The Singles Table, page 13
“Not only do they have a warming effect,” she mumbled against his shirt, “they also make everything seem less dire. So what that my dad painted vulva fruit? Or that he had a live muse who is wandering around the gallery right now eager to talk about her experience with my bosses, my postman, my local grocer, my friends, and my family? It’s no big deal. Am I right?”
Warmth flooded through him. She loved her dad and he understood that love, the willingness to do anything for the parent who’d raised you. The gallery was full because of her. Indra couldn’t say enough about Zara’s efforts to support her father. And now that she was over the shock of finding out there was a muse—he still couldn’t wrap his head around that one—she was planning to go back inside because it was the right thing to do.
“It’s art,” he said. “I’m sure everyone understands that. They certainly were . . . stimulating.” He needed to put the brakes on any thoughts about the exhibit and the sensual suggestive displays that had served only to spark his desire.
“His paintings used to be very different.” She rested her head against his chest. “Mostly they were of his village in India, people he knew, events from his past, things he missed. They were calm and soothing, and there was so much depth to them, so many layers.” Her chest rose and fell with a sigh. “He doesn’t paint like that anymore. Not since my parents got divorced. I was only eleven and it utterly destroyed me. I think it destroyed him, too. My mom tried to limit his access. She thought he was a bad influence, but it turns out we share the same ‘impulsive hot mess’ genes and no one is to blame.”
“From what I’ve seen, neither of you qualifies as a hot mess,” he said. “Indra hardly had a moment to talk because there were so many interested buyers clamoring for her attention. Elias even wants one for our office.”
She looked up, her head tipped back in the perfect position for a kiss. He saw desire in her eyes that reflected the need in his. “You like them?”
“You might be surprised what I like.” He was almost overwhelmed with the temptation to stroke her cheek and feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to kiss his way down her throat, feel the flutter of her pulse beneath his lips. Some secret part of him burned for her, wanted to capture her essence and drink her in. His heart pounded wildly. Christ. If he managed to leave this alley without kissing her, it would be a miracle. When had he last felt this rush of adrenaline? When had he last felt so utterly alive? So out of control?
He pulled away abruptly, breaking the connection between them. “Your dad will be wondering where you are. I’m sure Parvati has found some ice by now.”
“Yes, you’re right.” She drew in a ragged breath, her voice high and faint.
“Ready to face the fruit?” He held out his hand, needing that small connection before they left the intimacy of the alley.
“I’m just holding your hand out of an abundance of caution.” She slid her palm against his. “I don’t want to crack my head twice in one night.”
“Perfectly understandable.” He liked holding her hand, but more than that he liked the idea that she was relying on him to keep her safe. Liked it a little too much, considering what had brought them together.
“You’re smiling.” She fiddled self-consciously with her hair, pushing back the gentle curls as they walked toward the main road.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said. “Let me know if you feel unsteady or if you need to stop for another hug, since I am a master hugger.”
“It was good,” she said stiffly. “Not great. Don’t get too cocky. I was, in fact, assessing your hug potential for future matches.”
He barely managed to choke back his laughter. It was getting hard to remember this was the same woman who had stolen his paintball victory and shot him in the ass—the woman who had turned his life upside down in two short weeks. “Like a test drive?”
She shrugged and looked away, but not before he saw the faintest quiver of her lips.
“What else do you assess during these test drives?” He felt electric, every nerve in his body firing at once, this attraction raw and unexpected. “Tires?”
As one, they slowed a few feet before the sidewalk, stopping in the shadows as if neither of them wanted to step into the glare of the lights.
She turned to face him, her gaze dipping to his shoes. “They do seem to be in good working order.”
“Suspension?” He took a step closer and heard her breath catch in her throat.
“A little bit stiff.” She licked her lips. “I think we’re in for a rough ride.”
“Acceleration?” Jay shoved the warning voice out of his head and cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb over her soft cheek. Her gaze grew heavy and she sighed. Or was it a whimper? He could barely hear over the rush of blood through his ears.
