Chapter Twenty
“Ari? Everything okay?”
At the sound of Liana’s concerned voice, Ari blinked at her laptop screen, which was mostly black from her video chat with leadership that had ended anywhere from two minutes to two hours ago.
Was everything okay? She had no idea. She was still trying to process whether that conversation had actually happened.
“Ar?”
Finally, Ari turned in her chair and looked up at Liana, who was standing there in a bathrobe, having scrubbed off a day of kindergarten.
“I just had a meeting with the creative director and the head of KisStory, who are both, like, at my boss’s boss’s boss level, and—wait, did I mention I emailed them after Pesach to talk about promoting me since I basically do Erik’s job already? ”
Liana was very familiar with the Legend of Erik the Terrible, but the rest was new to her. “No, you did not!”
“Okay, well, I did, and we went back and forth a bit, and I thought they were blowing me off, but apparently, they went to HR about it and decided to move Erik into this totally stupid bullshit position—because of course they can’t simply fire the wildly ineffective guy I’m sure makes twice what I do—and now you’re looking at the new editorial manager.
” The words felt deeply strange on her tongue, but they also felt good.
“Ari!” Liana swept her best friend up in a huge hug. “Oh, my God! I’m so proud of you! We have to celebrate!”
“I can’t believe it. I mean, I didn’t think anything would really happen.
I was just trying—” I was just trying not to be the only one who wasn’t moving on.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud, even to Liana.
Or maybe especially to Liana. Her best friend was the one who wore her heart on her sleeve, who made herself vulnerable without a second thought.
But that wasn’t Arielle. Ari was supposed to be the one who braved the storms, not the one who got soothed through them by having someone serenade her with a guitar and spoon her to sleep.
Metaphorically speaking.
“Trying what?” Liana asked, heading for the fridge.
“To make things better for me, Naima, and James.” A half truth. She would be a better boss for Naima and James than Erik, and awkward as the new chain of command might have been, they seemed to think it was worth it.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed with texts from them both, full of celebratory emojis. Ari checked the company Slack, and sure enough, her promotion had just been announced. I guess it’s real.
“I knew these were in here somewhere!” Liana crowed, retrieving two cans of moscato from the stash Ari had put there as quickly as possible after coming home to an alcohol-free fridge post-Pesach. “And do you want to go out to dinner or get takeout?”
“Lee, we really don’t have to—”
“Damn straight we have to! This is a big freaking deal, editorial manager, and we are treating it as such!” She cracked open her can, and Ari did the same. “To my absolutely brilliant and beautiful and talented BFF!”
Ari rolled her eyes but clinked cans with Liana and took a satisfying sip of the sweet, fizzy wine, enjoying the way the cool bubbles slid down her throat.
It was a pretty big freaking deal. Besides, she’d been celebrating friends through engagement parties and bridal showers and wedding after wedding—was it really so ridiculous that she should be celebrated too?
“Okay, fine, I would not say no to a steak sandwich in my honor at Kosher Supreme,” Ari relented.
“Kosher Supreme is seriously the biggest you can dream of for your promotion celebration? Ar, that is sad. That is … exactly what I’d expect from someone who once said their ideal wedding has a ten-person guest list, come to think of it.”
“I stand by it,” Ari said coolly, bringing the can to her lips. “And didn’t you hear me say ‘a steak sandwich’? That is living it all the way up, thank you very much. But I’ll get fries with it if that’ll make you feel better.”
“Obviously fries always make me feel better,” Liana said with a grin.
“But, oh! Speaking of weddings—Akiva asked me if Judah’s girlfriend could stay in my room for Shabbos since I’ll be at Aliza’s, and I said no problem.
You don’t care, do you? I’m sure she’ll just be sleeping here, and I know you’re planning on eating at the guys’ apartment for both meals anyway, so I figured she could just tag along with you. ”
Ari nearly choked on her wine. “Judah Klein’s girlfriend? Is gonna be staying here?”
“I know,” Liana said conspiratorially, clearly having an entirely different conversation about this in her head—one in which she wasn’t squeezing the life out of every single one of Ari’s internal organs.
“Please report back everything. I am so curious. He’s been great to work with for the wedding so far, and I’ll be happy for him if he’s finally found The One! ”
The One. She was, wasn’t she? Exactly what he’d been looking for. Exactly who guys wanted when it was time to “get serious.” Exactly the type you could plan a future with that went far beyond a week of fun. “Well, I’m guessing she’s sweet and lovely and all-around perfect, so good for him.”
“Amen,” said Liana, lifting her can in a toast. “To Judah and what’s-her-face. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful Shabbos.” She took one last drink, then put the can on the counter to toss in the recycling bin later. “Now, come on. Let’s get dressed and celebrate you.”
Ari couldn’t choke down a sandwich at that point if her life depended on it.
How embarrassing was it that he’d apparently found the love of his life five seconds after hooking up with her, while she had been delusional in thinking maybe they were something more?
How infuriating that not only did he forget her immediately, despite the warm reception to her stupid phone call, but now he was rubbing his new relationship in her face?
