The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(23)

“She also had many adulterous affairs,” Zara continued to her now rapt audience of singles. “Most notably with Ares. So maybe cutting off her head is a good thing.” She lifted a forkful of biryani. “Did you know her name gave us the word aphrodisiac? Or that her Latin name, Venus, gave us the word venereal for venereal dis—”

Jay cut her off with a raised hand. “Not something I really wanted to think about over a meal.”

“I think about things like this all the time,” Zara said. “My brain never stops. Sometimes I wish it would slow down.”

“Maybe if you just focused on your food,” he suggested, not unkindly.

“Good idea. It’s best when it’s hot.”

If he thought he’d bought himself enough time to eat in peace, he was gravely mistaken. He had managed only one bite of his meal before she began to talk again, keeping her voice low. “What do you know about the two people on the other side of the table? Do they seem compatible? They had a moment there when she choked.”

“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—”