Chapter Eight
Event One: Cocktail party, home of Gabe Brucker
Purpose: Public networking for Leah
Samuel noticed that Leah held his hand throughout the subway ride uptown, and didn’t let it go as they got off the subway, though she would probably argue that it was just because she didn’t want him to get lost.
He didn’t ask her if she was nervous; he knew, as sure as first the sunset of a June evening that she was. And not just because he could feel the sweat in her palms.
The fact she’d reached for his hand said more than any word she’d ever allow herself to say.
“It’s just up here,” she said quietly, as if she knew she was breaking the silence. She wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t expect her to. She was navigating after all.
And then she stopped almost suddenly, dropping his hand to smooth her dress.
“Any last-minute words of advice?” he asked, hoping to break what felt like the rising, thick tension by pulling her back to where she seemed most comfortable.
“Don’t screw it up.”
Which he could have scripted, but all the same he nodded and took her hand back as they headed up the stairs.
The silence was impossible as they walked the stone steps of the townhouse, and instead of letting himself get lost in scenarios that he didn’t know would happen, he wondered if she’d planned to match him.
Regardless, the color of her dress was mesmerizing and calming, which was the best kind of distraction.
At least until they arrived at the top of the stairs and the sound of the door opening altered his focus. An older man with salt and pepper hair and brown eyes stood there smiling. “Welcome,” he said. “Come on in, Leah. And…”
“This is Samuel,” she said.
“Samuel Levine,” he said, offering his hand. The older man took it. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Glad you could make it,” the older man said. “I’m Gabriel Brucker, call me Bruck, and this is my home. Come on in, the both of you.”
He followed Leah and Bruck into the house; it wasn’t a big crowd, probably about as big as the art show he’d gone to with Liam. But yet each of them were professional contacts of Leah and their partners.
And she was stunning.
Absolutely stunning.
He could see the looks in the eyes of a few of the people as she walked in with him, the way she moved in and out of the group, smiling and just…
“She’s a diamond,” an older woman said, smiling. “You should hold on to her.”
He nodded. “She is.”
“Josephine Brucker,” the woman said. “Gabriel’s wife.”
“Samuel Levine,” he said, as politely as possible, knowing Leah’s professional career depended on it. “Leah Nachman’s boyfriend.”
A brief nod, as he followed Josephine Brucker’s gaze toward a crowd. It was as if Leah was holding court amidst a bunch of people.
God she was sexy.
“You seem to be okay with someone like her, someone who’s so driven and so strong.”
He smiled back at this woman, whose view of Leah and her relationships and her chosen career shouldn’t matter…except it did. “She wouldn’t be the Leah I love,” he said choosing to answer Josephine Brucker’s stereotypical views with naked, emotional honesty, “if she wasn’t strong or driven. Women like Leah are rare gems, and I’d be a fool if I didn’t recognize that.”
Josephine Brucker looked him up and down, making him feel like he’d been put under an x-ray machine; thankfully Leah had briefed him in advance. He could see in the cast of Josephine Brucker’s features that she was simply the product of another age, one where she’d been expected to…be something or someone else in order to make someone happy. That, or she’d had her own ambitions or aspiration chopped back by someone she thought understood her the way she deserved.
And yet all the same, once again, he had to remind himself that Leah’s professional future hinged on the outcome of the conversation, and he wanted to say something; he would have, except he could tell that nothing else he said would matter.
Until Josephine Brucker turned back toward him and slowly but surely smiled. “Just be careful,” she said. “A woman like that won’t change her spots once you’re ready to settle down.”
What he wanted to say was that he didn’t want to see Leah in stripes but he settled for something that made more sense. “The spots she has,” he said, “fit her perfectly. Fit me perfectly. Fit us perfectly.”
And the wild thing was that he meant it more than he’d ever meant anything in his life, so much that he wished the relationship was real, that they were real.
But instead of nodding at him, this time, clearly having made her judgment, she looked at him in a way that made him feel she wanted to pat him on his head. “That’s nice, dear,” she said as she walked away.
He wondered if he’d made the wrong decision, but he’d already decided that his penance for the things he’d done in the past was to never let that mistake happen again, to stand up for Leah while contracted to be in a relationship with her, or not, even when she couldn’t hear it.
