Ezra 6.
“How’s my favorite daughter-in-law?" Uncle David asks Moshe when he finally arrives in the war room after dinner. He didn’t return with Seril after her breakdown and judging by his disheveled clothing I’m going to guess they worked things out. Or he fucked the fight out of her and left her napping.
Moshe’s mouth turns up, his eyes darting over his dad’s head. “Good. Very good.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you gave her a good weinering,” Jonah waves his hand absently, “Can we get on with the purpose of the meeting tonight?”
Zilv spins in his seat and eyes Jonah with a raised eyebrow, “You got somewhere to be?”
“Yes, I have my own weinering to deliver.”
Zilv lifts a shoulder, “Fair enough.”
Moshe takes his seat at the head of the table, and gestures toward Yakov. “You have something to tell us?”
Yak nods, meets my eyes with a grimace, and says, “Per Ezra’s request, I looked into the identity of a woman he…crossed paths with—”
“Fucked in an elevator after breaking a man’s neck.”
I smirk at Jonah’s correction, “Made her cum twice before we reached the lobby.” Immediately, my smirk fades at the grunt from my father. He has many grunts, depending on his mood; this one is disappointment and it’s justified. I shouldn’t have spoken about her like that. I dip my chin in his direction to let him know I understand.
“Yakov held the elevator, giving you an unfair time advantage.”
“Boys,” Uncle Morris snaps.
I glance up and catch Moshe’s stare. “You like this woman?” I shrug unsure how to answer. “Like” seems tame… “obsessed” would be more apropos. “Before Yakov explains what he found, are you sure you want to hear about her from someone else?”
“She could tell me, but I can’t find her unless Yakov tells me what he knows.”
Moshe shakes his head, “Ok, but how much do you want him to tell you? Her last name, address, investment portfolio, food allergies, date of last menstruation?”
“Dude.” Zilv and Tevye pretend to gag. They are gonna make a couple of ladies absolutely…fucking miserable.
“I get what you’re saying, Avinu, I’d rather learn about her organically…if I was interested in her like that.” My head snaps forward from the force of my father’s hand on the back of my head. “Ow!”
“Stop being a douche canoe. You had Yakov find her for a reason, you’ve avoided your entire family for over a week, and you’re basically living at the office. Own it like a man.”
“Fine!” I meet Moshe’s gaze and tell him, “I want her. And I need the information Yakov has, to find her and make her mine.”
“When she rejects your ass, I want a high-dollar theater quality reenactment with Ernie as the star.” Zilv ends his demand with jazz-hands and my thighs tense in preparation to stand up so I can punch his admittedly handsome mug.
“Goldman.” Yakov says firmly, halting my movements. His jaw grinds, his eyes dark. He’s worried about the family. He only ever shows real emotion, even anger, when something or someone is a threat to the Kosher Nostra.
“Why is that name familiar?” Uncle David glances at my other uncles and my dad.
“Goldman,” Uncle Morris muses. “Florida Goldman?”
“Miami!” My dad smacks his palm on the table.
“Regardless of your wishes for an ‘organic’ progression to your non-existent relationship with Dorothy Goldman, the information I found is vital to our security.”
“Dottie is a threat to us?” I can’t see it. Admittedly, I only spoke a few sentences to her and spent more time pounding her pussy than anything else, but still…I can’t see that little firecracker being any sort of threat to the Kosher Nostra and the mishpocheh , just my sanity.
“Not directly.” Yakov explains. “Dorothy is the oldest of four sisters, fraternal quadruplets born to Louise Teitelbaum and Hiram Goldman of Miami, Florida on January 13, 1989, after IVF. Goldman is CEO of the Goldman Financial Group, an investment firm and real estate developer founded by his grandfather after World War II. He took over in 1999, after his father died unexpectedly, and since then they have broadened their scope of business practices and allegedly dabble in illegal enterprises, none of which the government is able to prove without a shadow of a doubt.”
Dad sits forward in his chair, a frown marring his face, “He was one of the investors in that resort fuck-up back in the early 2000’s.”
“ Fuck-up ? That’s what we’re calling one of the worst structural disasters in modern history? Over a thousand people died because of greed, laziness, and a basic disregard for human life.”
“I know, Morry, I didn’t mean to make light of it.” Dad raises his hands in surrender. Uncle Morris nods curtly once, his nostrils flaring as he calms down.
“What happened?” Jonah questions the room, my cousins and I waiting for someone to explain.
Uncle Morris exhales, his fingertips tapping on the tabletop. “A huge resort was being privately financed and ground broke outside Miami. Goldman was one of the investors. Faulty workmanship, cheap materials, bribes to inspectors, illegal workforce…from planning to site preparation, to construction. There was an uproar by environmentalist groups, private citizens, even some government officials. Start, stop. Start, stop. Then, one day, boom. The entire site exploded, everything and everyone within the blast-zone was gone, and the ash covered a forty-mile radius, causing all kinds of health issues for those who survived. At first, a gas line was blamed, then it was insurance fraud, then the bodies under the structure were discovered.”
“What?”
“Dozens of bodies buried under the construction zone, having nothing to do with the explosions.” Dad takes over. “Shot, stabbed, decapitated…mostly men, some women and a few children. Goldman and the other investors were investigated, but local gangs were eventually charged, along with some of the construction crew that survived. LEO claimed the gangs paid the employees and illegal immigrants working there to dispose of the bodies for them.”
“Bullshit,” Zeppo spits in outrage.
“They had written confessions.”
“How much you want to bet Goldman and the others paid for those confessions?”
“Doesn’t matter now.” Dad pats my brother’s hunched shoulder.
“And now, Goldman is expanding into Cuba.”
“Fuck,” is echoed around the room as we all let the implications settle. While Cuba has statistically one of the lowest crime rates in the Western hemisphere, it has a seedy underbelly, a troubled history, and a strong connection to crime in southern Florida. And honestly, no successful U.S. real estate developer and investment firm would need to expand into the communist country, unless he was using it as a front for exploring that seedy underbelly.
“Does this change how you feel about Dottie?” Moshe asks me a few moments later. His face clear of judgment.
I answer with a question of my own, “How long ago did Dottie move here?”
Yak tells me firmly, “13 years ago.”
“Is she still in contact with him?”
Yak offers me a close-mouthed grin, “Not in 13 years.”
I turn to meet Moshe’s gaze once again. “Then no, none of this changes how I feel about her. However, it does mean that I need to proceed with caution. Just because he isn’t in her life, doesn’t mean he isn’t a potential threat down the road.” I liked her. I really liked fucking her. But I don’t know beyond that, and she might not either. I keep that to myself, not wanting to disappoint my father again, but I do tell him, “To worry about meeting the parents feels a little premature here.”
Moshe nods. “I understand this is new and you cannot predict what will happen between you and Miss Goldman, however, it is never premature to worry about your own family’s safety.”