Chapter Ten
D inner at Judith’s was the perfect way to take the temperature of the town in the hours before the town meeting. Now that the conversation about the public walk with Artur had finished, Judith and Ash were a friendly source of town gossip.
Not to mention, talking with Artur had made her think about a few things; primarily how ridiculous it was that Asher, as the head of the JHPA, hadn’t been involved in any of the ‘event’ planning previously. Neither by the town nor by the team.
His former team.
Which seemed to bother him a lot less than it would her. But once they were sitting down to dinner, she turned to him. “Would you be willing to work with the town?”
“Of course,” Ash said as he took a slice of the taco casserole, the vegan sour cream sitting just off to the side on his plate. “Definitely. Personally and in my capacity as the JHPA founder.”
“Good,” she said digging into her own piece, sour cream and salsa sitting happy on her plate. “Good to know for the future as things are coming together. I think the Empires are dedicated to making this work.”
“Seems so,” Ash said. “Fixer seems really focused on getting things together.”
“So,” Judith interjected. “What’s the story with the fixer?”
What Judith meant was: ‘you’ve been talking about this fixer for a while, and I know nothing about him.’
“Artur Rabinovitch,” Liv replied, deciding to start with the basics. “He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” Ash said. “Name sounds familiar.”
“Oh?”
Ash nodded. “He might be a friend of a mutual friend.”
And Liv clearly did not miss the glance that Ash gave Judith. The one that usually meant ‘he’s friends with Judith’s boss who also happened to be Ash’s mentor and co-conspirator.’
“So,” Judith clarified for Liv’s benefit, “is he the one my boss recommended? You know, to Leah when she was looking for a crisis PR person to recommend on behalf of a client of hers?”
Apparently the only way to answer that mess of connection was “Yes?”
“I see,” Ash said. “Speaking of connections, do you still want to come and speak at the mentorship program?”
Which was both a merciful change of subject and a reminder. Liv had offered to speak at the holiday party for the mentorship program Ash and his mentor were running for high school kids. As someone who spent a lot of time doing community service, she felt it was important for kids to see the impact local government made. “Absolutely,” she said. “Give me a date so I can block off the time.”
“Excellent,” Ash said. “Though I wonder…”
“What?”
“Maybe the kids from the program can participate in the event too, you know, some active examples of community service somehow…”
Liv’s mind was suddenly going a million miles a minute—including the kids from the mentorship program would be a way of showing more community involvement in the Hanukkah event.
But also aside from the preliminary conversation with Artur, nobody actually knew what this event, opening…thing would look like. There were also so many different levels to the project, so many questions that needed to be answered…
“Whoa,” her project manager cousin said with a smile, most likely recognizing the combined deer in headlights/excitement-filled expression that had made its way onto her face. “I’m sure Liv thinks that’s a wonderful idea, but us…Liv…those of us on the side of good, need to get through this meeting tonight. Once that’s clear, I’m sure she’s got a bunch of moving parts to manage before deciding what kind of role she’d want both you and the kids from the program to take.”
“Yes,” Liv said, a huge sigh of relief whooshing out of her. “Exactly. Thank you, Ash, for even thinking of the idea. But yes, Judith, you have it exactly. I’ve got a ton of moving parts that I’m working with, including how the town is going to be feeling after tonight’s meeting.”
“Or how the fixer of yours is going to handle a large percentage of seven thousand angry Briarwood residents.”
“Mine?” Liv managed. “Considering the whole beginning of the conversation was about the ton of connections this guy has to both of you?”
“You did get seen by about…at least half the town walking with him,” Ash began, “after the whole incident with McManus turned everybody into protective watchdogs.”
And of course, as half her family reminded her that not everybody was McManus, the other used him as a cautionary tale.
For once in her life, she didn’t want to engage in this conversation, either side of it. “I think I need to head out,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Judith gestured at Liv’s plate, which thankfully was clear. “Do you want dessert or leftovers?”
“No,” Liv said. “Leftovers are going to need to go in the fridge. I’ll be fine. And dessert is probably not a good idea for me tonight.”
Judith nodded.