And how pathetic that she was sad about it when she should’ve felt nothing but rage or, even better, complete and total apathy?
She glanced at her laptop screen, where the announcement of her promotion had become underlined with joyful emojis and replies, and slowly her pasted-on smile turned sincere.
She’d done that. And she hadn’t needed a guy to help her or hold her hand through it. It didn’t matter that one of her first thoughts had been excitement to tell Judah, knowing he’d be proud of her. That was ridiculous, and he was ridiculous, and she was awesome.
“Yeah,” she said, finishing off her wine and placing the can next to Liana’s. “Let’s go celebrate me.”
“Hi! I’m Mira. Thanks so much for letting me stay with you.”
Ari had no idea what to say to the girl standing in her doorway, holding out a bottle of wine. All she could do was blink and dream that if she did it enough times, it would make Judah’s girlfriend disappear. “Yeah, sure,” she finally managed. “I mean, it’s Liana’s room.”
The smile fell slightly from Mira’s face, but Ari couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it.
Mira had a perfect compact frame, hair so shiny Ari could see herself in it, the kind of meticulous manicure prepared to be adorned by a ring at any moment, and—oh, right—Judah; she didn’t need a new best friend too.
Ari showed her to Liana’s room, pointed out the bathroom, and mumbled a thanks for the bottle, which she promptly put away in the kitchen, hoping Mira would make herself scarce as she did.
No such luck.
“So, you’re good friends with Akiva, right?” Mira asked, taking a seat on the couch as if she’d been invited to. “Is it weird I’m a little nervous to meet him?”
Ari barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at Mira’s attempt to endear herself.
She wanted tell Mira to give up, that there’d be no finding kinship here, but she realized this might be the best opportunity she’d have to dig for some dirt.
“You have nothing to be nervous about,” she assured Mira with a sugar-sweet smile.
“Akiva’s the nicest. We’ve been friends for a long time.
And I mean, if Judah’s already bringing you to meet him, you guys must be pretty serious, right? ”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mira said, pink rising to her cheeks in a way that only made her look prettier. “I mean, it’s only been a month or so. But I think so? I hope so. Do you know Judah?”
If by know him, you mean do I know how his scruff feels between my thighs, or exactly where to touch him to make his eyes roll back in his head, then yes, we’re well acquainted. “We’ve met a few times. Mostly at weddings. He’s always very professional.”
Now I know I’m capable of wanting to tear a bridesmaid’s dress in two with my bare hands.
“I’ve seen videos of him performing at weddings,” Mira said eagerly, sounding every inch the starfucker, and again, it took everything in Ari not to roll her eyes.
“He’s so amazing. Every time I hear him sing, I want to melt into the floor.
” She covered her face with her hands. “God, that was such an embarrassing thing to admit. I’m sorry. ”
“No, not at all. Do you get a lot of private concerts?”
“Not yet,” Mira admitted. “He says it feels a little too much like working in his off hours. But occasionally, he’ll play for me. He won’t let me record him though.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Ari bit her lip to hide the smirk threatening to take over her mouth before going in for the kill. “Well, whatever, I’m sure you two find better things to do with your mouths anyway.”
The smile froze on Mira’s face. “I don’t—I mean, we don’t—”
“You guys must have such good conversations.” Ari smiled genially, as if that had been her meaning all along. Mira’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but her eyebrows remained the tiniest bit knitted. “Are you musical?”
“Not really.” She reached for the fringe on the throw blanket splayed over the couch and fiddled with it. “I played piano for a few years when I was younger, but I wasn’t very good. I’m more of a listener. I’ve been a big fan of Judah’s since his Chanukah album.”
God, that freaking Chanukah album. But more to the point, what was it that made Mira so irresistible to Judah that he was introducing her to Akiva?
Yes, Mira was the total package of a Perfect Jewish Wife, but so were plenty of other girls Judah had dated in the past. So if they weren’t hooking up—and it sure sounded like they weren’t—then how the hell had he gone to sleep wrapped around Ari and woken up dating Mira?
“How exactly did you guys meet?” Ari asked instead of the question she really wanted to ask. “I mean, I know it was on the Pesach program in Mexico, but I haven’t heard the story.”
“Oh, there’s no real story.” Mira waved her hand dismissively, but the smile on her face suggested she loved reliving the supposed nonevent.
“I was with my brothers, who knew him from high school. As usual, they were totally leaving me out of their conversation, but Judah went out of his way to introduce himself and be friendly. He didn’t really have any plans for the Seder, so my family invited him to sit with us, and he sat next to me, and we got to know each other. ”
Ari wasn’t remotely prepared for how gutting it was to learn that while she spent the Sedarim imagining Judah at her side, he was actually spending them at Mira’s. The pain was everywhere, gnawing at her stomach and aching in her chest, until she had to excuse herself to lie down.
Letting Mira stay with her had been a mistake.
Keeping the truth from Liana had been a mistake.
But nothing had been a bigger mistake than letting Judah Klein into her heart when she was only supposed to be letting him into her bed.