The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(25)

“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.