“A little too fast,” she whispered, leaning in. She pressed one palm against his chest, and in that moment he knew she wanted him, too. “Maybe I should test the handling.”
Dropping his head, he brushed soft kisses along her jaw, feathering a path to the bow of her mouth as he slid one hand under her soft hair to cup her nape. He felt like he’d just trapped a butterfly. If he didn’t hold on tight, she might fly away. “Or the navigation.”
She moaned, the soft sound making him tense inside. His free hand slid over her curves to her hip and she ground up against him, a deliciously painful pressure on his already-hard shaft.
“Navigation it is.” He breathed in the scent of her. Wildflowers. A thunderstorm. The rolling sea.
She turned her head before he reached her mouth. “I’m supposed to be finding your perfect match.”
“Indra wasn’t my type.” He groaned when she pressed cool lips to the heated skin of his neck, teetering on the edge.
“Who is your—”
“Zara?” Parvati’s voice echoed down the street. “I’ve got the ice.”
With a gasp, she stiffened. His mouth left her skin before she stepped away.
Her soft, wet lips and the heat in her dark eyes stoked his hunger. He drew in a slow breath and tried to center himself. Of course she was right to stop this. They were totally wrong for each other. His perfect match was someone like him. Someone who didn’t dance in restaurants or run into doors. Someone who wouldn’t threaten his self-control with one simple touch.
“We’re here,” she called out.
“Are you okay?” Parvati joined them a few moments later, eyes narrowing on Jay’s jacket, hanging on Zara’s shoulders. “It took me forever to find a bag for the ice. Let me take a look.”
“I’m good. Really.”
Parvati squinted in the dim light. “Your pupils are dilated. That’s not a good sign.”
Zara coughed, choked, shot a panicked glance in Jay’s direction. “It’s just the light, Parv. I’m fine.” She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to Jay without meeting his gaze. “Thanks. I’ve warmed up now. Nothing like an exhibition of vulva fruit to freeze the blood in a person’s veins.”
Jay folded the jacket neatly over his arm. “Anytime.”
“I’d better get in there and congratulate my dad.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and he had a sudden fear he’d broken something between them.
“Indra is proclaiming it a huge success.” Parvati turned Zara’s head from side to side, inspecting her face.
“I hope he doesn’t move on to breasts as bread loaves next.” Zara gave a hollow laugh. “I don’t think I could take dual pumpernickel with almonds on top.”
Parvati snorted as they walked away. “He could do desserts. Plum pudding would work nicely. Or gulab jamun.”
“You’re going to ruin desserts for me forever.” Looking over her shoulder, Zara called out to Jay, “Aren’t you coming?”
“I have to get back to the office.” He was in no condition to go back into the gallery, much less wander through an exhibition of erotic art. What he really needed to do was go home, take a cold shower, and try to clear his mind of soft lips and warm hands and heavy gazes filled with lust.
Her shoulders slumped the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Indra.”
“It was for the best.”
Still, she didn’t move. “Jay?”
“Yes?” He couldn’t leave until she left. Couldn’t move in case she came running back to him. Couldn’t breathe because desire still had him in its grip.
“Excellent brakes.”
* * *
• • •
Zara’s head had only just hit her pillow when her phone buzzed with a text. Marmalade, annoyed at the interruption, put a furry paw on her cheek as if to hold her in place. The ginger cat had squeezed in an open window one afternoon when she and Parvati were at work and had made their apartment his permanent home.
“I need to get that. Don’t steal my pillow.” She rolled over to grab her phone and Marmalade swiftly moved into position.
“I can put you out,” she warned him as he made himself comfortable in the center of her pillow. “You’ll have to sleep all alone on the couch. How would you like that?”
Marmalade twitched his tail and closed his eyes. He knew she didn’t have the heart to move him.
JAY: Did you get home safely?
