. When his people asked the leader what it meant, he explained, the king’s message was that his kingdom was full like the bowl of milk. But the leader said we’ll blend in like sugar. Zoroastrians who became Parsis, adopted the language, food habits, and dressing style of Gujarat, while still retaining their faith and identity. They have been an integral part of India since.

True or not, I loved the story, the simplicity, the wisdom in it. It was a tale of survival and hope, of starting over in a new land without losing the essence of who you were. This was my hope each time I started over in a new life, a new career at a different place on the globe. I adopted changes to my wardrobe and language as necessary to my survival but without surrendering my identity or forfeiting who I was, like sugar in the milk.

Sweet, I appraised myself in the mirror and sent a quick selfie to Aai and Sujit before calling for an Uber.

Chapter 10

Tara

The palatial house was already bustling with people when I entered through its massive doors. Dr. Hadden caught my eye and waved me over. Instead of the usual nod, she grabbed me in an excited hug and tugged me along to be introduced to the hosts—the great-grandson of the original oil baron and his wife. They welcomed me with grace and sophistication, but with a decided warmth in their eyes.

“Your paintings are in expert hands, Jenna,” Dr. Hadden said to Mrs. Arlington. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with them,” she added, sans smile or any other glimpse of warmth. She wasn’t complimenting, merely stating a fact.

Mrs. Arlington smiled at Dr. Hadden’s words and asked if I’d be interested in looking at the other paintings in their collection. With an overeager, possibly unprofessional nod, I accepted the offer as an unexpected privilege. She reacted with a surprised laugh and summoned Peter, one of their “people,” to show me around.

Peter escorted me out of the grand room, into the living area, and to the interior of the house, waiting patiently by every painting as I studied it. Despite my best intentions, I ended up taking long minutes to appreciate each.

“I’m sorry to take up so much time,” I said to Peter as we circled back to the grand room, where the soirée was now in full swing.

“It’s my pleasure. We see them every day, and they kind of blur in the background, you know. It was interesting to watch you admire them.”

“Oh, I could have admired them for hours, you see…” I stopped in my tracks. Ahead of us, standing out in a sea of handsome, elegant people, was Sameer.

His bright eyes scanned the crowd, and his strong smile captivated everyone in his vicinity. On his arm was an equally gorgeous, slender, very well-dressed woman. The couple owned the room, and they knew it. My heart twisted as I saw heads turning to admire the stunning pair.

“Is everything alright?” Peter asked.

“Yes, I thought I saw someone I know,” I said, turning to him, and extended my hand. “Thank you so much for showing me around, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

He smiled and resumed his duties. It took me only a quick moment to deliberate if I should approach Sameer and quell the fire between us or become invisible on the other side of the large room. There was a fair chance Sameer hadn’t seen me, so I chose the latter. There was an equally good chance I’d end up stoking the fire instead of quelling it. I considered myself a good person, but I wasn’t above petty emotions like jealousy. That woman was gorgeous. Perfect’s the word you’re looking for, my brain prodded, but I shut it down quickly.

I found Dr. Hadden talking with our host. As I thanked him for the opportunity to see the paintings, I couldn’t help bringing up the two pieces that perplexed me.

“I think I might be obsessed with them. I keep talking about them to anyone who’ll listen.” I laughed. “They’re challenging me in interesting ways and giving me grief, all at the same time.”

He nodded as if he knew exactly what I was talking about, then let a cunning smile slip. “Let me show you something.”

We followed him to a wall behind the grand room, where he pointed to a painting hiding in the shadows. When he flipped a switch for a recessed light above the frame, my eyes flickered with excitement. The signature was the same as one of the artists of my affliction.

“Do you mind if I spend some time with it?”

“Be my guest,” he said, then squared his shoulders and returned to the party.

“What do you think?” Dr. Hadden asked me.

“I’m not sure. There is something I can’t figure out.”

She patted my shoulder. “Well, have fun with it. I’m going to get another drink.”

“Sure,” I replied absently, and began my investigation.

Standing before the painting reminded me of Sameer’s words, but that particular ship had clearly sailed. I studied the piece till its colors began to blur my vision. What I needed was to rest my eyes and hit the reset button. Perhaps get a drink. I walked back into the grand room, but before I could reach the servers floating around with elegant flutes of white wine and sassy goblets of red, I ran into Sameer.

“Tara!” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

My heart jumped at the way his shoulders filled out the tailored jacket. In my heels, I was almost as tall as him, but in that moment, his towering figure overshadowed me.

I did my best to project disinterest. “Oh. Hi, Sameer.”

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