Chapter Twenty-One
E ven though the townhouse looked to Leah like Gabriel Brucker’s from the outside, the inside was completely different. This wasn’t cool and modern, but warm and colorful. Like a collection of comic artists had made the walls their playground.
Adding on to the effect, each room seemed to be filled with art in a way that just matched. Colors and sculptures and photographs, books and other random pieces were all over the space, and plastic figures lined some of the walls. Leah wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she’d spent most of her life shoving herself into spaces she was unsure of. This was no exception.
The party space itself was great: two divided sets of couches, with an easel in the middle, with wide-open wooden doors that led to a dining table set family style, huge plates at the center.
This was going to be interesting. And she was so glad she’d come. “Those sneakers are killer.”
Leah turned around only to see a young woman in front of her. The woman’s jewelry was gorgeous as was her smile. “Thank you,” Leah replied, grinning. “I don’t get a chance to wear them often, but I figured this group would appreciate it.”
“Jamie Sawyer,” she said. “My husband’s on the other side of the room, refusing to wear the crown I bought him on principle.”
This was the birthday boy’s wife. Got it.
“Leah Nachman,” she said, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Jamie replied, thankfully shaking the hand Leah offered. “Who are you with?”
“Samuel,” she said. “Liam is his mentor. He worked on the logo for Tzedakah Exchange?”
“Oh my God, Jamie,” interrupted another voice. “That is the worst question you could possibly ask. I mean the first real date I had with Isaac was at Liam’s actual birthday party that Isaac threw at his place. She could be with nobody, someone who’s a crafter or artist in her own right, or with someone for the first time.” And then the woman paused, shook her head. “Sorry. I have neither tact nor manners. I’m Sarah Lieberman. I…”
Sarah Lieberman.
Lieberman rang a bell.
Who was she…? Why did the name ring a bell?
“Leah Nachman,” she said, deciding introductions would be better than thinking she’d dive into connections.
“Leah. Wait.”
Yep. The curly-haired Sarah knew someone. Maybe Judith, maybe her brother? Liv?
“The name Nachman sounds familiar,” Sarah continued. “Are you related to the Judith who saved Tony Liu’s life?”
And there it was. This woman knew the inside story of what happened when Judith had been working as a departmental assistant at the Wall Street firm. Which means she could know anybody, but Leah would put her money on her knowing Judith’s boss.
Either way, whoever she was, the woman had asked a question that deserved an answer. “That’s my sister. I have a little less to recommend myself with.”
“Interesting,” Sarah said. “And the guy?”
“I’ve known him forever,” Leah replied, deciding honesty was the best policy when this woman was already worried she’d stepped over a boundary or two, “but this is actually really only our…third date, so it’s fine? Really.”
Which wasn’t accurate, but would do; these people weren’t keeping score.
Were they?
That’s so cool,” Jamie said.
“Very,” Sarah replied. “Liam told Isaac that there’s a guy here tonight who did posters for my favorite author’s series and my ketubah, and he’s here. And I’m going to meet him.”
“Just want to make sure,” Leah said. “What series is that again?”
“Well,” Sarah said after a bit. “She’s my second favorite author really. Melanie Gould’s series, the Goldstone Saga?”
“That’s Samuel,” Leah confirmed. “He’s the one who did the posters for the series. And he’s also doing my sister’s ketubah.”
“Extremely small world.”
Leah nodded, excited to speak to these women a little more, glad to find people within Samuel’s circle she could talk to. So she followed Jamie and Sarah across the room toward the bar area. She took the cup Sarah gave her and reached for a pitcher marked Shirley Temples. As she lifted the pitcher, she poured herself a drink, making sure there was enough ice. “You want anything?”
Sarah, at that point, was standing in front of her, holding a glass filled with something blue. “A Pictionary partner who isn’t going to drive me nuts? Maybe?”
They clinked glasses and Leah smiled.
“I don’t draw but I’ll do my best.”
“That is all I can ask for,” Sarah said.
Which made Leah even more excited.
She was going to be able to find friends in his friend group, which was important for many reasons she didn’t want to think about. And so many that she did.
*
Samuel followed Liam through the house in awe. He barely recognized the place where he’d come a few times already to play cards.
“This setup is amazing.”
“Friend of mine set it up,” Liam said, shrugging, slightly embarrassed. “Best use of space is what he said—some kind of flow and design stuff. I don’t get it. But how goes it so far?”
“Getting the lay of the land,” he said. “Seeing who’s here.”
“I told you a small group ,” he said with a smile. “Your girlfriend’s already making friends with Sarah and Jamie.”
“I’m glad,” he said. Because seeing her grow roots within his friend group made him feel things. “Worried about losing in Pictionary but if it’s for the greater good, you know?”
“Yep,” Liam replied. “Oh I get it. Ties. Threads, connections are so much easier that way.”