ZARA: Yes. Parvati had the strange idea that we were being followed, but I told her she watched too many crime shows.
JAY: Head okay?
ZARA: Fine. Dr. Parvati put me to bed with an ice pack and two aspirin and told me to wake her in the morning.
JAY: What happened in the alley . . .
ZARA: Stays in the alley. It won’t happen again.
It couldn’t happen again. She could still feel his hands on her body, his lips brushing her cheek, the firm grip of his hand on her neck, the raw heat of him. If Parvati hadn’t found them at that exact moment, Zara might have gone too far. He was too damn hot, too sexy, too irresistible. Too utterly wrong for her. Jay Dayal was a dangerous man.
JAY: I owe you a celebrity introduction. We’ve been hired to provide security for a movie wrap party on Tuesday for a zombie film. I can get you in if you’d like to meet the star, Bob Smith. The movie is called “Day of the Night of the Evening of the Revenge of the Bride of the Son of the Terror of the Return of the Attack of the Alien, Mutant, Evil, Hellbound, Flesh-Eating, Rotting Corpse Living Dead Part 6: In Shocking 4-D.”
ZARA: Did you just put “zombie,” “movie,” and “celebrity” in the same sentence? The answer is YES!
JAY: I’ll send details.
* * *
• • •
“Parvati! Wake up!” Zara flicked on Parvati’s bedroom light, startling her friend awake.
Instantly alert, Parvati rolled over. “What is it? Fire? Break-in? Do you have a headache? Dizziness?”
“Jay invited me to a wrap party. I’m going to meet the stars of Day of the Night of the Evening of the Revenge of the Bride of the Son of the Terror of the Return of the Attack of the Alien, Mutant, Evil, Hellbound, Flesh-Eating, Rotting Corpse Living Dead Part 6: In Shocking 4-D next Tuesday. What am I going to wear?”
Parvati groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. “Maybe we could discuss it when it’s not midnight and I have to get up in five hours for my shift.”
Zara paced around Parvati’s room, stepping over clothes, pizza boxes, and piles of medical books. “I need to borrow your black dress. I saw Lucia Sanchez at Jay’s office and she looked very chic in all black. That’s going to be me. Conservative and professional. I’ll introduce myself, hand out a few cards, and leave. No booze. No food. No dancing. No fangirling. No asking for autographs except maybe one on my arm. No trips, falls, accidents, or chaos . . .” She trailed off when Parvati pulled off the pillow to shake her head.
“You’re not a black-on-black person. You’re a bright-colors-and-sparkles person. Just be yourself.”
“I can’t be myself.” She leaned against the dresser piled high with plushies that Parvati had received as gifts from the many men she’d dated and dumped. “Myself will trip on the stairs, spill champagne, or set someone’s hair on fire. Myself will set off the sprinklers or fall through a drum kit.” She swallowed hard. “Myself almost kissed Jay in the alley and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Her hand went to her cheek where the memory of his lips made her heart thud and her toes curl. If she hadn’t turned her head, she could have had those lips. She could have kissed him until every breath had left her lungs. She could have given in to the tidal wave of desire that had roared and crashed through her veins.
“Don’t worry.” She held up a hand when Parvati opened her mouth, no doubt to remind her of her first impression of Jay. “I told him it wouldn’t happen again.”
“I am worried.” Parvati tucked the pillow behind her head. “You seem to be in denial about the fact you’re hot for him despite his considerable list of flaws.”
Zara joined Parvati on the bed. “You’re right. He’s exactly the kind of emotionally unavailable guy I’m attracted to. And then it’s all, Surprise! I’ve got two kids and a wife. And then I’m hitting him in the face with a passion fruit pavlova I had ordered from a bakery an hour away, and his kid is saying, Daddy, who is that mean lady? I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
“So, what’s the problem? You’re supposed to be finding his match.”
