Chapter Five
Judah was probably overreacting. No, he was definitely overreacting. But even that knowledge couldn’t stop him from tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, waiting for Arielle Becker to get her drink from the bar so they could have this conversation in person.
When she finally turned around, bright red drink in hand and a skinny brown straw between those infernally distracting lips, he caught her eye immediately and beckoned her to join him away from the crowd.
“Why, Judah,” she said in a terrible Scarlett O’Hara accent as she moseyed over. “If you wanted to get me into a shadowy corner, all you had to do was ask.”
“Is anything not a joke to you?” he growled, forcing his gaze on some point over her shoulder so he wouldn’t get distracted by the way she was toying with the straw between her teeth. “What the hell was that before?”
“What are you talking about?” She sounded genuinely confused, which only irritated him further. “Oh, you mean the wave and kiss? God, Judah, yes, that was a joke. One of the bridesmaids accused me of flirting with you—”
“We were not flirting,” Judah cut in, his cheeks heating, aware he sounded mildly deranged. “I mean,” he said in a more normal tone, “you know. You were there.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Judah, I’m aware that the idea of flirting with me is a fate worse than death for you.
Point is, she clearly wants to bang you, and I didn’t feel like letting her take her sexual frustrations out on me, so I joked that we were dating.
I thought it’d be obvious I was kidding because, well, you know. ”
“I do know,” he confirmed, even though those infernal lips were rendering his brain a little fuzzy.
Again, he mentally cycled through all the ways they didn’t fit, all the boxes she wouldn’t have ticked on that questionnaire—dressing modestly, being shomer negiah—those were things he cared about deeply …
he was pretty sure. Besides which, who knew what else she didn’t observe?
Maybe she didn’t keep Shabbos, or kosher, or both.
The life she wanted probably didn’t look a single thing like the one he did.
“Right, so anyway, they took me seriously, and then you waving back helped, so thanks for that.” She grinned cheekily and took another sip of her fruity-colored drink.
“You can’t actually be mad about a stupid joke.
Come on, no one would ever believe we were dating in real life.
It’s just a high-emotion kind of event, and people are being tense and ridiculous. ”
“It was childish,” he said childishly.
“I don’t know about you, but I was not dating as a child.”
Okay, yes, all of this was an excellent reminder of why a pretty face did not equal a suitable …
well, anything. He would probably go out of his mind within three minutes of tea and Diet Coke with her at the August. Exhaling sharply, he turned on his heel and made to head back to the stage.
If he didn’t get away from this woman immediately, he was going to spontaneously combust in more ways than one.
Unfortunately, he’d barely taken a step before she called his name.
“What?” he asked, turning back with the molasses pace of a man who knew he was going to regret it.
“Don’t you even want to know which bridesmaid is hot for you?”
He really, really didn’t, especially since he knew which one it wasn’t. “I don’t date where I work,” he said flatly.
Something flashed in her eyes. Confusion? Understanding? Both? “Noted.” She smirked around her straw. “I’ll just have to work extra hard to keep my hands off you then.”
He turned back around before she could see the flames positively licking at his face and stalked off toward the bar, in dire need of a glass of ice water.
But then she was in his face again, all trace of her infuriating smirk gone.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop sexually harassing you.
But this is bringing me so much joy. Look at them. ”
Against his better judgment, Judah followed the direction of Arielle’s subtle nod, and indeed saw a crowd of furious bridesmaids gossiping as they watched them.
He was relieved to see the bride wasn’t among them; she had the aura of someone who would absolutely fire anyone who took attention off her on her big day.
But Arielle was right—they were definitely watching the two of them, definitely pissed, and definitely jealous.
It was not the worst feeling he’d ever had.
“I have to keep this up for the night,” she said gleefully. “Come on. Just tonight. You know no one will believe this by morning. There must be something I can give you in exchange for cooperating.”
Judah thought he might choke on his tongue. “This is completely ridiculous. You know that.”
“I do. Does it help if I tell you I absolutely do know that?”
