2
He let his voice trail off. What did he want?
“It’s more like what I don’t want,” he said.
“Okay, tell me what turns you off.”
“I don’t want someone who knows the Fortune name. I don’t want to be sought after for my family’s reputation. And most of all, I don’t want someone chosen by my family.”
A short laugh made him look up.
Naomi blushed. “Sorry, that was funny. Do they set you up often?”
“They certainly try.”
“Unsuccessfully, I gather.”
“That’s being kind,” he grumbled. “One of these days I’ll have to tell you about some of their ‘gems.’”
She smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
He watched her type on her iPad. “All right, let me see what I can work with here.” She paused before continuing. “I heard about your divorce last year. Is there anything from your marriage that you can think of that you might want to change?”
“Other than everything?” He grew solemn. “We grew apart,” he said. “I don’t know whether we ever had much in common to begin with…” Understanding dawned. “Oh, I see your earlier point. Yeah, I want to be compatible with the woman I have a relationship with.” He nodded. “But back to me and Lacey… There could be so many reasons why we didn’t work—having a kid too quickly, wanting different things out of life. I do know there was a lot I could have done better.”
She stiffened. “Like what?”
His throat clogged with discomfort, but he pushed through it. If he was going to change his image, he needed to tell her even the uncomfortable parts of himself so she could help him. “I should have given her more of my time. I was always either working or devoted to Brady. I think she was lonely, and I didn’t see it.” A thought struck him. “You know, maybe you’re right about needing more than just someone who will love my son. Because she’s a great mom, but I wasn’t a good husband, and she ultimately fell in love with someone else.”
A sympathetic smile put him more at ease.
“I should have shown more interest in what she liked,” he continued. “She loves sports, and I do, too. But after a full day of work, all I wanted to do was to relax. She wanted an outlet for herself that wasn’t solely about kids and preschool and her mom friends, and I guess I just didn’t understand.” He shook his head again. “Maybe if I’d been more involved, she wouldn’t have needed to go outside our marriage… Well, anyway, that’s a long way of saying I have a lot I can improve.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been difficult.”
For someone who had spent his life sure of his goals in life, Lacey’s betrayal had knocked him for a loop. He’d always been chosen, whether it was for a date, a team or a school project. Maybe some of that was his Fortune name, but some of it had to be for himself, right? To be found not good enough, well, that had hurt. And it had reinforced his suspicion that he wasn’t good around women. As he’d spent time thinking about what caused his marriage to fail, he realized a lot of the blame was his. And he was determined to do better this time around.
He nodded. “It was, but I spent a lot of time reflecting on what I need to change going forward. My ex and I are on friendly terms. She’s a great co-parent, and we’re both dedicated to Brady’s happiness. That’s why any woman I have a relationship with has to be willing to love my son.”
Naomi smiled, and her brown eyes glowed with understanding.
“You come across as sincere,” she murmured. “I think anyone you date will understand your needs and probably respect you even more for feeling that way.”
He shrugged. “Yet, I’ve gone on multiple dates and keep striking out. I’m either out of practice or doing something wrong. Probably the latter. Which is where you come in.”
“I see. Have you asked any of your single friends for advice? Maybe you just need a couple pointers, rather than an entire image overhaul.”
Shane shuddered. “I can’t ask my family without them volunteering to set me up. Been there, done that. I was thinking of asking my dad for advice, but…”
He’d always thought his parents had a rock-solid marriage, but after his dad came under suspicion for fathering an abandoned baby, he’d learned his parents’ marriage was rockier than he ever knew.
A weird look crossed Naomi’s face before she looked away.
He swallowed. His family was known in this town because of their wealth and status. He hated the hit their reputation had taken with the abandoned baby. Even Naomi had thoughts about it, evidently.
He cleared his throat. “I guess you know why I can’t really ask him.”
When she returned her gaze to him, the weird look disappeared, replaced by the polish and reserve this new Naomi had perfected. “Your parents have been married for a long time,” she conceded. “I suspect things have changed since the last time they dated.”
Maybe she didn’t know about the baby. Or she didn’t think it was a knock on their reputation, even though the allegations against Garth had been proven false. Or, perhaps, she didn’t want to talk badly about his family. Regardless, he wasn’t about to delve too deeply into her feelings about it. He needed her to help him.
“So, how soon can we have our trial date?” he asked.
Naomi looked at her tablet and swiped through to what he assumed was her calendar. “How about next week?”