Zara tipped her head back and groaned. “He’s irritatingly thoughtful. He came to rescue me in the bar when he thought the singer was being a little too handsy, and tonight he came out to the alley to make sure I was okay. He wrapped his jacket around me because I was cold, and then he gave me a hug. He’s got a sense of humor when he lets his guard down. And he’s so sexy, Parv. The way he looks, the way he walks . . . the confidence . . . that ass . . . When he almost kissed me, he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.”
“If he’s got all that going for him, why does he need a matchmaker?” Parvati fiddled with the blue ribbon around the neck of one of her plush bears. Over the years, they’d increased in size, each lover trying to outdo the rest.
“Maybe he’s lonely. He mentioned his mom wanting him to find someone. I don’t think he’s really taking it that seriously. He keeps saying he isn’t interested in anything long-term. We have that much in common.”
“So, sleep with him. Scratch your itch and move on.” Parvati tossed the bear to Zara and she caught it in her arms.
“I don’t even know if he’s interested. Maybe he was just messing around. And what if he’s my kryptonite, Parv? What if I really fall for him and it kills me?”
“I think you’re being overly dramatic, but fortunately your best friend is a medical professional. I’ll be here to make sure that doesn’t happen. Now can I go to sleep?” She lay down and pulled the duvet over her head.
Zara squeezed the bear to her chest. “Parv?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“Am I too much?”
Parvati pushed back the cover. “What do you mean?”
“Do I talk too much? Am I . . .” She hesitated. “Do I put too much of me out there?”
Parvati’s jaw tightened. “Did Jay say that to you?”
“No. Of course not. I was just wondering . . .”
“You are perfect,” Parvati said firmly. “Exactly the way you are. Your colorful clothes. Your sparkle. The way you light up a room. Your long train-of-thought sentences when you’re excited. I love everything about you and so do your friends and your family. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a loser and not worth your time.”
Zara swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Maybe I won’t wear the black dress.”
“Damn right. You should wear the red one that you wore to your uncle Nadal’s sangeet. I will never forget how he ripped a tablecloth off one of the tables and wrapped you up like a mummy until one of the aunties found a long coat to cover you up.”
“I do look fabulous in that dress,” she mused.
Parvati pulled the covers back over her head. “Wear it. Go to the party and be yourself. Forget about Jay and meet lots of celebrities and have a fabulous time. I’m on the night shift on Tuesday. If you have to call an ambulance, tell them to go to Bay 5. I’ll be waiting.”
• 13 •
Elias was in his element. Thirty minutes into the wrap party and he had already thrown out a trespasser, called the police to pick up a drug dealer, and stopped a zombie attack on the complimentary buffet. Jay hadn’t seen him this happy in years.
“Damn. I missed this.” Elias held a hand up to stop a group of clearly underage zombies at the door. “We should do this more often. Keep up our skills.”
“It does have its appeal.” Jay pulled two zombies apart and confiscated the fake leg they’d been fighting over. After J-Tech’s national expansion, they’d put together a solid team of ex-military specialists to deal with the on-site guarding work so they could focus on running the business. But Jay had to admit—as he rescued a zombie hooker from slipping on a pool of fake blood—that he missed being part of the action.
He checked the door again for Zara. He’d moved too fast in the alley, assumed too much. Hopefully, they could go back to being . . . what? Friends? He didn’t want to kiss his friends. He didn’t fantasize about them in the shower at home until his blood ran hot and the water ran cold.
About to walk away, he spotted Zara by the cloakroom having a heated discussion with a zombie bride who was checking coats. His breath caught when the bride stepped to the side, giving him a glimpse of Zara in a curve-hugging red dress that left her back bare but for the crisscross of thin red straps. She looked beautiful, sexy, and the sight of her made his pulse kick up a notch.
Shut it down. He put the brakes on the runaway train of lust. They’d agreed what happened in the alley was a mistake. With the international expansion so close he could almost taste it, Zara was a distraction that he couldn’t afford. Even this deal to find him a match was time he would never recover. And for what? Someone to accompany him to business dinners or to occasionally warm his bed at night? He didn’t need a partner, and she deserved someone who shared her energy and passion, someone as vibrant and alive, someone who could be there for her in the way he could never be.
