The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(49)

“I thought the same about you.” She lay down again, her palm resting on his chest. “Yet here we are.”

“Indeed.” She’d crashed into his life like a hurricane and damned if he could let her go.

He heard his name in the distance. A murmured conversation. The thud of boots and the squeak of leather.

“Jay.” His mother walked into the cubicle dressed in head-to-toe black leather, a motorcycle helmet in her hand. “What happened? Are you okay? Rick and I were out for a midnight ride when I got a call from the hospital because I’m listed as your emergency contact. He’s just parking the bike.”

Zara jerked up and rolled off the bed, landing in a squat on the floor. She pulled herself up and straightened, a stiff smile on her face.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I had a fall at work and I came as a precaution.”

“I’m Zara.” She held out her hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Tarun’s wedding. I was on the floor. With the head . . .”

Jay’s mother shot him a sideways glance, her lips tipping at the corners. “I do remember you. It’s not every day I see my Jay rolling around on the floor during a wedding.”

“We weren’t rolling around, Mom,” he gritted out. “We fell.”

“I brought Jay to the hospital,” Zara said quickly as if sensing the rising tension. “He didn’t want to come, but he hit his head pretty hard on a cauldron, so I thought he should get it checked out.”

“A cauldron?”

“Zara is a matchmaker. She’s helping me find someone to fulfill my promise to you. In return, I offered to introduce her to a few celebrities. We were at a movie wrap party tonight so she could meet one of the actors.”

“Zombies.” Zara held out her arms and lurched forward. “It was the bomb.”

His mother gave a snort of laughter, her eyes glistening with amusement. “It sounds like fun.”

“It was work,” Jay snapped, inexplicably irritated that his mother and Zara had bonded over his humiliating accident. “There was nothing fun about it.”

He could see he’d been too harsh when Zara froze mid-lurch, a pained expression on her face.

“It looks like you’re in good hands, so I’d better get going.” She grabbed her bag and gave his mom a half smile. “It was nice to see you again.”

Before he could apologize, she pushed aside the curtain and walked away. Mouth agape, Jay could only stare at her departing form.

“I really like her,” his mother said.

Jay liked her, too. So why had he pushed her away?





? 15 ?



It wasn’t easy to find potential matches for Jay in a hotel ballroom that held over five hundred guests, but after four days of radio silence, and having convinced herself that a kiss was just a kiss, Zara was up to the task.

“His name is Jay Dayal.” Zara crouched beside Mara Bedi and her mother and flashed a picture of Jay that she’d scraped off his website. “He was a captain in the air force and now he’s the CEO of a successful security company. He’s tall, very fit, intelligent, and well educated. He owns a condo and a car. No pets. No siblings. No family but—”

“No family?” Mara’s mother shook her head.

“It’s just him and his mom.” A mom she’d barely had a chance to meet because she’d been so spooked by her sudden arrival. What had she been thinking? She was supposed to be finding Jay a match, not seducing him when he was lying injured and vulnerable in a hospital bed. His mother must have been appalled by her behavior, and Zara couldn’t blame her. At least she’d been able to put some distance between them and get her head back in the matchmaking game. But despite her best efforts, things weren’t going to plan.

“I’m sure he’s a nice boy, but marriage is about family,” Mrs. Bedi said. “Without family he’s not—”

“Of course. I understand.” Zara stood quickly, trying to fight yet another inexplicable surge of relief. Three attempts. Three failures. Her matchmaking mojo was off. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, something had changed after their kiss, and it was making it almost impossible for her to hold up her end of the deal.

She walked away, her legs stiff beneath her soft net ivory lehenga. She’d decided to go full scandal by wearing a long, white, layered chiffon skirt and a sleeveless red embroidered choli with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, baring an auntie-gasping expanse of middle. An arm full of bangles, giant silver and red earrings, and a thick matching choker completed the look along with a sparkly pair of red stilettos.

“Beta!” Her father stopped her on her way to the bar. Parvati had just texted to say she was waiting with two mojitos and some gossip she was desperate to share. “You haven’t come to visit since the show. I was getting worried.” He gave her a warm hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Just busy with work.” She swallowed her guilt. How was she supposed to visit him after seeing that display? She needed more time to process it. Maybe in another few weeks she’d be able to get over her fear of what he planned to paint next.

“My show was a tremendous success.” He beamed. “I sold most of the paintings and I have commissions to do ten more. And Indra said when your friend Jay stopped by the gallery this week—”