“I am worried.” Parvati tucked the pillow behind her head. “You seem to be in denial about the fact you’re hot for him despite his considerable list of flaws.”
Zara joined Parvati on the bed. “You’re right. He’s exactly the kind of emotionally unavailable guy I’m attracted to. And then it’s all, Surprise! I’ve got two kids and a wife. And then I’m hitting him in the face with a passion fruit pavlova I had ordered from a bakery an hour away, and his kid is saying, Daddy, who is that mean lady? I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
“So, what’s the problem? You’re supposed to be finding his match.”
Zara tipped her head back and groaned. “He’s irritatingly thoughtful. He came to rescue me in the bar when he thought the singer was being a little too handsy, and tonight he came out to the alley to make sure I was okay. He wrapped his jacket around me because I was cold, and then he gave me a hug. He’s got a sense of humor when he lets his guard down. And he’s so sexy, Parv. The way he looks, the way he walks . . . the confidence . . . that ass . . . When he almost kissed me, he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.”
“If he’s got all that going for him, why does he need a matchmaker?” Parvati fiddled with the blue ribbon around the neck of one of her plush bears. Over the years, they’d increased in size, each lover trying to outdo the rest.
“Maybe he’s lonely. He mentioned his mom wanting him to find someone. I don’t think he’s really taking it that seriously. He keeps saying he isn’t interested in anything long-term. We have that much in common.”
“So, sleep with him. Scratch your itch and move on.” Parvati tossed the bear to Zara and she caught it in her arms.
“I don’t even know if he’s interested. Maybe he was just messing around. And what if he’s my kryptonite, Parv? What if I really fall for him and it kills me?”
“I think you’re being overly dramatic, but fortunately your best friend is a medical professional. I’ll be here to make sure that doesn’t happen. Now can I go to sleep?” She lay down and pulled the duvet over her head.
Zara squeezed the bear to her chest. “Parv?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“Am I too much?”
Parvati pushed back the cover. “What do you mean?”
“Do I talk too much? Am I . . .” She hesitated. “Do I put too much of me out there?”
Parvati’s jaw tightened. “Did Jay say that to you?”
“No. Of course not. I was just wondering . . .”
“You are perfect,” Parvati said firmly. “Exactly the way you are. Your colorful clothes. Your sparkle. The way you light up a room. Your long train-of-thought sentences when you’re excited. I love everything about you and so do your friends and your family. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a loser and not worth your time.”
Zara swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Maybe I won’t wear the black dress.”
“Damn right. You should wear the red one that you wore to your uncle Nadal’s sangeet. I will never forget how he ripped a tablecloth off one of the tables and wrapped you up like a mummy until one of the aunties found a long coat to cover you up.”
“I do look fabulous in that dress,” she mused.
Parvati pulled the covers back over her head. “Wear it. Go to the party and be yourself. Forget about Jay and meet lots of celebrities and have a fabulous time. I’m on the night shift on Tuesday. If you have to call an ambulance, tell them to go to Bay 5. I’ll be waiting.”
• 13 •
Elias was in his element. Thirty minutes into the wrap party and he had already thrown out a trespasser, called the police to pick up a drug dealer, and stopped a zombie attack on the complimentary buffet. Jay hadn’t seen him this happy in years.
“Damn. I missed this.” Elias held a hand up to stop a group of clearly underage zombies at the door. “We should do this more often. Keep up our skills.”
“It does have its appeal.” Jay pulled two zombies apart and confiscated the fake leg they’d been fighting over. After J-Tech’s national expansion, they’d put together a solid team of ex-military specialists to deal with the on-site guarding work so they could focus on running the business. But Jay had to admit—as he rescued a zombie hooker from slipping on a pool of fake blood—that he missed being part of the action.
He checked the door again for Zara. He’d moved too fast in the alley, assumed too much. Hopefully, they could go back to being . . . what? Friends? He didn’t want to kiss his friends. He didn’t fantasize about them in the shower at home until his blood ran hot and the water ran cold.
About to walk away, he spotted Zara by the cloakroom having a heated discussion with a zombie bride who was checking coats. His breath caught when the bride stepped to the side, giving him a glimpse of Zara in a curve-hugging red dress that left her back bare but for the crisscross of thin red straps. She looked beautiful, sexy, and the sight of her made his pulse kick up a notch.
Shut it down. He put the brakes on the runaway train of lust. They’d agreed what happened in the alley was a mistake. With the international expansion so close he could almost taste it, Zara was a distraction that he couldn’t afford. Even this deal to find him a match was time he would never recover. And for what? Someone to accompany him to business dinners or to occasionally warm his bed at night? He didn’t need a partner, and she deserved someone who shared her energy and passion, someone as vibrant and alive, someone who could be there for her in the way he could never be.
Steeling himself against temptation, he made his way to the cloakroom, only to take a step back when Zara scowled.
“Is something wrong?”
“I look—”
“Beautiful.”
“Ridiculous.” She fisted the skirt of her red dress, tightening it around her curves in a way that made his mouth water.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was a zombie costume party?” she demanded. “I wouldn’t have come dressed like this.”
He drew her away from the zombie bride, who had a line of customers waiting to check their coats. “I thought you were here for professional reasons. It didn’t even occur to me that you would want to dress up.”
“This is me we’re talking about.” She pressed a hand to her chest between her breasts, drawing Jay’s attention to an area that was best not thought about in public. “I never pass up an opportunity to dress up. Never. And zombies? Are you kidding me? I have everything I need at home. I was a zombie for the Christmas party at my second law firm. I had rotting-flesh patches, teeth hanging out of my mouth, shredded clothes . . . I was going to bring a spare leg from the morgue, but Parvati said she’d get into trouble.”