*
Leah had been deep in conversation with one of Bruck’s longtime friends when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Samuel talking to Bruck’s wife.
She knew this was going to happen; she’d even briefed him on it, and yet all the same it made her sweat where she stood. She desperately wanted to go over, stop the conversation, stop the world, and yet she didn’t. She couldn’t. It would destroy him in front of Josephine and destroy her chances at the partnership she so desperately wanted.
Which meant she had to listen to the older man talk about the interesting things happening with the New York Gothams, as well as a documentary that was filming about the Oakland Elephants. She wasn’t a baseball person, but the story was an easy focus and less about a sport she didn’t pay attention to, and more about the story of the documentary itself.
“I’m going to go and check on my wife,” he said with a smile. “She’s in the corner, getting herself a drink. It was nice.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said as he walked away.
As she tried to figure out what she needed to do next, she saw Bruck’s wife shake her head. Which was a victory in itself. Josephine Brucker’s conversations with people usually ended with loud stinging reprimands that had aftereffects even years later.
Except Samuel had managed to thwart whatever malicious intentions the woman had expressed in a way that wouldn’t permit her to explode like she usually did.
Leah wanted to cheer.
She headed toward the drinks table in search of a reason to cross the room and congratulate him. But as she grabbed a glass of ginger ale, out of the corner of her eye, she heard her name. “Leah? Leah Nachman.”
She turned, only to see Jessica Weiss, captain of the US Women’s Hockey team standing there, grinning.
Jess was represented by another agent, but the women’s hockey world was small and they’d seen each other at different events because some of her clients were Jess’s teammates both in the NAWHL and on the national level.
“Jess,” she said. “This is a surprise.”
“I’m arm candy tonight,” she said with a laugh. “My name wasn’t on the invitation, but I’m really glad I’m here.”
Every once in a while, she’d forget that Jessica Weiss was dating the head of one of the biggest Jewish charities. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I wanted to tell you about the gala,” Jess said.
Leah blinked. There were tons of galas and ceremonies and awards that dotted the intersection between sports and charity. “Refresh my recollection?”
“Bruck has an invitation,” Jess began. “But anyway, in a few weeks Evan and I are hosting a women in sports gala. And we’re honoring the Unicorns.”
“Oh that’s amazing,” she said. And then something clicked; the fact that Samuel had been asking for information about the Unicorns.
“It is. Evan’s even pulling in a favor from his buddy who works at BP comics for the logo. It hasn’t been done yet, but we’re crashing everything so…we had basic invites and are revealing the logo as a sort of…draw for the donation part of the event.”
And that made sense. So much sense.
This is why Samuel needed information about the logo, and why he was going with her to practice on Saturday. Yet another reason she needed to find him.
But none of this, none of the strings that were tying them in tangled ways together, was bashert.
*
After finishing the conversation with Josephine Brucker, Samuel found himself at loose ends, and debated going in search of Leah. Of course she was already in a conversation with someone else, someone he vaguely recognized. Instead, she went to get a glass of ginger ale on the other side of the room.
“Takes a lot to be in a relationship with a strong woman.”
He blew out a breath, turning toward a gentleman wearing a blazer, a pair of black pants and oxfords. “If it’s not as easy as breathing, you’re with the wrong woman.”
The gentleman he was talking to blinked, as if he hadn’t expected to hear the statement the way Samuel said it, and as if there was a bit of awe, if not understanding. “Yes,” the gentleman said. “It’s hard for people who aren’t with the right person. There are difficult moments for sure, but when the underlying conflict is that you want them to be a different person, you’re in the wrong relationship with the wrong person.” He paused and extended his hand. “Evan Lefkowitz,” he said. “My girlfriend’s on the other side of the room.”
And then it clicked. “My mentor is Liam Hernandez,” he said. “I’m Samuel Levine.”
“You’re working on the logo, I hope!” Evan said with a grin.
“I am,” Samuel said. “I’m really excited, testing out things.”
“I’m so glad he convinced you to do this. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Great to meet you too,” Samuel said, smiling. “It’s nice to make the connection face to face.”
“It is, right? I hope Liam hasn’t said anything awful about me?”
