Sweat beaded her brow. She tugged open the kitchen window to let in some air, making a mental note to tell Parvati that she wanted a bigger kitchen the next time they moved. Restless, she tidied up the kitchen, washed the dishes, and put the coffee and bagels away, all while Jay sipped his coffee and stroked her betraying feline. When there was nothing left to do, she grabbed her purse from the counter, hoping Jay would take the hint.
“My theater is on the way to your office. Do you need a lift?” After riding in his limo last night, she didn’t know what he would think of her blue Chevy Spark.
“I’ll call an Uber. I got a message from Lucia this morning. She might have found a way to get the lawsuit against our company dismissed. Elias and I are meeting her at the office in a few hours.”
“On a Sunday?” Tony and Lewis didn’t expect their associates to work on weekends unless absolutely necessary.
“Lucia and I both work weekends. Elias won’t be happy, but he’ll be there. She said you gave her the idea to investigate former employees when you suggested it could be an inside job and they’ve found a likely suspect. I’m just glad it’ll be over. We can’t afford a lawsuit on our books. It would destroy any chance we have of getting funding for our international expansion. My dream almost slipped through my fingers.”
She smiled, pleased that she’d been able to help, and even more pleased that they both had somewhere they had to be. “I would have invited you to watch the rehearsal but maybe another time.” It was easy to make the offer knowing he couldn’t come.
“I’ll have to wait for opening night.” He sipped his coffee like he had all the time in the world, like she wasn’t standing in the kitchen holding her bag all ready to go.
Marmalade jumped off Jay’s lap and rubbed against her legs, reminding her that she’d forgotten the most important male in the house.
“It’s not for another three months.” Her pulse kicked up a notch for no discernible reason. “We probably won’t . . . I don’t even know . . .” She yanked open a drawer, looking for a can opener. “You won’t even remember me by then. Wedding season will be over. We’ll be back to our normal lives . . .”
Jay froze, the coffee cup partway to his lips. She tensed, heart thudding in anticipation of his reaction to her subtle hint. He would agree and their night would be just that—one night. Or, he would protest and she’d have to tell him that she couldn’t get involved but she was still committed to finding his perfect someone. Either way she was going to be disappointed.
“I’d better call that Uber.” He put down his cup. “I’ll need to swing by my apartment to change before I meet Lucia.”
Zara let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She hadn’t considered a third option: Jay wouldn’t take the bait.
? 17 ?
“Where were you last night?” Rick looked up from the couch when Jay walked into his apartment. “Did you get lucky?”
It took Jay a moment to come down from the high of his night with Zara to form three coherent thoughts: 1. This was his apartment; 2. He was a grown man who hadn’t had to account to anyone for his whereabouts for almost twenty years; and 3. Rick had made himself comfortable on Jay’s Italian leather couch with his boots on the glass coffee table, a carton of chicken wings on his lap, and Days of Our Lives blasting on Jay’s big-screen TV.
“I have a kitchen,” Jay pointed out. He and Rick had moved past the pleasantries and into bare tolerance after their first dinner together at the food truck. “It has a table.”
“Yeah, got that.” Rick took another wing from the box. “Problem is, your mom’s busy cooking and there’s no room to eat. She enjoyed looking after you a little too much after your head injury. Now she’s convinced you’re gonna starve if she doesn’t fill your freezer.” His lips quirked in a smile. “How’s the head?”
“Fine.”
Rick snickered. “Christ. When I told my buddies you got a minor concussion after banging your head on a cauldron full of zombie brains—”
“Mom?” Jay made a hasty retreat and followed the delicious scents of cinnamon, cardamom, and cloves to the kitchen, determined to convince his mother to dump Rick and find someone with a slightly less biting sense of humor.
“Have a seat.” She pointed to the table with her wooden spoon. “I was just about to grate some coconut on the rava upma. You can eat it while it’s hot.”