Chapter Five
T here was so much going through Samuel’s head on Tuesday morning as he headed toward the subway. He hadn’t fully processed the weekend’s events, and he knew there’d be more when he saw his brother.
It was a quick walk to the office space his brother rented, and the summer air wasn’t that oppressive yet. The air conditioning blasted out of the office building as he opened the door, making Samuel long for the sweatshirt he’d forgotten back in Queens.
But he now was in Manhattan, hoping his brother would be some degree of sane with the temperature. Unfortunately, the second he opened the door, all he saw was his brother, harried as usual in a sweater, random scattered scraps of paper all over his side of the office and at least three coffee cups. “You look like you belong in December,” he said, still longing for his sweatshirt.
“Don’t ask me to turn it down or turn on the heart. This is as warm as I could make it.”
Which didn’t bode well for him later. “Thanks,” he said.
“I assume that thanks is for managing most of the aftermath of the expo yesterday.”
Samuel looked up to see an expression on his brother’s face that meant business. “How did it go?”
“Going through the information, I logged a few more ketubah commissions than normal, and some requested mezuzahs. You also got an email from the poster people.”
The poster people—the company that had requested his services to letter the Goldstone Saga posters. Could they want another poster or—?
But all he said to his brother was: “Yeah?”
“They want you to sign the Goldstone posters at comic con, and gave you a pass for yourself and a guest. Tommy and I are busy.”
Signing at comic con.
Wow.
Like the people who lettered for the comic publishers, like BP.
Wow.
But all he managed in front of his brother was: “Interesting. I’m in.”
“Good. And yes. I saw the email about the logo. Some awards event.”
Which meant Liam must have emailed his business email, and that meant it was serious. “Yeah. It’s for Liam so I need to block time on my calendar. Any things I should watch out for?”
Aaron nodded. “One of the ketubahs has some interesting design notes, which are a little…bonkers even though I negotiated them down.”
“Really?”
Aaron nodded. “You’ll see it when you look through everything.” And then he paused. “Not much else happened after the hot sofer announced he had a girlfriend. Especially fascinating was that the girl is Leah Nachman.”
“I…” He paused, doing his best to explain the situation to his brother. “I was desperate.”
The smug expression on his brother’s face was expected. “Desperate and hopeful?”
That was his brother. “Desperate first,” he said. “But then I once I realized what I’d done, I was hopeful.”
“Why are you hopeful, exactly?”
Samuel tried to piece his feelings into coherent words. “I treated Leah horribly all those years ago. And I feel like it’s important to apologize for what happened. I did her extremely wrong in a very public manner, Aaron. And this…seeing her at the expo and at the gallery last night? It has to mean something. All of this might be my only chance to do as much healing as she’ll let me do. Fate, bashert…whatever it is, I’m being given a chance. I need to take it.”
Aaron replied with a deep belly laugh that made Samuel feel three inches tall. “Are you kidding?”
“No.” At least he thought he wasn’t.
“You have to listen to yourself, brother of mine,” Aaron continued. “Because that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. This isn’t a Yiddish drama or one of those HeartPix movies. You and Leah were a toxic high school disaster. Both of you should be over this by now. She’s probably living her life, having processed this already, like an adult.”
“The breakup and the reasons for the breakup were toxic,” he replied, focusing on the word that stuck out like a sore thumb. “Not to mention, I haven’t seen her since then. Until now. This…us coming back into each other’s orbits, wasn’t an accident, Aaron. And I didn’t want to make it a missed opportunity.”
“Interesting, but I disagree. The whole thing was a toxic disaster even though we didn’t use those words back then. And you haven’t seen her because you and she didn’t work together as people. You were clinical. You’re…flat; she’s tough and so you ended up toxic.”
His brother was usually a good judge of people and their personalities, but he’d never expected to hear Aaron talk about Leah in ways that made it clear he’d never understood her, which wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have with Aaron, ever. Now he settled for the most important thing. “No matter what, we’re now adults and I’d like to heal things because I have the chance.”
“You know what I think?” Aaron asked.