So long? His stomach dropped. It had taken a lot out of him to get up the nerve to ask her to help him. He’d paced outside her office before daring to enter, and that was after an entire week of picking up the phone to call her, but changing his mind. If he waited too long, he might be tempted to forego the whole thing.
“If that’s the soonest you can do, then fine. I was thinking of lunch,” Shane said. “At Captain’s.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to go to the penthouse restaurant at the Emerald Ridge Hotel? With me ?”
“If we’re going to simulate a date, it should be someplace I would take a date, right? Besides, their seafood is fantastic.”
For a second, she looked like she was going to protest. “You’re right.” She looked again at her tablet. “Actually, if it’s just lunch, I’m free on Thursday at twelve thirty, but I have a meeting at two.”
He smiled, relief washing over him. Putting it on the calendar would ensure she wouldn’t back out. Or him. And if anyone was going to pick apart his image, he wanted it to be someone he knew. “I’ll make the reservation and pick you up.” He looked around. “From here, or from home?”
“From here will be fine,” she replied. “I guess it’s a date.”
“Jean, it would be helpful if you prioritized which tasks are more critical than others,” Naomi said later that afternoon via Zoom. This was her third meeting with one of her most difficult clients, and while focusing on improving the woman’s management style helped keep her mind off Shane, she needed a break.
“Everything my company does is important, Naomi.”
She clenched her fist out of sight of the camera. “Of course, it is. But if you act like there’s always a five-alarm fire, your employees are going to ignore the smell of smoke until the flames burn the building to the ground.”
A terrible metaphor, but one she hoped Jean would finally listen to. Otherwise, she’d have to be blunter. The woman’s publicity firm was in crisis. Her employees hated their boss’s micromanagement style, and the clients were ready to bolt. Jean had hired her as a last-ditch effort, but unless the woman started taking some of her suggestions to heart, there was no way Naomi was going to be able to help her out.
Her throat thickened. Was she somehow losing her touch? She gave herself a firm, invisible shake and reminded herself of the mantra she’d learned to recite after her breakup—she was smart, she was good, and she was enough . Just because Andrew had dumped her and rocked her self-confidence, didn’t mean she wasn’t great at her job.
“My name is on the door, Naomi. My reputation demands that our work be perfect.”
“Your name is your brand. But there’s a difference between associating your name with perfection or misery.” Naomi sighed. “You came to me because you want to improve your brand, your image. Improvement takes change, hard change sometimes.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
Naomi rubbed her eyes and paced her office in her stockinged feet while she waited for a response.
“All right,” Jean said, her tone skeptical. “I’ll make the list.”
She let out a sigh of relief and a silent cheer. “While you’re making that list, make a second list of three to five things you want your brand to be synonymous with. We’ll talk next week and go over them.”
Clicking out of the Zoom meeting, Naomi threw her head back and groaned. She loved her job. She really did. But Jean was the type of client who frustrated her the most. The kind who clearly needed help but was reluctant to accept it. Who expected results but was resistant to put in the work.
Would Shane be that way?
She didn’t think so. He was quick to point out his own faults. She’d asked him about his divorce and expected him to blame his ex-wife. But he hadn’t. She chastised herself for jumping to conclusions and vowed to be more accepting in the future.
A timid knock on the door—one that barely registered—made Naomi swing around and glance at the clock above it. Her new client. Taking a deep breath to cleanse herself from the frustrations of the last meeting, she strode forward and opened the door.
“M-Ms. Katz?” A pale woman with light brown hair stood in the doorway, barely able to make eye contact with her.
“Yes, I’m Naomi. You must be Alfreda.”
The woman nodded.
“Come on inside.” Naomi swung the door wide and held her arm out to indicate the seating area by the bay window of her office, the same place she’d sat with Shane earlier. With an apologetic look, the woman scurried inside and sat at the very edge of the sofa, hands clenched in her lap.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Naomi offered.
“Um, water would be nice, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
She went into the kitchenette and returned carrying a tray with a pitcher of cucumber water and two glasses. She poured the drinks and then sat across from Alfreda, taking in her mannerisms and dress. The petite woman wore a light blue pantsuit that brought out the color of her eyes and emphasized her fair skin. She dressed well. The cloth was expensive, and the suit was tailored to fit her petite frame.
“How can I help you?” Naomi asked gently.
