Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune by Roselle Lim

Author:Roselle Lim
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

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.

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