Warmth flooded through him. She loved her dad and he understood that love, the willingness to do anything for the parent who’d raised you. The gallery was full because of her. Indra couldn’t say enough about Zara’s efforts to support her father. And now that she was over the shock of finding out there was a muse—he still couldn’t wrap his head around that one—she was planning to go back inside because it was the right thing to do.
“It’s art,” he said. “I’m sure everyone understands that. They certainly were . . . stimulating.” He needed to put the brakes on any thoughts about the exhibit and the sensual suggestive displays that had served only to spark his desire.
“His paintings used to be very different.” She rested her head against his chest. “Mostly they were of his village in India, people he knew, events from his past, things he missed. They were calm and soothing, and there was so much depth to them, so many layers.” Her chest rose and fell with a sigh. “He doesn’t paint like that anymore. Not since my parents got divorced. I was only eleven and it utterly destroyed me. I think it destroyed him, too. My mom tried to limit his access. She thought he was a bad influence, but it turns out we share the same ‘impulsive hot mess’ genes and no one is to blame.”
“From what I’ve seen, neither of you qualifies as a hot mess,” he said. “Indra hardly had a moment to talk because there were so many interested buyers clamoring for her attention. Elias even wants one for our office.”
She looked up, her head tipped back in the perfect position for a kiss. He saw desire in her eyes that reflected the need in his. “You like them?”
“You might be surprised what I like.” He was almost overwhelmed with the temptation to stroke her cheek and feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to kiss his way down her throat, feel the flutter of her pulse beneath his lips. Some secret part of him burned for her, wanted to capture her essence and drink her in. His heart pounded wildly. Christ. If he managed to leave this alley without kissing her, it would be a miracle. When had he last felt this rush of adrenaline? When had he last felt so utterly alive? So out of control?
He pulled away abruptly, breaking the connection between them. “Your dad will be wondering where you are. I’m sure Parvati has found some ice by now.”
“Yes, you’re right.” She drew in a ragged breath, her voice high and faint.
“Ready to face the fruit?” He held out his hand, needing that small connection before they left the intimacy of the alley.
“I’m just holding your hand out of an abundance of caution.” She slid her palm against his. “I don’t want to crack my head twice in one night.”
“Perfectly understandable.” He liked holding her hand, but more than that he liked the idea that she was relying on him to keep her safe. Liked it a little too much, considering what had brought them together.
“You’re smiling.” She fiddled self-consciously with her hair, pushing back the gentle curls as they walked toward the main road.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said. “Let me know if you feel unsteady or if you need to stop for another hug, since I am a master hugger.”
“It was good,” she said stiffly. “Not great. Don’t get too cocky. I was, in fact, assessing your hug potential for future matches.”
He barely managed to choke back his laughter. It was getting hard to remember this was the same woman who had stolen his paintball victory and shot him in the ass—the woman who had turned his life upside down in two short weeks. “Like a test drive?”
She shrugged and looked away, but not before he saw the faintest quiver of her lips.
“What else do you assess during these test drives?” He felt electric, every nerve in his body firing at once, this attraction raw and unexpected. “Tires?”
As one, they slowed a few feet before the sidewalk, stopping in the shadows as if neither of them wanted to step into the glare of the lights.
She turned to face him, her gaze dipping to his shoes. “They do seem to be in good working order.”
“Suspension?” He took a step closer and heard her breath catch in her throat.
“A little bit stiff.” She licked her lips. “I think we’re in for a rough ride.”
“Acceleration?” Jay shoved the warning voice out of his head and cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb over her soft cheek. Her gaze grew heavy and she sighed. Or was it a whimper? He could barely hear over the rush of blood through his ears.
“A little too fast,” she whispered, leaning in. She pressed one palm against his chest, and in that moment he knew she wanted him, too. “Maybe I should test the handling.”
