Chapter Seven
S amuel’s mind was running all over the place. He’d thrown a bunch of deadlines into turmoil because he needed to finish their ketubah in one shot; it was a process. And by the time he was done, he was running short on time.
Which was, of course, when she texted him with the time he was supposed to meet her to head over to the cocktail party.
In the city? he’d replied.
Which was the weirdest thing to say. But she texted back.
If you can meet me by my office, that’s fine.
If I can’t?
Do you have a space you work in at the city? I mean in Manhattan.
He snorted before texting back; it had taken a few responses for her to pause and think about what she’d been typing. I know what you mean. Stop explaining. My brother’s office is in Manhattan. He rents a space. Where’s your office?
East side, 60th. Your brother’s?
Downtown. Which might be easier for us because you have to sign the contract.
There was a long pause as the dots danced in front of his eyes; once again he debated telling her that the conversation would be better served over the phone. Although in all fairness, he wasn’t sure what she was using their conversation to avoid. Finally the dots stopped and her message popped up.
Let me get the address and I’ll see if that makes sense.
He nodded. That sounds good , he typed before turning back to the flashing cursor on his computer screen.
Luckily for him, that was when his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
It’s going to be a mess, but I guess we have no choice. Send me the address and I’ll see you at 6:30. We’ll go from there.
Sounds good. I’ll be the one in the clown suit.
The dots danced in front of his eyes, and he could almost see the ire in them. Of course that was probably the product of sitting too long, staring at a computer or his list of projects.
If I didn’t know you better, I’d throw the phone through the window. Casual, business casual, please. And socks. Despite way too many ‘fashion experts’ who proclaim socks are a bad idea.
He grinned. Got a bit of a rise out of her, probably too much. But she knew him and knew he’d never ever do that. Which was the point, making her remember their shared history slowly and easily so that she’d be ready to discuss their past. Once that happened, they’d discuss whether or not it was something they could overcome.
But he was getting ahead of himself, trying to plan beyond where they stood. All he needed to do was prep himself for an event and hope to whatever being in the world was in charge that he didn’t look ridiculous. Or act in any way that embarrassed Leah.
Because then he’d lose what he really wanted from all of this, the thing that he was hiding behind some kind of favor to be named later, to ask from her.
An honest, true, real second chance.
*
Leah had absolutely no idea how she was going to survive the evening, but she’d made her choice. She wore a dress she’d been saving, a green halter dress that landed just below her knee. It was a perfect match with a pair of strappy heeled sandals and a bag with a gorgeous bit of green across the top.
Pretty. Put-together and professional.
A quick refresh on her makeup in the bathroom, hanging the garment bag on the back door of her office, quick fluff of her hair and then out the door to sign what she was calling ‘The Dating Contract’ at Samuel’s brother’s office space before heading up to the party.
So many things were running through her head, but when Samuel opened the door to his brother’s office, her brain stopped.
Wow.
He wore charcoal gray suit pants that highlighted his waist, and a shirt rolled up to showcase his forearms; they even made the traces of ink on his hands look good.
And the color.
Green.
It matched her dress.
Which made her feel things she wasn’t ready to discuss. Instead she glanced at her phone. “We’re running a little tight, so if you…”
He nodded, took the contract she’d committed herself to out of a manila folder, and placed it on the table.
“Oh,” she managed. Because it was gorgeous. Bold colors, red and blue, the center ice of the rink she spent the most time at, covered in microcalligraphy, blank lines at the hashmarks of the ice.
“You don’t…like it?”
Far from it. So far from it that if they weren’t running late already, she would have leaned across the table, erasing the space between them, and kissed him. “It’s gorgeous,” she said instead. “I really, really like it.”
She also liked the shy smile that spread across his face.
“Really?”
She nodded. He was a star on the verge and he didn’t believe it, which was something she valued after years of representing athletes who acted like the world revolved around them because they could shoot a puck. “You’re good,” she said. “You’re really good at what you do. You’re ridiculously talented.”
“I know you don’t like talking about things, but I will say that it means a lot coming from you.”
She didn’t know what had come over her, but she couldn’t help herself. “You’re welcome.”
Just this once, she closed the space between them, let him lean toward her, and kissed him. Kissed him for knowing her, kissed him for making the contract and kissed him for reasons she didn’t want to acknowledge.
When he broke the kiss, she found herself breathless.
“This was…a bad idea or a good idea?”
“It was my idea,” she said, “and I don’t even know the answer to the question, but I’ll tell you that I don’t regret it.”
“I don’t either. Does it change anything?”
She shook her head, even as her thoughts were spinning wildly out of control. “No. It doesn’t. Is there somewhere I can sign?”
He pointed to the long black line at the bottom of the parchment. “Usually we’d need witnesses, but people knowing is the last thing we want at this point, right?”
“Right,” she said, still debating whether she needed to tell Naomi what was going on. But this wasn’t the time; they had things to do. So instead of asking him anything else, she took the pen and signed the contract. And then she capped it before passing it his way.
She watched the muscles of his forearms move as he signed and dated it, making them, and it, official.
Operation ‘Fake Dating the Hot Sofer’ was a go. She didn’t know if she’d survive it, but she had no choice at this point; she’d signed the contract and made the commitments.
“So,” he said, swallowing, breaking her concentration, probably for the best.
She could see the flush run across his face, and she didn’t want to hear him try to explain its origin beyond the fact that it was starting to get hot and humid outside. “Is there anything I need to know about tonight, other than you’re being observed for a partnership or something…?”
“Don’t say it,” she said. “Please. Just…be. My boss, Gabriel Brucker—call him Bruck or Gabe, he’ll tell you which, and his wife will be hosting, so any discussion about partnerships or anything of that matter, are strictly forbidden.”
He nodded.
The relief that settled down on her shoulders was immeasurable. “And be careful of his wife.”
“Why?”
And that was a long story if anything. How could she explain to someone who wasn’t familiar with the situation? “Because every time she meets someone, she tests them. Deliberately and especially. I’m not sure what she thinks of me, so she might express…ideas.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Like what kind of ideas?”
“The sorts of ideas possessed by a fifties housewife,” she said, not even trying to disguise the snort. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. Okay. So I’m acting calm, not pushing back and not pissing off anybody with my ridiculous belief about how people of any gender should be allowed to pursue the career path they want?”
She couldn’t help the laugh that came out of her. “Be careful, because people might get ideas, and start thinking they have options, and that’s never good. And it matters because my boss pays attention to her opinion about people, and she’s testing me because he is.”
He paused and she wondered what was going through his head.
“Okay. I get it. Genuinely on my best behavior with this person.”
“Good,” she said. “Thank you.”
He nodded, and reached out, presumably to take her hand. And because this was a contracted event, because they weren’t actually doing this, but also because she was nervous, she took it. His fingers were warm as they wrapped around hers, the peaks and valleys of his skin were familiar.
“We’re doing this,” he said as he squeezed her hand.
The gesture pulled her back to reality. She nodded, leading him onto the street and toward the subway line they needed. “Yep,” she said. “We’re doing this.”
And as the doors to the subway closed behind them, she held her breath.