Threads. Threads tying him and Leah closer together, roots of things and ideas. “Very much so,” was what he said to Liam. Is there any big…plan?”
Liam laughed. “I take it you meant something about the birthday-related festivities?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Is there…some kind of schedule?”
“We’re not doing cake because Oliver refused birthday trappings.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow. “Is that usual?”
“For Oliver? Possibly. Attention isn’t his thing, so we’re just hanging out like a normal average everyday group of people having a party. Dinner first, then Pictionary.”
“With Isaac Lieberman casually sitting in the corner?”
“He does that,” Liam said. “But we all have our moments. But also, happy birthday, Oliver.”
“Happy birthday,” he said as Oliver joined him.
Oliver, the birthday boy, grinned. “Thank you. Thanks for coming.”
“Dinner soon,” Liam interjected, taking over the conversation as the host would be expected, “then Pictionary?”
Oliver nodded. “I think we’re going to go down in Pictionary.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean we ?”
And of course that was when Samuel felt both Oliver’s and Liam’s eyes on him. “Uh…”
“You can write…”
“Writing isn’t drawing,” Samuel said “I’m not good at drawing. I’m horrible at it.”
“But you’re reeeeally good at writing…”
“I’m not ambidextrous either,” he admitted.
This was going to be interesting. And he looked forward to every second of it.
*
Leah’s stomach was about as full as her heart; the food Liam had served was amazing: pasta, meatballs, barbecue ribs he bought from the restaurant who catered Judith’s Bat Mitzvah, and the inevitable Greenblatt’s Knishes.
“You having a good time?”
She smiled. Samuel had come up to join her as they left the dining room. She’d been sitting and chatting with Jamie and Sarah, strategizing for the game in ways that she hadn’t prepared for and yet was thrilled about.
“I am,” she said. “Thank you.”
“For?”
He raised an eyebrow, but she understood. “This is fun, and I realized I’d said I would go, but I’m glad you said you’d bring me.”
His smile built a warm fire in her stomach. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Dinner was good?”
She nodded, stepping closer as he put his arms around her. “Yeah. Really good. You ate?”
“Mmmhm.” He laughed. “I thought of you when I saw the Greenblatts box.”
She snorted. “So many Greenblatts in my life, I cannot get away from them.” And then she looked up into those eyes of his. “They were my comfort food.”
“Now you know the inside scoop?” He paused, and she knew whatever he was going to say would be funny. “Or whatever you call the behind the scenes in knish world.”
The laugh arrived out of nowhere even though she expected humor. The force of giddy joy exiting her mouth sent her forehead to his shoulder. “I don’t know why it was so funny,” she said once she’d calmed down enough to lift her head and look up into his eyes.
“The delivery,” he replied. “Dry as old parchment.”
“Probably.” She paused and took a chance, following a random thread of conversation in her head, an idea she hadn’t expected to want. “Do you want to get out of here or…?”
Of course, she’d known the second she got the question out of her mouth that for him, leaving wasn’t going to be an option. This was professional networking as well as personal friend circle, and Pictionary was the highlight of the evening, it seemed, a long-standing tradition he’d clearly never been invited to.
Except it said something about her that she needed to ask him to leave, creating if not acknowledging yet another of the tangled, tied threads pulling on her and toward him.
To his credit, he didn’t say no immediately; the fact that the power of her request was enough to consider it for even a second meant more to her than she could articulate.
Because, quite simply, she couldn’t offer the same to him. When her work called, she couldn’t say no. There were people depending on her to fix the problem that had come up when she got the call. People’s livelihoods were on the line when she got the call. And she always needed to answer.
“I need to play,” he finally said, his response both inevitable and predictable. But the strain in his eyes was not.
Did he think she was uncomfortable? Did he think she wasn’t enjoying herself as much as she’d said?
“I know…” he began, the words slowly emerging from his lips. “I know you’re making plans to play too? Are you?”
She nodded. “I am,” she said. “A team with Sarah and Jamie—we’ll see how that goes. I don’t think any of us can draw.”
He laughed. “I think that’s the fun of this, maybe?”
She nodded.
“Maybe we can go after the game?”
“Sounds good,” she replied. Even though he held her, then took her hand as they headed to the area where the game was set up, there was something in the back of her mind that worried her.
Things couldn’t be this good, could they?
She wasn’t sure, but she figured the best thing she could do was to follow along and enjoy it.
*
Samuel was beyond thrilled. He was sitting with his mentor, professional contacts and friends. He had a seat at the legendary Pictionary game, something he’d hoped for a long time he’d get to do.
And to add icing on the cake, Leah was sitting across the way from him, sending him grins and having a grand old time of her own.
The only thing was that he wished she was closer, on his team, going back and forth with him, guessing together.
But she’d already been claimed before he sat down, which meant he was sitting between Oliver and Liam.
