Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune(42)

I smiled. “I’m glad she’s talking to you again.”

Mr. Kuk Wah was right. My opportunity to alter the course of my romantic life was in a few days, and I needed to make the most of it.





Chapter Fifteen





I left my dark hair down in thick waves and chose a strapless, bohemian maxidress. It was a feminine piece Celia had picked out. If I ever needed to go shopping again, I’d ask her to come with me. Her eye for fashion was unparalleled. I finished the outfit with a pair of plain gold earrings, matching bangles, and gladiator sandals.

The cat loved the bangles and the sound they made as they shifted on my arm.

I refilled her food and water bowls before heading downstairs to the restaurant to wait for Daniel.

He arrived five minutes before noon. My heart jumped when I saw the smile on his face. Daniel carried a bouquet of powder pink peonies. His outfit today was a crisp, long-sleeved plaid shirt over a solid white tee and dark jeans. If his clothes were ever drying on the line, it would be a dream to bury my face in the fabric, inhaling his intoxicating scent of chocolate, spearmint, and coffee.

I opened the door.

“Hi.” His dark eyes drank me in. “These are for you.” He handed me the bouquet.

“Thank you.” I lowered my face into the soft petals. “How did you know I love these?” I placed the flowers in an empty vase I found in the restaurant’s kitchen before grabbing my purse from the counter.

“I was torn between these or hydrangeas. I wanted something big, lots of petals: what a cloud would look like in flower form. You can imagine how the florist reacted when I described it.” His sheepish grin caused me to smile.

“Why clouds?” I asked.

“Because you belong in the sky among the stars.”

My feet floated off the ground as we walked outside. There was an earnestness about him that seemed to stem from the conviction with which he approached life. Daniel seemed to have a steady compass, one I both envied and admired.

“Where are we going?” I asked, locking up.

“To an art gallery. My friend has an exhibit, and judging by the way you loved the flowers, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

An art gallery. Ma-ma mentioned once that her first date with my father had been in the same setting after I told her our fourth-grade class had a field trip to the art museum. It had started there and ended in the destruction of my parents’ marriage. A sense of foreboding tugged at me, but I brushed it away. I needed to trust the man who held my hand and whose eyes gazed at me with such care.

He drove us to our destination in the Marina District. Pockets of blue from the bay were reflected in the windows of the small building. Inside, there were swatches of sheer white fabric concealing the view of the exhibition sign, which read: “Petals: An exhibition by Swapna Mehta.”

Daniel held the door open for me as we headed inside. The interior was cooler than I had expected. Daniel removed his overshirt and settled it on my shoulders. I was enveloped by the warmth from his body heat and comforting scent.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” A petite, Indian American woman with a dazzling smile walked over and gave Daniel a playful smack on the arm. “I told you on the phone to make sure she brings a sweater.”

He smiled and introduced me. “Swapna, this is Natalie. Natalie, this is Swapna, the artist herself.”

Swapna extended her hand. Her dark eyes sparkled. She wore a long, aqua knit sweater over white culottes. Very artsy and lovely. “Pleasure to meet you. Daniel said the nicest things about you.”

I couldn’t stop the fountain of glee from bubbling inside me. He had been thinking of me as much as I had of him. I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you as well.”

“The exhibit is pretty straightforward. You’ll understand soon why we have to keep it cold in here.” She waved to someone by the entrance. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I hope you two enjoy yourselves.”

Daniel and I entered the first room. I gasped. On the largest wall, pressed between circular sheets of glass, were petals of every color imaginable forming a mandala. The explosion of colors complemented the complexity of the arrangement. The air was filled with the heady smell of a full, floral garden.

“It’s so beautiful,” I said.

Daniel walked alongside me. “Swapna knows what she’s doing. She went to the Rhode Island School of Design before moving here. She did this all herself. It took months of planning. Like you, she’s found her true calling. It’s amazing to see when that happens.”

“Running a restaurant is a lot more complicated than I thought.” I pulled my attention away from the mandala. “I feel like the odds are already stacked against me, but I think I have it under control. It would have been helpful if I had finished culinary school.”

“You can cook. Everything else, you can learn. Sure, papers, degrees, or certificates are great, but it’s not the only way to get things done. A few of my friends don’t have computer science degrees, yet they run very successful tech corporations.”

We walked to the next room. This installation was a floor rug made of petals. Alternating colors of purples and golds formed the main border while the field was an ombré sea of blues and fuchsias. A center medallion was composed of gold and scarlet tulips. The design reminded me of Islamic mosaics I’d seen in pictures of the Alhambra in Spain. Swapna’s palette was intensely vibrant.