Alfreda’s cheeks reddened as she spoke. “I’ve been working for my accounting firm for two years now. I’ve brought in several new clients, and I’d like to ask for a raise, but I don’t know how. I’ve tried several times, but I chicken out at the last minute, and I was hoping you could help me.”
The woman didn’t need help asking for a raise, she needed more confidence. Insecurity oozed from every pore, and sympathy filled Naomi. She knew what it was like to doubt yourself. Alfreda was a good reminder, though, not to let the insecurity she’d felt after Andrew go too far.
“Okay, Alfreda—”
“My friends call me Allie.”
Naomi liked how she’d interrupted her. She had potential for improvement.
“Okay, Allie, have your bosses given you any performance reviews?”
She nodded.
“And how were they?”
“Positive.”
“Great.” Naomi asked a number of questions—some standard that she asked all her clients and others targeted to Allie’s specific situation. It took some doing to get her timid client to give detailed answers. She leaned toward one- and two-word replies, and she kept her voice low. At times, Naomi had to strain to hear her.
“I think it’s important that you do ask for a raise,” Naomi said. “As women, we tend to undervalue ourselves, and asking for compensation equivalent to our worth is one of the toughest things for most of us to do. But in order to do it effectively, you have to not only ask for it, but believe you deserve it.” Naomi leaned back and crossed her legs. “To that end, I’d like you to put together a list of your positive traits.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Right now?”
“No, before our next meeting. Write out a list of everything about yourself—physical, emotional, mental, occupational—-that is good. And when you come back, we’re going to go over the list together.”
A combination of skepticism and fear made Allie blink quickly. She clasped and unclasped her hands.
“How is that going to help me get a raise?”
“As I mentioned, in order to ask for a raise, you have to be confident that you are worthy of it. We’re going to discuss all the positive traits you possess to increase your self-worth, so that when the time comes for you to ask for more money, you’ll be successful.”
“Okay.” Allie didn’t look convinced, but Naomi coordinated schedules and they made plans to meet again next week.
As her new client left her office, Naomi’s phone rang.
“Naomi Katz, Image Consultant. This is Naomi.”
“Naomi, Garth Fortune here. Was that my son, Shane, leaving your office earlier today?”
Naomi paused. Was he spying on her? “Yes, it was,” she said, jaw tight.
The older man cleared his throat. “I hope you kept our arrangement confidential. The last thing I want is my son knowing what I’m doing.”
She tried not to take offense at his words…or his tone. Men like Garth were the epitome of Texas alpha men and didn’t like admitting to weaknesses. Even if what he was doing was a good thing.
“No, Garth, I’d never tell anyone about you. You have nothing to worry about.”
His sigh of relief echoed through the phone. “Good.” He chuckled. “I guess I still have more work to do on myself. Sorry if I jumped at you.”
She smiled. “Hey, at least you’re recognizing the issue after the fact. Now we just have to get you to prevent it from happening in the first place.”
His laughter boomed across the phone line. “That’s what I like about you, Naomi. You’ve got a great sense of humor.”
“If it helps you to take my advice more often, it’ll continue,” she murmured.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“And I keep my clients confidential.”
The man sobered. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I won’t doubt you again.”
Ending the call, Naomi grabbed her jacket and purse, locked up her office and drove her Jeep to Emerald Ridge Grocery, located on a side street off Emerald Ridge Boulevard. The high-end supermarket offered lots of gourmet takeout, a salad bar, an international section and a delicious bakery. Naomi loved the kosher products they carried. On the way, she called her grandmother.
“Hi, Bubbe, it’s me. I’m stopping at the store on my way to you. What do you need?”
“You know, bubbelah , if you just bought a week’s worth of groceries at once, it would be easier on you.”
While her parents were traveling, Naomi had taken on helping her grandmother out as much as possible. Picking up groceries was an easy task and ensured she could stop by to see her Bubbe as well. She pulled into the parking lot at the back of the limestone-fronted store and engaged the parking brake. “But what if you’re in the mood for fish, and I buy chicken? Or you want something sweet, and I purchase salty?”
“If you buy me something salty, my sodium levels are going to skyrocket, and the doctor is going to yell at me. And I’m going to tell her it’s your fault,” Bubbe said.
“Way to throw me under the bus.” Naomi laughed. “But seriously, with Passover coming up, I thought we could start prepping early. I’ll pick up the matzah ball soup ingredients today.”
“Good idea. And don’t forget the oranges for my citrus olive oil Passover cake.”