Dropping his head, he brushed soft kisses along her jaw, feathering a path to the bow of her mouth as he slid one hand under her soft hair to cup her nape. He felt like he’d just trapped a butterfly. If he didn’t hold on tight, she might fly away. “Or the navigation.”
She moaned, the soft sound making him tense inside. His free hand slid over her curves to her hip and she ground up against him, a deliciously painful pressure on his already-hard shaft.
“Navigation it is.” He breathed in the scent of her. Wildflowers. A thunderstorm. The rolling sea.
She turned her head before he reached her mouth. “I’m supposed to be finding your perfect match.”
“Indra wasn’t my type.” He groaned when she pressed cool lips to the heated skin of his neck, teetering on the edge.
“Who is your—”
“Zara?” Parvati’s voice echoed down the street. “I’ve got the ice.”
With a gasp, she stiffened. His mouth left her skin before she stepped away.
Her soft, wet lips and the heat in her dark eyes stoked his hunger. He drew in a slow breath and tried to center himself. Of course she was right to stop this. They were totally wrong for each other. His perfect match was someone like him. Someone who didn’t dance in restaurants or run into doors. Someone who wouldn’t threaten his self-control with one simple touch.
“We’re here,” she called out.
“Are you okay?” Parvati joined them a few moments later, eyes narrowing on Jay’s jacket, hanging on Zara’s shoulders. “It took me forever to find a bag for the ice. Let me take a look.”
“I’m good. Really.”
Parvati squinted in the dim light. “Your pupils are dilated. That’s not a good sign.”
Zara coughed, choked, shot a panicked glance in Jay’s direction. “It’s just the light, Parv. I’m fine.” She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to Jay without meeting his gaze. “Thanks. I’ve warmed up now. Nothing like an exhibition of vulva fruit to freeze the blood in a person’s veins.”
Jay folded the jacket neatly over his arm. “Anytime.”
“I’d better get in there and congratulate my dad.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and he had a sudden fear he’d broken something between them.
“Indra is proclaiming it a huge success.” Parvati turned Zara’s head from side to side, inspecting her face.
“I hope he doesn’t move on to breasts as bread loaves next.” Zara gave a hollow laugh. “I don’t think I could take dual pumpernickel with almonds on top.”
Parvati snorted as they walked away. “He could do desserts. Plum pudding would work nicely. Or gulab jamun.”
“You’re going to ruin desserts for me forever.” Looking over her shoulder, Zara called out to Jay, “Aren’t you coming?”
“I have to get back to the office.” He was in no condition to go back into the gallery, much less wander through an exhibition of erotic art. What he really needed to do was go home, take a cold shower, and try to clear his mind of soft lips and warm hands and heavy gazes filled with lust.
Her shoulders slumped the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Indra.”
“It was for the best.”
Still, she didn’t move. “Jay?”
“Yes?” He couldn’t leave until she left. Couldn’t move in case she came running back to him. Couldn’t breathe because desire still had him in its grip.
“Excellent brakes.”
* * *
• • •
Zara’s head had only just hit her pillow when her phone buzzed with a text. Marmalade, annoyed at the interruption, put a furry paw on her cheek as if to hold her in place. The ginger cat had squeezed in an open window one afternoon when she and Parvati were at work and had made their apartment his permanent home.
“I need to get that. Don’t steal my pillow.” She rolled over to grab her phone and Marmalade swiftly moved into position.
“I can put you out,” she warned him as he made himself comfortable in the center of her pillow. “You’ll have to sleep all alone on the couch. How would you like that?”
Marmalade twitched his tail and closed his eyes. He knew she didn’t have the heart to move him.
JAY: Did you get home safely?
ZARA: Yes. Parvati had the strange idea that we were being followed, but I told her she watched too many crime shows.
JAY: Head okay?
ZARA: Fine. Dr. Parvati put me to bed with an ice pack and two aspirin and told me to wake her in the morning.