He sighed heavily, already hating himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Just tonight, just these bridesmaids—and only because I heard the bride snap at you before. No posting on social media, and—”
“No touching, I know,” she said quickly, pressing a hand to her heart as a smile spread across her face. He absolutely despised the way it made his heart flip in his chest. “You’re the best, Judah. Wow, talk about a phrase I never thought I’d be saying.”
“This was an extremely short-lived romance.”
She started to reach for him, and he braced himself for the feeling of her fingers wrapping around his arm, but then she seemed to remember the “no touching” rule he’d never instituted in the first place.
“Hey, no, come on. Just gimme one smile, like you’re actually happy to see me.
Or whatever it is you do to indicate affection. ”
Ouch. Double ouch, seeing as he didn’t actually know. “How about I just go back to the stage and do my job?” He paused. “I’ll wink at you during ‘Brown Eyed Girl.’”
She furrowed her brows. “But I don’t have brown eyes.”
Oh, he knew. But pretending he hadn’t been drowning in the eyes she did have during this entire conversation was the closest he was going to get to having the upper hand, so he simply winked and walked away.
By the time Judah got home that night, he was seriously contemplating never leaving his apartment again.
Arielle Becker had been complete and utter torture for the remainder of the night, even when she wasn’t looking at him.
Never in his life had he wished he’d had the foresight to wear a chastity belt to a wedding, but that evening had made a serious argument for one.
He’d had to hide behind Mikey and his sax more than once.
To make matters worse, it hadn’t taken long for Judah to figure out which bridesmaid was interested, because she spent half the third round of dancing—the one set wholly to English music—wriggling and writhing a few feet away from him while clearly trying to catch his eye.
He was exhausted just being in her presence, and he never even found out her name.
He kicked off his shoes, tossed his jacket over one of the dining chairs, and headed to his fridge for a beer.
Despite his exhaustion, the late hour, and the fact that his bed was right there, Judah knew sleep was anything but imminent.
Even if he could manage it, he’d probably have a mess of weird dreams that he was not eager to endure.
What he didn’t understand was why Arielle Becker was taking up space in his brain.
Okay, so she was attractive, but all her waves and secretive smiles and little dance floor shimmies were part of some silly ruse, not something to keep replaying in high definition.
She’d been very explicit that she wasn’t flirting, and if his brain understood that, why couldn’t his body?
He shook his head, as if it would wipe all the memories clean like an Etch A Sketch, and grabbed his laptop.
Though avoiding admin work like the plague was usually his MO, nothing would distract him quicker than boring himself to death with business inquiries.
He undid his first couple of buttons and carefully extracted his cufflinks while waiting for the typical ten to fifteen new emails to filter in.
But they didn’t stop at fifteen. Or twenty. Or thirty.
“What the…?” He leaned closer to the screen, scrubbing a hand over his face before taking a swig of beer as message after message filled his inbox: Interview Request. Collaboration Proposal.
Gala Invitation. Inquiry. Just a note from a fan.
And even I know the PERFECT girl for you.
Judah was about to shut his laptop and bury himself under his covers when a single subject line caught his eye.
Interview Request from Noted magazine.
Noted. The magazine Judah read all through high school. The magazine he dreamed of being in when he was a tween in Kol Sasson, taking weekly guitar lessons on Uncle Donny’s hand-me-down acoustic. What could they possibly want to interview a Modern Orthodox Jewish wedding singer about?
He clicked it open.
Hi, Judah,
Hope you’re having a good week! My name is Sarina Rogerson, and I’m a writer with Noted magazine. I’m a huge fan of yours and fascinated by both your past musical history and current rise to fame, and I’d love to chat with you about it if you’re up for it.
He skimmed through the rest of the note, which was mostly logistics and background on the magazine, and though his skin got a little clammy at the idea of drawing even more attention to himself, there was no way he could pass up an opportunity to talk to Noted.
But he still wasn’t sure what there even was to talk about.
How could she be a huge fan of his? His Chanukah album was already a couple of years old, and his singles were all in Hebrew.
Was this really based on that one silly video?
Mikey’s voice came back to him from the night before. It’s cute you think there’s only one video …