The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(62)
Jay didn’t think he could get much happier than watching Zara dance around the lobby humming the tunes from the musicals she loved so much. When he was with her, he almost believed she could light up his darkness and set him free.
“If this is your dream, why didn’t you pursue it?” He leaned against the wooden wainscoting beneath a framed poster of Hairspray.
“My family expected me to have a profession—even my dad. I took psychology at college because it was a science, which made them happy, and I thought it would help me become a better performer. At college I got a chance to work with a law professor who brought creatives to campus. I realized I could put my dreams and a professional career together as an entertainment lawyer helping diverse artists in the industry.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“I thought so and my mom agreed.” She ran her hand along the dusty edge of a picture frame. “She helped me get a start at a big-city firm with an entertainment practice, but it didn’t work out. After two jobs and the interview with Lucia, I realized I could never be happy working at a place that stifled my creativity. I still love the world of entertainment. I scream when I see my favorite celebrities. I ask them for autographs. I’m on an alumni committee that promotes diverse artists, and one day I hope we’ll see greater representation in the industry. But I love my new job. I love helping people who have been hurt and can’t advocate for themselves. Dreams can change and it’s not a bad thing. They can be what you make them, or you can live them a different way.”
“My dream is to be successful.” He folded his arms across his chest, watching the dust motes dance on the sunbeams shining through the window. “I want financial security so my mom and I never have to worry about having enough to eat or where we’re going to sleep at night.” His hand tightened into a fist, words he had never shared spilling from the dark secret part of him in a harsh, bitter tone. “Part of me also dreams about sticking it to my old man, who left when I was a baby. If he ever comes looking for me, I want him to see that I made it to the top. That I didn’t need him. I want him to regret that he walked away.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.” Zara slid her arms over his shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “But your mom must be very proud because she raised a strong son.”
Jay held her tight, soaking up the warmth of her body. “She came by this morning to drop off a meal for Sunday dinner because she’s going away on a day trip, and decided to stay and prepare enough food for a family of ten: paneer tikka, dahi bhalla chaat, rajma masala, dal makhani, vegetable korma, chicken karahi, two types of biryani, mango cheesecake . . .” He trailed off when Zara laughed.
“I guess you won’t be ordering in for a while.”
“She was hoping I would have a guest.” He hesitated, not wanting to scare her away, but also not wanting to let her go. “Are you free tonight?”
“You had me at ‘enough food for a family of ten’ but I would have been knocking on your door for a slice of mango cheesecake. Too bad your mom can’t join us. I would love to steal her recipe.”
“She might have come back early from her trip. I’ll give her a call.” Jay swept Zara up in a kiss. “There’s only one thing you should know. Her boyfriend is a biker.”
* * *
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Except for the odd night when Avi and Rishi came over to watch a game, or Elias crashed after a long night out, Jay didn’t socialize at his apartment. That meant Jay didn’t know how to throw a dinner party for four guests. Luckily his mom was on the job.
“You’ve got everything in here,” Zara said, unpacking one of his mother’s sturdy plastic containers. “Napkins, wineglasses, a tablecloth, candles . . .”
“Mom, we didn’t need all this.” Jay took out a saltshaker and four silver spoons. “It’s not like I have nothing.”
“Actually, you do have nothing.” Zara looked out over the breakfast bar to the living room. “You weren’t kidding that day when you told me you only had the bare essentials. It looks like a showroom in here.”
“They usually have some decor in showrooms,” Rick called out from his seat on the couch. “Fancy pots, pictures of flowers, magazines so it looks like someone lives there. I used to work for a staging company, so I know all the tricks. We had eyeglasses that we put in every room, so it looked like someone had just been there all cozied up with a good book. We chose a different color palette for each house. You gotta stick to neutral earth tones or warm shades of white for flow then add a pop of color with the accents.”
“I thought you said he was a biker,” Zara whispered.
“It’s a second career.”
Zara and his mother chatted in the kitchen as they set the table. Zara was always friendly and outgoing, but listening to them together, he liked to think they had a special bond. He hadn’t seen his mother laugh as much in years, and it turned out she had a love of musicals that she had never shared with him.
After the food was heated and ready to serve, they sat at Jay’s small dining table and toasted the meal with a red wine from the Napa Valley his mother had picked up on her day trip.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Zara said to Rick. “Jay mentioned you were a biker but he didn’t tell me you were a fan of the greatest soap opera of all time.”