Samuel laughed, the weight of making a good impression off of his shoulders. “Just things that make me think you’re a kindred spirit—I also had a picking-grass phase instead of playing goalie when I was young.”
Evan snorted making Samuel, once again, feel right at home. “He’s never going to let that go. Ever. But that’s why he’s my friend, He’s got a good eye though. Keep him close.”
“I was lucky,” Samuel replied. “Lucky that they assigned me to him after design school.”
“He is the lucky one. Says my mezuzah and the ketubah I’m looking at, not seriously, of course.”
And as they continued to talk, Samuel found himself relaxing even more, until Evan looked up and realized what time it was before heading to find his girlfriend, leaving Samuel with a parting ‘see you at the gala. Can’t wait to see the logo.’
Apparently, he had a great deal to tell Leah on the way home. This, he decided, was going to be interesting.
*
When Jess left to usher Evan out the door, Leah took it as her cue to go and find Samuel.
“Hey,” he said.
She held his hand; she wasn’t sure why she felt it was necessary, but she did it anyway. “You’re amazing,” he said as they headed down the stairs of the townhouse, and out into the summer night.
“I…don’t know what happened?”
“You don’t?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t.”
“They love you,” he said. “It felt like you were holding court, you know? Like everybody wanted to talk to you and everybody wanted to see what you were saying. You did amazing and I’m so glad you had me come with you.”
“You slayed a dragon,” she said as they stopped in front of a subway station. “Is this fine?” She gestured to the sign in front of the entrance showing which trains the station serviced. And in which directions.
He nodded. “This is the one I need to get back to Queens. Speaking of Queens, I was in awe of you tonight.”
“You,” she said, bringing the subject back to what was important, “were wonderful. And now I know why you’re asking for information about the Unicorns.”
He nodded. “Yep. I was…talking to Evan Lefkowitz tonight.”
“Of course you were,” she said with a laugh. “You know he doesn’t talk to many people.”
“He and my mentor are old friends,” he replied. “So I had an in.”
“Which was impressive.” She paused, wondering what was happening. “Are you going to the gala?”
The sound of his laugh made her relax. “Yeah. I am. I think Evan wants me there, which is such a weird thing to say.”
“You spend way too much time living in self-deprecation,” she said. “Do you realize how talented you are?”
Unlike so many people she’d encountered, he shook his head. “I don’t,” he said. “And I think that’s the best thing for me. I never want to stop growing, never want to take my work or the opportunities I’m given for granted.”
If nothing else, that made her feel the thread that tied them together and actually admit, even to herself, that it existed. “So,” she said, trying to pull herself back to reality. “That’s why you have a crowd control problem.” Thinking about what going to a comic convention when he was signing was going to be like almost terrified her. “You’re so…genuine.”
“I try,” he said. “I… It’s weird. Finding my place, taking advantage of my opportunities without overdoing it, and remembering why I’m there in the first place.”
“Speaking of opportunities, I guess we’re going to the gala?”
He nodded, faster than she would have liked but in a way that made her breathe, as if she’d been nervous about his answer.
Which made no sense. Then again, nothing made sense about her interactions with him.
Zero.
“I’d like that,” he said. “I’m glad we can go together.”
And that was it.
That was what made her want to kiss him. She could blame it on the night sky, but it was all her and her stupid…whatever that drew her closer to him, her hand reaching up to trace the path of his cheekbone.
“Would you like to kiss me?” he asked, his voice enveloping her like a cloud.
“Yes,” she said, pulling him or the thread closer, reveling in the feel of his breath on her face in the middle of a Manhattan evening, his hands on her shoulders as she leaned into the kiss. She wanted to dive into him, wanted to lose herself in him.
And when she pulled back there was reality. There was the light of the subway entrance, the fact that morning was going to come quickly and she had to be ready for whatever was going to happen. “So…I’ll see you Saturday?”
“Yeah. You’ll text me the details?”
She nodded as they headed down the escalator, and through the gate where they slid their cards through. They stood on the train platform together; the local, not the express, going downtown, so he could switch to the train he needed after one stop, and she could take hers the rest of the way home.
As she watched him get off the train, she found that she didn’t want him to leave, and was terrified to discover that the real problem was that she wanted to be with him, despite all of the complications of a fake relationship and their real history.
She was, in short, in trouble.