JAY: What happened in the alley . . .
ZARA: Stays in the alley. It won’t happen again.
It couldn’t happen again. She could still feel his hands on her body, his lips brushing her cheek, the firm grip of his hand on her neck, the raw heat of him. If Parvati hadn’t found them at that exact moment, Zara might have gone too far. He was too damn hot, too sexy, too irresistible. Too utterly wrong for her. Jay Dayal was a dangerous man.
JAY: I owe you a celebrity introduction. We’ve been hired to provide security for a movie wrap party on Tuesday for a zombie film. I can get you in if you’d like to meet the star, Bob Smith. The movie is called “Day of the Night of the Evening of the Revenge of the Bride of the Son of the Terror of the Return of the Attack of the Alien, Mutant, Evil, Hellbound, Flesh-Eating, Rotting Corpse Living Dead Part 6: In Shocking 4-D.”
ZARA: Did you just put “zombie,” “movie,” and “celebrity” in the same sentence? The answer is YES!
JAY: I’ll send details.
* * *
• • •
“Parvati! Wake up!” Zara flicked on Parvati’s bedroom light, startling her friend awake.
Instantly alert, Parvati rolled over. “What is it? Fire? Break-in? Do you have a headache? Dizziness?”
“Jay invited me to a wrap party. I’m going to meet the stars of Day of the Night of the Evening of the Revenge of the Bride of the Son of the Terror of the Return of the Attack of the Alien, Mutant, Evil, Hellbound, Flesh-Eating, Rotting Corpse Living Dead Part 6: In Shocking 4-D next Tuesday. What am I going to wear?”
Parvati groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. “Maybe we could discuss it when it’s not midnight and I have to get up in five hours for my shift.”
Zara paced around Parvati’s room, stepping over clothes, pizza boxes, and piles of medical books. “I need to borrow your black dress. I saw Lucia Sanchez at Jay’s office and she looked very chic in all black. That’s going to be me. Conservative and professional. I’ll introduce myself, hand out a few cards, and leave. No booze. No food. No dancing. No fangirling. No asking for autographs except maybe one on my arm. No trips, falls, accidents, or chaos . . .” She trailed off when Parvati pulled off the pillow to shake her head.
“You’re not a black-on-black person. You’re a bright-colors-and-sparkles person. Just be yourself.”
“I can’t be myself.” She leaned against the dresser piled high with plushies that Parvati had received as gifts from the many men she’d dated and dumped. “Myself will trip on the stairs, spill champagne, or set someone’s hair on fire. Myself will set off the sprinklers or fall through a drum kit.” She swallowed hard. “Myself almost kissed Jay in the alley and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Her hand went to her cheek where the memory of his lips made her heart thud and her toes curl. If she hadn’t turned her head, she could have had those lips. She could have kissed him until every breath had left her lungs. She could have given in to the tidal wave of desire that had roared and crashed through her veins.
“Don’t worry.” She held up a hand when Parvati opened her mouth, no doubt to remind her of her first impression of Jay. “I told him it wouldn’t happen again.”
“I am worried.” Parvati tucked the pillow behind her head. “You seem to be in denial about the fact you’re hot for him despite his considerable list of flaws.”
Zara joined Parvati on the bed. “You’re right. He’s exactly the kind of emotionally unavailable guy I’m attracted to. And then it’s all, Surprise! I’ve got two kids and a wife. And then I’m hitting him in the face with a passion fruit pavlova I had ordered from a bakery an hour away, and his kid is saying, Daddy, who is that mean lady? I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
“So, what’s the problem? You’re supposed to be finding his match.”
Zara tipped her head back and groaned. “He’s irritatingly thoughtful. He came to rescue me in the bar when he thought the singer was being a little too handsy, and tonight he came out to the alley to make sure I was okay. He wrapped his jacket around me because I was cold, and then he gave me a hug. He’s got a sense of humor when he lets his guard down. And he’s so sexy, Parv. The way he looks, the way he walks . . . the confidence . . . that ass . . . When he almost kissed me, he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.”
