The Singles Table, page 8
“I know they’re competent adults who can find their own partners.”
“Jay.” She sighed. “Do you always have to be such a grump?” She tore her naan in half. “I matched Tarun and Maria and many other happy couples. This wedding season, I intend to help a few more sad singles find their happily-ever-afters.”
“Did you ask them if they want you meddling in their lives?” He bit into a tender piece of lamb. The korma was seasoned to perfection.
Her smile faded the tiniest bit. “I’m guiding, not meddling. What I do takes a lot of skill.”
“There is no skill involved in saying A, meet B.” He was not usually so disagreeable, but he enjoyed baiting her. Not just because she was always up to the challenge, but because it meant she wouldn’t jump up to talk to other people. Although it made no sense, he wanted her all to himself.
“I’m not talking about introducing two random people like the aunties do to rack up their wedding rishta scores,” she snapped, her temper rising. “I get to know the person so when their perfect match comes along . . .” She threw open her arms and Jay ducked from the blow he saw coming. “BOOM. It hits like lightning. True love.”
“No such thing.” He added a spoonful of mango chutney to his plate. “The romantic idea of love involves sacrificing the self with no expectation of reward. We live in a world where people are inherently selfish, which means true love cannot exist.”
“Oh, Jay.” She patted his arm. “To be so naive . . .”
“I’m a realist,” he said. “People get together because of shared interests and not because of whimsical romantic ideals. There is no magic or chemistry. There is no such thing as true love.”
His mother said she’d fallen in love with his father after seeing him across a crowded room, and look how that had turned out. If his mother hadn’t entertained such romanticized ideas, she never would have married his father only to be abandoned nine months and one baby later.
Zara nibbled on a piece of naan. “I can sense your despair. Don’t worry. I’ll find someone for you, too.”
He felt his stomach muscles twisting in a knot. “I have neither the time for nor the interest in a relationship.”
“Finally, we have something in common.” She held up her hand. “Give me a high five. Singles forever.”
He felt a stab of guilt when he gently slapped her palm. He’d made a promise to his mother to make an effort to find a partner. But he couldn’t take what he couldn’t give, and he had nothing to offer after the devastating accident that had ended his time in service.
“What about you?” he countered. “A matchmaker who believes in true love but plans to stay single forever? I believe that’s called an oxymoron.”
“I believe in love and romance for everyone else.” Zara shrugged, her smile fading. “I have a serial-dating habit and poor judgment when it comes to men. The last guy I was with was secretly married and had a kid. Relationships just aren’t for me. My life is already full with family, friends, and theater. I’ve also just started a new job at a law firm, and I need to stay focused so they’ll keep me on as a permanent associate.”
“You’re a lawyer?” He supposed it made sense. There was a certain theatrical element to court, and Zara was outgoing, intelligent, and clearly not afraid to speak her mind.
“I’m with Cruz & Lovitt. We specialize in personal injury.” Zara pulled a stack of cards from her purse and handed one to him before passing them around the table. Jay had never seen a professional card with a tiger on it before, but it suited her.
“I’ll keep it on file.” He tucked the card into his pocket.
“I wanted to be an entertainment lawyer.” She gave a resigned smile. “It didn’t work out. I did give my card to Chad Wandsworth last weekend and he said he liked the tiger. I’m hoping one of his celebrity friends gets seriously injured—purely for professional reasons—and he says, Hey, you should call the tiger firm, and then I’ll have a celebrity client, which is one step closer to my dream.”
“I work with celebrities all the time.” He was having trouble concentrating on his words with her leaning so close. She smelled of honey and cinnamon and the sweet treats his mother used to bring home every Friday from work. “My company provides personal guarding services to foreign dignitaries, billionaires, politicians, sports teams, movie and Broadway stars—”
“Movie and Broadway stars?” Zara grabbed his tie and yanked him forward until they were almost nose to nose. “Names. Give me names. Who have you guarded? A-list? B-list? Anyone from Hamilton?” Her full attention was on him now and it was hard not to get pulled into the depths of her liquid brown eyes.
“Our client list is confidential.”
“Did you work for Lin-Manuel Miranda?” She tipped her head back and gave the kind of groan he’d only ever heard from a woman between the sheets. “What was he like? Tell me. No. Don’t tell me. We’re in public and I can’t be responsible for what might happen if you do.”
His mouth opened but no words came out. He’d convinced himself there was no chemistry between them. But now, with her face only inches away, he was almost overwhelmed with the desire to taste the curve of her lips.
“C’mon, Jay.” She leaned close, the gold flecks in her eyes sparkling, her voice a husky purr that he felt as a throb in his groin. Had he ever met a woman with eyelashes so long? He could swear that every time she blinked, they swept over her cheeks.
“Just one name,” she pleaded. “One itty-bitty little name for me to fantasize about when I’m alone in bed tonight.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, slow and sensual. “Or even better, an introduction. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Jay swallowed hard, loosened his collar. Need, tightly controlled, began to unravel. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but the words came out just the same. “What do you mean worth my while?”