If he’d been asked six months before if there had been anything that he’d wanted more than sitting next to Liam and Oliver at a Pictionary game, he say there’d be nothing.
Okay. Even then, in the back of his mind, in his wildest dreams, he never would have thought this scenario was possible.
And yet, now, here he was, living it.
He gazed across the room at Leah, meeting her gorgeous blue eyes with his own, watching as the grin on her face came to life, the wink following it, making promises he was excited to keep.
“You have a good one,” Liam said with a smile.
“I do,” he agreed.
And in the silence that followed, he heard a buzzing noise. “You have bees?”
Liam shook his head. “Nope. That’s Buzzus phonus , not any bees we know.”
Samuel nodded, before turning in the direction of the noise, only to stop at the expression on Leah’s face. She was biting her lip, and the seconds passed before he realized what was going on.
The buzzing noise had been Leah’s phone. And someone was trying to get in touch with her.
Insistently. Because the phone would stop, and then start again.
She sighed, then looked at him.
She looked helpless, and so Samuel nodded, whether she needed his encouragement or not.
Because the pattern had been repeated at least three times.
As if the nod from him was the okay she needed, Leah reached into her pocket, pulling out the device as it started buzzing again.
There was something in her expression as she turned, something that felt like an inevitability. He felt the tug on the thread between them, and he wondered what was going to happen as he watched her pull her phone from her pocket, glancing quickly at it.
Time stopped as he waited, wondering what she saw on the screen, what she needed, from him, what he had to do.
Instead of joy and relief, the surprise and annoyance in her expression as she turned back toward him told a different story. “I’m getting a call in about two minutes that I need to take,” she said.
There was resignation and upset in her voice, as if she also felt the pressure on the thread between them. He nodded, turning to Liam. “Is there somewhere she can be private?”
Liam nodded. “Office is down the hall to the left. Look for the original art Shadow Squad poster on the wall,” he said, gesturing at Leah.
She stood and headed down the hall, making his heart clench.
He hoped everything was okay. More specifically, and more importantly, he hoped she was going to be okay. After dealing with whatever this was.
“Relax,” Oliver said. “Whatever it is, you’ll deal with it.”
He nodded. “Right,” he said.
“Right now,” Oliver continued, “focus on the game. She’ll tell you what she needs when she’s done.”
Considering Oliver was happily married to a woman with a demanding creative career of her own, Samuel nodded, taking the advice. He’d be there for Leah when she was ready to talk.
*
Leah followed the directions Liam had given her and walked down the hallway, turning into the room just to the right of the large Shadow Squad poster.
She was struck with the inevitability of the situation. The second she found herself relaxed in the moment with Samuel, believing that a future was possible, the Empires called.
She’d never been so upset to receive a work call in her life.
She’d never been so upset to be right in her life, but the foreboding held her close.
She walked into the room, turned on the light and sat down on the closest chair.
“Leah,” said the gentleman she’d been trying to get in touch with for the last week, “we need to talk. And we need to do it privately and quickly before the news gets out.”
This was unconventional, but this was Carly.
They needed an iron-clad contract before the world found out that the mystery team in the deal Carly signed a few years before were the Empires. Before the world found out that the Empires were officially signing a woman to an MHL contract. The kind of contract that would guarantee a woman would actually see minutes in net during an MHL game.
Five years ago, this decision would be easy. Five years ago, she’d leave without a second thought.
Now, she was leaving, and she knew why she was leaving. But now? Now she also knew what she was leaving behind.
More specifically, not just what, but who.
“Send a car,” she finally said. “Send a car to my location.”
“Will do,” the gentleman replied.
And as he ended the call, Leah headed out of the room and toward her fate.
With every step she took, Leah began the process of locking her emotions away; the very last thing she wanted was to let Samuel see how badly leaving was shaking her. She didn’t want him to offer to come with her or something ridiculous like that.
This was work, not the occasion for a romantic rendezvous.
Leah didn’t have the space in her life to devote to a real romantic relationship of any sort as it was. She’d finish Carly’s contract and then end the relationship and the contract.
“What’s up?” he said as she walked toward the group.
“I have to go,” she said, doing her best to convey how sorry she was. “I’m so sorry. It’s an emergency.”
She was prepared for the sad expressions, but she wasn’t prepared for the support she saw in Samuel’s eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”
Leah shook her head. “It’s…I have to go,” she managed, trying her best to hold back the emotions she thought she’d zipped up before she came into the room. She didn’t fight him as he put his arms around her. Just put her head on his shoulder, let him comfort her, let herself be comforted for the last time.
And when she lifted her head as the phone buzzed in her pocket, she met the warmth in his eyes.
“Gotta go,” she said. “I’ll call you when this gets settled.”
He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her hand before letting it drop.
But two steps to the door, she stopped, turned around, and followed the path of his cheekbones with her fingers, and kissed him.
This time, when she left, she closed the door behind herself, got into the car and drove away.