Page 115 of Deeper

In total understanding, Zander nodded his head. “Then we’ll go on your dime and I might put out.”

I bit my lip to stop the huge smile threatening to break across my face.

I did love him, I really did.

The food was done and it was time to eat.

At Zander’s six-chaired elegant table in his dining room, we all gathered our seats to get comfortable with the food spread across the tabletop. Zander and I sat on one side next to each other, while Rajaa was at the head of the table on one end, and Paul and Nazanin ended up next to each other across from Zander and me.

Paul and Rajaa had a couple of beers to go along with their meals, while Nazanin and Zander settled on glasses of wine. Me, I opted for a glass of water. If the food was spicy, I would need it.

Before we could dig in, Zander rose from his chair, lifting his glass of Chardonnay. “I just want to take a moment and thank you all for being here, and in my life in general. There are two of you who have been very monumental, and I just want to thank you.” Zander eyed his manager first. “Paul came when I was spiraling towards rock bottom. He heard I was a mess but he stepped up anyway. I’m not exactly the easiest client to deal with—”

“Hear! Hear!” Paul raised his bottle of beer in agreement, causing us all to laugh.

“Okay, don’t be a prick, yeah?” Zander grinned. “Paul didn’t give a shit about the warnings and what other big stars could pull in for him. He saw something in me and believed in me and was willin’ to stick it out. He’s never given up on me, even when I decided not to do a multimillion-dollar tour. I guess what I’m most thankful for is that you’ve had every reason to quit or walk away, but you’ve always held me down and had my back. I love you, mate.”

Paul tipped his beer towards Zander in understanding.

Zander turned towards me. “And Bi, in a lot of ways I’m nothing more than a failure, but when I’m with you, you make me feel like a man. Being a creative in a funk is the worst level of hell, but ever since you came into my life, I’ve been inspired enough to just want to make music with a passion again. What I love most about you is how real you are—you never cared about any of what I have to offer, but for me as an individual. You came up with this Zaturday thing and it’s doing exactly what you said it would. You push me when I’m ready to just give up, and I need that in my life. I’m happy to have you.”

With all eyes on me, I felt myself shrink and blush as I mouthed athank youand raised my water in the air.

Zander came back to the whole table. “I’m at a point right now where we’re embarking on another go with my career. I’ve got the number-one song in the country and I’ve been invited to perform it next month on a big stage. Everything’s falling into place and I’m finally ready to take full advantage of that, so long as I have you all by my side supporting me. I’ve learned that family is everything, even found families, and I won’t take any of you for granted. To family, life, and just happiness. Salud.”

“Salud,” we all mirrored as we clinked glasses.

He settled back down into his chair and offered me a kiss to my temple.

It was time to eat.

The food looked good—different from what I knew and was used to, but definitely something I was eager to try. To experience. There was the wok, orkarahi, filled with the curried chicken Zander had prepared, and a plate full of leavened bread, ornaanas Zander called it, as well as a bowl of rice for those who preferred that instead. I wanted to try eating my chicken karahi with both, so I scooped a good portion of rice onto my plate before grabbing a slice of the homemade bread.

Zander watched with anticipation and notable pride as I made my plate. He was a renown and twice accomplished singer, and yet this was making his day, I could tell. He made no effort to make his own plate as he was too busy being fixated on me.

Rajaa and Nazanin dug right in, already fans of Zander’s cooking, so they wasted no time. Paul was new to the dish just like me. After a few moments of nervous staring, he dug in too.

Zander paid them no attention. His eyes were for me.

I forked off a piece of the chicken with a good amount of sauce and brought it to my mouth for my first taste.

Oh.

The chicken was bursting with flavor—spicy, but not burning hot to where I couldn’t taste the food. It was well seasoned, hints of garlic and tomato blended perfectly together. The gravy-like sauce definitely being something I wanted atop my rice.

“I made it mild, just in case,” Zander told me. “And traditionally, there’re no onions or green peppers in the Pakistani version, but my dad tried it once and I’ve been a fan ever since.”

It was a good call, because the hint of onion had me ready to truly pig out.

The garlic naan was amazing, only increasing my terrible love for carbs. I quickly helped myself to some rice and did a little happy dance. I was really enjoying my food.

Zander squeezed my thigh and began making his own plate.

“So, Zan, what’s the game plan for Saturday?” Paul asked.

“The party’s in Pasadena. We could either all be driven there, or maybe get a suite nearby and make a weekend of it?” Zander glanced around the table for any objections.

I’d requested Saturday off and Sunday to recover. A weekend away sounded great.

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