“What do you want, Jay?” Her breath whispered against his cheek. “What is your greatest desire? World domination? Ten glamor models in a limo? Your own island? An endless supply of samosas? Six blue silk ties? A perfectly balanced set of accounts? A night of hot sex, no strings attached . . . ?”
His mouth went dry. “Are you offering to sleep with me for an introduction?”
Shock chased horror across her face, putting an instant chill on his desire. “I didn’t mean me.” She gave a hollow laugh. “I’m not that desperate.”
His jaw dropped. Was she serious? “You think only a woman who’s desperate would sleep with me?”
“No,” she said quickly, her lips flattening in a grimace. “I meant I’m not so desperate for a celebrity introduction that I would sleep with someone to get it.” She tilted up her chin. “But I could find someone for you if that’s what it takes . . . whatever the cost.”
He stared at her aghast. “You’re going to hire a hooker?”
“Jay.” She heaved an exasperated sigh and fell back in her chair. “Why do you always think in extremes? I’m a matchmaker. I can find you a match.”
“For a hookup?” His brain was still stuck on “hot sex” and wouldn’t let go.
A slow smile spread across her face. “I can do better than that. I’m going to find your perfect match. It will be my ultimate challenge. I will save you from the time-consuming perils of the dating pool and a life of singles table loneliness, all for the low, low price of a simple celebrity introduction.”
Jay didn’t need a match. He didn’t need a girlfriend or a wife or even a hookup. Work was all consuming. His goal was almost within reach. Loneliness was a small price to pay for success. But he’d made that promise to his mother, and now the woman who had shot him in the ass was offering him a way to fulfill it.
He couldn’t deny she had piqued his curiosity. And it wasn’t just about a match. She had touched something inside him. Something he had buried beneath the darkness that woke him night after night. He could feel when he was with Zara. She had crashed into his life like a hurricane, and after years of feeling numb inside, he was tempted to ride out the storm.
“Hello? Jay? Are you in there?” She rapped his head with her knuckles, and every nerve ending in his body fired at once. “Do we have a deal?”
Even as he hesitated, his betraying mouth was forming the word, “Yes.”
“Yessssss!” She pumped her fist in the air. “This is going to be fun. I know that word isn’t part of your vocabulary but by the time I’m done with you, it will be.”
“That sounds like a threat.” Why had he agreed to this? He didn’t want “fun.” He didn’t even want a match. Maybe she’d put something in his wine.
“It’s a promise.” She bounced in her seat, her enthusiasm almost infectious. “I need to get to know you better so I can find your perfect match. Why not enjoy the time we spend together?”
“Can’t I just fill in a form with my details and you find someone with similar interests?”
With a sigh, Zara shook her head. “Jay. Jay. Jay. My matchmaking inventory consists of people I know. I’m not going to hook up a friend or relative with some random dude I just met at the singles table.”
“I’m not some random dude,” he huffed. “We met at paintball and then again at the sangeet. We’ve been sitting here talking all evening. I’m a simple man. You’ve seen all there is to see.”
“I’ve seen the surface. Now I need to see what lies underneath.” She gave him a broad smile. “Don’t look so worried. I won’t take up much of your time. Maybe two or three interviews at most. How about Wednesday afternoon? I’m in settlement meetings Monday and Tuesday, superior court on Friday and Wednesday morning—”
“My lawyer will be in superior court on Wednesday morning,” Jay said, interrupting. “We’re trying to get a case against our company thrown out of court.”
“Perfect. “I’ll come to your office Wednesday afternoon and you can tell me about the kind of woman who rocks Jay Dayal’s world.”
Jay had no idea what kind of woman would rock his world, but the prospect of spending time with Zara alone was not unpleasant. Maybe there was a woman out there who could handle the darkness inside him.
After a quick number exchange, she stood and lifted Aphrodite’s head. “I’d better go and turn this in. I told the manager I’d look after it until after dinner. Do you want to give her a kiss for luck?”
“No.” He tipped his chair back, holding up one hand to ward her away.
“Just one kiss.” She took a step closer and tripped over his foot, falling against him. With reflexes developed through years of military training, he caught Zara as momentum carried them crashing to the floor.
It was only seconds after they hit the ground that he saw a familiar face looking down from above.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Jay.” She lifted an eyebrow. “If I’d known you were going to have so much fun, I would have sent you to the singles table years ago.”
• 8 •
The problem with handing out business cards at big events was that sometimes people crawled out of the woodwork with the oddest stories.
“What was it this time?” Janice asked after Zara had seen her father’s third cousin’s husband’s sister’s niece out the door. The firm receptionist was adept at playing Candy Crush on her phone while pretending to work.
“An Oops, I left it in the body cavity medical malpractice case,” Zara said. “That’s the second one today. What’s my next appointment?”
“Check the online calendar. I’m trying to finish the level here.” Sixty years old, Janice had been fired from her last three law firms because her crude, salty personality and eclectic sense of style had offended the clients. Lean and ripped from intense daily workouts at her local gym, her long hair dyed golden blond, she wore a low-cut pink T-shirt that read, Don’t lick the pole, from her days as a dancer at the Big Banana strip club on Broadway Street. With only a few years to go before retirement, Janice wasn’t about change, but Tony and Lewis were all about giving people a second—or in her case, fourth—chance. Everyone at Cruz & Lovitt had been hired because they had nowhere else to go.