“No,” Samuel replied, knowing he was going to hear his brother’s thoughts whether or not he wanted to.
“You’re going backwards instead of forwards and not focusing on the big picture. You’re succeeding in business. Judith’s ketubah is not bashert. Do your job. You’re getting more commissions and you’re getting more successful. Don’t blow it.”
Samuel nodded, but this situation with his life and with Leah was much more. And he had no desire to explain to Aaron some of the other intricacies that surrounded him and Leah, the things that seemed to be pulling them closer despite themselves.
But more importantly, it wasn’t Aaron’s assessment of the situation he had to focus on; it was Leah’s and the email she’d sent him.
*
Leah adjusted her blazer over her dress and stepped into her heels.
Armor.
Her makeup and hair were perfect. The papers she’d pulled together the night before—the ones that brought tangible proof of what she contributed to the agency—were organized in a binder.
Now she checked the time.
She was ready.
She left her office and headed to see Gabriel ‘Call me Bruck’ Brucker. He was the head of the agency, and had been her boss and mentor for a long time. He’d held the door open for her when she left to go to law school, smoothed the path when she’d come back. Now she was ready for the next step.
At 10 a.m. sharp, she knocked on the door of his office.
“Come in.”
He sat relaxed behind his desk, smiling up at her. “Leah. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Bruck,” she said. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”
“Of course. We’ve known each other a long time.” He paused and she met his eyes across the desk. “What’s on your mind?”
Right to the point. She sat down on a chair in front of his desk, put the papers on her lap. “The future.”
“I see,” he said. “How’s the women’s sports angle going?”
“I’m enjoying it,” she said with a smile. “Five years after I signed my first clients, they’re thriving. The segment of the industry is giving so many female and female-presenting athletes ways to succeed, more than they ever have.”
Gabriel smiled, tapping his pen against the ink-covered blotter. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said, preparing herself to say what she needed to. “I’ve demonstrated to you that I’ve been an asset to the agency, and I very much appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this thing you’re asking?”
“If you don’t, I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she said. “Because what I want is to give back. I want to help to use my name and connections to build the agency further.”
“What are you asking for, Leah? Be very clear.”
“My name on the stationery. I want partnership.”
She watched the older man nod his head, glancing down at his blotter before looking back up at her.
“Interesting,” he said. “And you’ve thought this through?”
“I have,” she said, gesturing toward the papers. “This is what I bring to the table, a roster of men’s and women’s clients, dynamic potential. High-profile.”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad you’ve asked me about this, because I’ve been thinking about it. But this is a pretty big decision. Being a name partner in an agency is life-altering. So this is what I want from you before we think about moving forward.”
This was not a no. This was definitely not a no. But what was it?
“Okay?” she said, as if she needed to confirm her interest before he continued the conversation and told her the requirements. “What do you need?”
“Outline document. Pluses and minuses,” he said ticking off the points on his fingers. “Things your current clients need, what you need to be able to provide them those things, leaving time for both old and new clients and your own breathing space. Because when you’re a partner, work-life balance won’t exist. So back to your office, pull it together by the end of day.”
This was what he wanted?
Easy.
Leah had gone through all her paperwork before coming in for this meeting, so pulling this information together would be simple. “I’m on it,” she said. And then she paused. He didn’t have to make it that straightforward, but he had. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “But this isn’t going to be a walk in the park. In fact…”
She looked up at him. “Yes?”
He was tapping a date on his calendar. “Are you busy on Thursday?”
Thursday. Everybody in the city knew what was on Thursday: Bruck’s annual get-together. Some of the city’s movers and shakers, gathering for a small cocktail party that he and his wife hosted at their townhouse in Manhattan. “No,” she said, trying to hold herself together. Because there was only one right answer she could give. “I’m not.”
“Good. I know you have a life, but you probably know my wife and I hold a small cocktail party every year: ten people. Some people, some clients, and their significant others. I’d like to see you and your significant other there this year.”
“I’d love to,” she said without thinking.
“Good. I hoped you’d be able to make it. You send me your personal email and I’ll send you the details.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Looking forward to the email.”