Naomi swiped the phone screen to find her grocery app. “Oranges, got it. I’ll be at your place in half an hour. Love you!”
“Love you more.”
The warm feeling carried Naomi through the aisles of the upscale grocery store, the self-checkout lane and all the way back to her grandmother’s charming garden apartment. Bubbe had lived here for most of Naomi’s adult life, led an active social life and was good friends with many of her neighbors.
She traveled the winding walkway through lavender phlox blooms and yellow primroses. The cheerful colors filled her with joy as she let herself into her grand-mother’s apartment. She inhaled the familiar scent of lemony Pine-Sol.
“Hi, Bubbe!” she called.
Her grandmother, whose head reached Naomi’s shoulder, rushed over from the bedroom and squeezed Naomi’s waist. “Hello, bubbelah . I was just dusting the bedroom. Come into the kitchen.”
Naomi followed the white-haired bundle of energy into the modern gray kitchen—the monotony alleviated with splashes of blue and green—and put the grocery bag on the black granite counter.
“Have you heard from your parents recently?” her grandmother asked.
“I got an email yesterday from Tuscany,” Naomi replied. “It sounds like they’re having a wonderful time.”
“Good, good, good. I hope they bring me back some good olive oil.”
“I’ll mention it to them the next time we text,” Naomi said. She pulled out a fillet of salmon and stuck it in the stainless-steel fridge. “That’s for dinner tonight.”
“Wonderful. I’ll make it with some Old Bay and spinach.” She peered into the grocery bag. “You bought more spice, right?”
Naomi held it up. “Of course, I did. I’m surprised you don’t insist on putting it in the soup.”
Her grandmother laughed. “Just you wait. One year, I might.” The woman sighed. “Your grandfather introduced me to the flavor, you know.”
Naomi put her arm around the old woman’s shoulders and squeezed. Even after ten years, his absence hurt both of them. “I miss him, too.”
Clearing her throat, her grandmother reached under the stove for her soup pot. “Enough sadness. Grab the chicken from the fridge, please?”
As they made the soup, Naomi told her grandmother about her day, leaving out Garth Fortune’s name.
“Your business is doing well, bubbelah . I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I’m nervous about this lunch with Shane though.”
“I can see why,” her grandmother said. “That man is gorgeous.”
“Bubbe!”
“Don’t Bubbe me, Naomi. I’m old, not dead. And he is gorgeous.”
Privately, Naomi agreed. He’d been good-looking when she’d gone out with him seven years ago, and the man only got better with age. His face had filled out a little, but still retained his high cheekbones. When he smiled, parentheses formed on either side of his mouth, and his blue eyes glimmered. And when he was serious, like he’d been in her office, they darkened to a deep blue. His shoulders were broad, and his clothes fit him well. In another life, she’d be attracted to him. But he was her client, and their one date had been a hot mess.
Her grandmother nudged her.
“Yes, he’s good-looking. But his looks are irrelevant to me since he’s my client. I’m focusing on his overall image—how he acts, what he says, etcetera. I’m critiquing him.”
Bubbe’s eyes glinted. “All the more reason to admire him, you mean.”
“Ugh.”
Her grandmother’s laugh, which sounded more like a cackle, made her shake her head.
“Not paying attention to his looks. Ha! You’d have to be blind. But seriously, what are you nervous about? You’re a pro at your job. Lots of good-looking men have hired you, even famous actors. Why is Shane different?”
“I don’t know. I’m just…not sure I can separate personal from professional with him. I don’t want to get into the same situation as I did before.”
“Naomi, you went on one date with him years ago, and it didn’t work out. Tell me something. Are you willing to date someone who isn’t Jewish?”
Naomi bit her lip. “You and Mom and Dad have always stressed how much easier a relationship is when both people are from the same religion or culture.”
Her grandmother nodded.
“And I get that. I’m just not sure I’m ready to say absolutely not. Heck, I’m not even sure I’m ready to start dating anyone again.”
“Well, then, this is a business lunch. You’re advising him. I don’t see what the issue is.”
Put like that, neither did Naomi. “I guess because he’s someone I know and have a little history with. Maybe I’m more self-conscious?”
Bubbe patted her hand. “You have nothing to be worried about. You’re beautiful, intelligent, poised.”
“And I’m your granddaughter.”
The old woman laughed. “And you’re my granddaughter. You’ll be wonderful. Now, let’s get started on the Passover baking…”