“If he’s got all that going for him, why does he need a matchmaker?” Parvati fiddled with the blue ribbon around the neck of one of her plush bears. Over the years, they’d increased in size, each lover trying to outdo the rest.
“Maybe he’s lonely. He mentioned his mom wanting him to find someone. I don’t think he’s really taking it that seriously. He keeps saying he isn’t interested in anything long-term. We have that much in common.”
“So, sleep with him. Scratch your itch and move on.” Parvati tossed the bear to Zara and she caught it in her arms.
“I don’t even know if he’s interested. Maybe he was just messing around. And what if he’s my kryptonite, Parv? What if I really fall for him and it kills me?”
“I think you’re being overly dramatic, but fortunately your best friend is a medical professional. I’ll be here to make sure that doesn’t happen. Now can I go to sleep?” She lay down and pulled the duvet over her head.
Zara squeezed the bear to her chest. “Parv?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“Am I too much?”
Parvati pushed back the cover. “What do you mean?”
“Do I talk too much? Am I . . .” She hesitated. “Do I put too much of me out there?”
Parvati’s jaw tightened. “Did Jay say that to you?”
“No. Of course not. I was just wondering . . .”
“You are perfect,” Parvati said firmly. “Exactly the way you are. Your colorful clothes. Your sparkle. The way you light up a room. Your long train-of-thought sentences when you’re excited. I love everything about you and so do your friends and your family. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a loser and not worth your time.”
Zara swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Maybe I won’t wear the black dress.”
“Damn right. You should wear the red one that you wore to your uncle Nadal’s sangeet. I will never forget how he ripped a tablecloth off one of the tables and wrapped you up like a mummy until one of the aunties found a long coat to cover you up.”
“I do look fabulous in that dress,” she mused.
Parvati pulled the covers back over her head. “Wear it. Go to the party and be yourself. Forget about Jay and meet lots of celebrities and have a fabulous time. I’m on the night shift on Tuesday. If you have to call an ambulance, tell them to go to Bay 5. I’ll be waiting.”
• 13 •
Elias was in his element. Thirty minutes into the wrap party and he had already thrown out a trespasser, called the police to pick up a drug dealer, and stopped a zombie attack on the complimentary buffet. Jay hadn’t seen him this happy in years.
“Damn. I missed this.” Elias held a hand up to stop a group of clearly underage zombies at the door. “We should do this more often. Keep up our skills.”
“It does have its appeal.” Jay pulled two zombies apart and confiscated the fake leg they’d been fighting over. After J-Tech’s national expansion, they’d put together a solid team of ex-military specialists to deal with the on-site guarding work so they could focus on running the business. But Jay had to admit—as he rescued a zombie hooker from slipping on a pool of fake blood—that he missed being part of the action.
He checked the door again for Zara. He’d moved too fast in the alley, assumed too much. Hopefully, they could go back to being . . . what? Friends? He didn’t want to kiss his friends. He didn’t fantasize about them in the shower at home until his blood ran hot and the water ran cold.
About to walk away, he spotted Zara by the cloakroom having a heated discussion with a zombie bride who was checking coats. His breath caught when the bride stepped to the side, giving him a glimpse of Zara in a curve-hugging red dress that left her back bare but for the crisscross of thin red straps. She looked beautiful, sexy, and the sight of her made his pulse kick up a notch.
Shut it down. He put the brakes on the runaway train of lust. They’d agreed what happened in the alley was a mistake. With the international expansion so close he could almost taste it, Zara was a distraction that he couldn’t afford. Even this deal to find him a match was time he would never recover. And for what? Someone to accompany him to business dinners or to occasionally warm his bed at night? He didn’t need a partner, and she deserved someone who shared her energy and passion, someone as vibrant and alive, someone who could be there for her in the way he could never be.