“You need us to come tonight?”
Liv shook her head at Ash’s question. “No,” she said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Somehow, Liv managed to leave her cousin’s house, knowing all too well she would have to update Judith and Asher later. But it didn’t matter because there were more pressing matters to attend to.
In order to build something, she had to make sure there was a foundation. And the meeting couldn’t destroy the tiny little foundation she’d begun to create. Her legacy depended on it.
*
Artur pulled into Abe’s driveway, parked on his parking pad, headed up to the front door and walked right in. “Hello?”
Laughter came from the table, Leo and his wife Sapna, Abe and Batya, waiting for him. Friendship and food at its best, he decided.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Don’t think I’ll let you have any if you didn’t bring dessert…”
For effect, he lifted the paper bag holding the babka, being careful not to destroy it. “Have dessert, will travel,” he said, smiling as he opened the door to put his coat away. “I didn’t get the wine but there was a meeting.”
“There’s always a meeting,” Batya.
“So,” Artur said as he turned toward Leo, “you have something to tell me.”
“About how Briarwood’s last campaign for mayor ended up in a gossip ring, which annoyed the Chamber of Commerce enough where they basically forced a longstanding business to not only close, but the family to leave town?”
Artur blinked. “What?”
“You’re kidding,” Batya said. “That is ridiculous.”
“Nope.” Leo sat back and told the story, explaining how the candidates and the story shook Briarwood. “But as a result, you have a pack of Dobermans ready to pounce on anybody who comes anywhere near the mayor.”
Which was a wild bit of information to digest.
Thankfully there was dairy and a ton of sour cream in all areas of the dinner table. He adored his friends.
And when dinner was done and he and Leo were bringing dishes to the counter by the dishwasher, he asked, “So the money was?”
“Frank Maricelli’s contribution to the get McManus out of town plan. Paul Levitan did the deal and in exchange, when McManus’s was fully empty…”
“Levitan was offered the space.”
Leo nodded. “Bingo.”
Which was a ton more information to digest than he’d expected. Thankfully, there was the babka and coffee and minutes for him to compose himself. But when they finished and it was time for him to head off to the meeting, Abe and Sapna arguing about dishes, Batya walked him to the door.
“What’s up?” he asked, because of course there was something on her mind; it was obvious. He knew body language too well, and he’d known her since high school.
“You sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Batya asked, grinning up at him.
He raised an eyebrow. “You voluntarily would come to this ‘kill the rabbit’ town meeting in Briarwood on a Thursday night when you’d rather be watching the Legends?”
Batya shrugged. “Hockey can wait. I can sand down a pitchfork with the best of them. Not to mention, meetings or auditions in a high school auditorium sometimes need supporters.”
Of course she remembered that day all those years ago, when he and Leo went to support her. “I appreciate it, but I think this needs to be a solo event.”
“See that’s the thing,” she said. “Because I thought standing up in front of an entire audience and confronting ridiculous amounts of stage fright, in order to audition in an auditorium you thought you’d left for the last time ages before, was a solo event. But some people decided otherwise.”
“This is different,” he said. “I need to hear what’s wrong, and if I have people spinning noisemakers to drown out every speaker who finds fault with something done by the company I’m representing, I’ll be the villain in the story, not the brave knight who has come to save the day.”
Batya snickered, knowing him well enough to figure out he was trying not to become the villain of Briarwood’s holiday story. “Right. Nobody needs a sour-cream-flavored hamantaschen,” she said, choosing the right dessert metaphor to match the Purim metaphors he’d chosen.
“Not even me,” he said with a laugh. “But I appreciate it.”
“Good,” she said. “Keep me posted, and be careful.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not following?”
“It’s a bit of a minefield there,” Leo said, joining the conversation as usual. “You’re being watched like rooster coming into the henhouse. Just…whatever you do, as Batya said, be careful and make good choices, hm?”
“I’ll have coffee waiting tomorrow morning,” Batya said, “as long as you update me.”
Hints taken, he headed out, carrying some sour cream and soofganiyot stolen from the dessert box.
This was going to be an interesting night.