And as she left the office, her excitement turned to trepidation. She needed a significant other to bring to that party. Which reminded her of the crazy idea she’d had last night while watching the drama.
Because she had a call with Samuel at five.
He owed her.
Which meant she was about to suggest the most ridiculous thing she could think of and ask the ‘ hot sofer ’ if he wanted to make them a dating contract.
*
At 5 p.m., Samuel dialed the number Leah had given him. He had no expectations and had spent the better part of the day trying to remind himself of that.
Except when Leah answered the call, she didn’t greet him with ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’ What she did say was: “I need your help.”
Which was great. “I actually need your help as well,” he said, “but what do you need me for?”
“I need the presence of a boyfriend without actually having one. So I need to fake-date you.”
“So,” he ventured, once he tamped the fireworks of his emotions down. “You’re asking me because I pulled you into the wild situation at the expo?”
“Partially. This is a way to fix the mess we made with this whole thing in my family. But also I need to bring a significant other to a work function.”
“What kind of work function?”
“Are you familiar with Gabe Brucker’s annual cocktail party?”
She said it like he was supposed to know what it was. He didn’t. “No,” he said. “Sorry.”
“It’s a cocktail party, thrown by my boss and his wife at their townhouse. He’s been throwing it for years, and this is the first time he’s invited me.”
“Nice.” And then he paused, remembering something she’d said either at the expo or at the gallery on Sunday. “You’re a sports agent, right?”
She paused. “Yes,” she said. “I am. Hockey if you’re curious, men’s and women’s.”
“So you did what you meant to. Congratulations.”
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this now,” she said after a while where he wondered whether she was going to respond at all, “but sure. We don’t need any emotional trips down memory lane. This whole thing is…professional. What did you need?”
“Significant other at a work function,” he said, speaking quickly so that he didn’t lose her, “maybe crowd control at comic con. But also…”
“We need to get this in writing,” she said, cutting him off at the pass. “Equal in terms of events. Code of conduct. Expectations.”
“How we deal with our families?”
“Yes,” she said, as if he’d somehow come up with something surprising. “Families. Professional obligations and contracts.”
“Speaking of contracts,” he said in an attempt to change the subject, “have you heard of the Unicorns? It’s a girls learn to play hockey program out of Westchester.”
There was a long pause and he wondered what was going on. “Leah?”
“I have,” she finally said. “What’s going on?”
“My mentor—he’s hired me to do letters for a logo for something to do with the program. And you work with women’s hockey, which means you probably know about girls’ programs, so I figured I’d ask.”
“Let’s talk about that more this week,” she said. “What do you need to put together a contract?”
He could say a lot, try to get all the information over the phone like what she seemed to be aiming for, but that wasn’t the point of this. At least for him. The point was to spend time with her, learn who she was now. And maybe try and get her forgiveness. “How about we hammer out the specifics of the contract in person?”
“Don’t you need private space to write?”
He laughed. Privacy was important, but she was actually asking him to make them something. It would be something that required her input and his in a way that would not only shape the document itself, but also the form it would take. Which meant nothing he would be doing could would be private. “We have to talk specifics, because this isn’t a ketubah.” He paused, giving himself a second to think. “Can you come to my apartment this week?”
“Don’t you have a space in the city you work at? I don’t want to have to trek all the way out to…”
“Queens. Where do you live?”
“Manhattan.”
He snickered. “Still call it the city, hm?”
The sound of her answering laugh melted his insides. “You can take the girl out of Briarwood but can’t take years of living in Briarwood out of the girl.”
“Right. So, Queens?”
She paused. “Fine. I have a late day tomorrow. I’ll come to Queens.”
“Urgency?
“Yeah.” She paused and he wondered if she’d finished talking. “Party’s Thursday.”
This was urgent. Right. No wonder why she was agreeing to come to his apartment. “So I’ll see you tomorrow and I’ll be your boyfriend on Thursday.”
And when she hung up, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, or more importantly, how to calm his racing heart.
She was coming.
They were doing this.