Zara glanced down the hallway. “Tony is coming.”
Janice dropped the phone onto her lap, morphing from hard-nosed to helpful in a heartbeat. “How can I help you?”
“Next appointment.”
“Taara Patel. I’m guessing she’s another one of your relatives coming for”—she glanced over her shoulder at Tony and raised her voice—“free legal advice. What did you do? Set up a billboard somewhere?”
“I passed out hundreds of cards at a wedding over the weekend.” She folded her arms. “Why do you always give me such a hard time?”
“Because nothing ever bothers you,” Janice gritted out. “It’s not normal. Bad shit happens and you just keep smiling. Someone needs to scratch that Teflon coating and show you the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”
“I know exactly what the world is like,” Zara said. “I’m a child of divorce. I’ve lived through multiple self-inflicted catastrophes, lost two jobs and multiple boyfriends. Just because I choose to stay positive, doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“Who’s a bad person?” Tony asked, catching the tail end of their conversation.
Lifting a brow, Zara glared pointedly at the phone in Janice’s lap.
“No one.” Janice forced a smile. “We’re all good here. Good people. Good times.”
Zara briefed Tony on the case on her way back to her office, highlighting that costs might be an issue if the case went to trial. A contingency arrangement in which the firm would receive a percentage of any settlement or judgment at the end of the case was the only option.
“While I appreciate your strong family values,” Tony said, “we are running a business here. We need clients who can pay.” He pulled out his lightsaber and swished it through the air, filling the hallway with the light and sound.
“Are you threatening to hurt me with your toy lightsaber if I don’t bring in paying clients?” Zara already knew he was going to let her take the case. The lightsaber came out only if he was in a good mood.
“It’s not a toy,” Tony said curtly. “It’s a fully functioning replica. And of course I’m not threatening you. That would be illegal and a violation of the state bar’s rules of professional conduct. I simply had a desire to get in some practice at the same time we were having a conversation about the importance of balancing paying and nonpaying clients.” He flicked the lightsaber off and spun it around his thumb before holstering it like a gunslinging pro. “However, because I just won a bid on Han Solo’s belt buckle from the original Star Wars, I’ll let you take the case on a contingency basis.”
“Thank you.” Every new case was another step toward making her position permanent, and she was always grateful for a chance to help out family.
“Well done for bringing it in,” he continued. “I always love a good Oops, I left it inside lawsuit. When the case is over, you can add the scissors to our trophy jars. We’ve got sponges, retractors, clips and clamps, suction tips, gauze, forks . . .”
“Forks? How would a fork get inside a body cavity?”
“Who knows? Maybe the surgeon got hungry in the middle of the operation. I know I always get a craving for steak tartare when I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy.”
Prepared to meet one aunt, Zara was surprised a short while later when Taara Auntie arrived with Lakshmi Auntie and Mehar Auntie in tow.
“I like your new office, beta.” Mehar settled into the chair in front of Zara’s desk. “And that man out front in the green hat.”
Divorced at thirty-five and now a teacher and Bollywood dance instructor after a change in career, Mehar was always on the lookout for eligible single men. As usual, she was stylishly dressed, her makeup perfectly applied, and her hair cut to accentuate her heart-shaped face. By contrast, Taara looked tired and harried, no doubt from chasing after her two boys. Lakshmi, the family astrologer, wore layers of mismatched clothing, her long hair braided down her back.
“He’s not good for you,” Lakshmi said. “I had a bad kiwi for breakfast. It means men in green hats should be avoided.”
“You just want him for yourself,” Mehar huffed. “And the bad kiwi just means you don’t know how to pick fruit.”
“Stop fighting, you two.” Taara Auntie settled in the seat beside Mehar and handed Zara a Tupperware container. “I made a special fusion dish for you. Curried Tex-Mex sauerkraut pickle sea bream surprise.”
“It sounds delicious.” Hand trembling, Zara took the container. Everyone in the family knew never to eat Taara’s concoctions. Zara had heard a rumor that cousin Daisy’s fiancé Liam had actually eaten a full portion of Taara’s infamous shark stew, but she didn’t believe it. “I’ll have this for dinner. I was planning on working late so now I won’t need to order in.”
Taara beamed. “Such a good girl.”
“I knew she was going to be a good girl when she was born on a full-moon night.” Lakshmi Auntie tugged on her braid. “But her path is not an easy one. Many hills and valleys. Many dark shadows. I did see a goat in Potrero Hill the other day with one green eye and one blue and that means the undead will help lift Zara’s burden. Also, kumquats.”
“Or your vision means that one of the city’s grazing companies has reintroduced the employment of goats to eat their way through the invasive vegetation,” Mehar said dryly. “And possibly people are introducing exotic fruit into their diet.”
Lakshmi bristled. “Goats are well-known purveyors of the future. The kumquats aren’t connected. They have their own path.”
“Okaaaay.” Zara raised her voice to cut off the runaway conversation train that was heading in a direction she didn’t want to go. “So, what can I do for you?”
