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“The venture capital fund I was in touch with contacted me–they want to come see us after the holidays.”
“After the holidays is going to be too late. And funds take forever to decide. Look, Motti, you know him, he was here when he invested in us a few months ago. He likes us, and he can bring the money we need. This due diligence is because he pulled connections. There’s a time limit–one of the large angels is leaving soon.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Menni told me. And you weren’t here all of last week–which I spent preparing the books.”
“The investor will just send another reviewer, and there is nothing I can do about it. Erez looked very determined walking away.”
“We’ll get no one else here on time. You need to get him back.”
“Nurit…it’s a conflict of interests. He’ll refuse to look at us. And I feel uncomfortable as well. Plus, I don’t have his contact info or anything.”
Nurit made very good points, but Dafna was putting up a fight for that distant, shimmery nugget.
“He’ll get over his conflict. It’s not like you’re going to marry him. You’ve been with him once. What’s the big deal? We’ll miss this opportunity. Kisharti will close, and it will all be your fault.”
Nurit was breathing hard, agitated. Dafna looked into her friend’s half-panicked eyes. She was independently wealthy, but she was the exception. Nurit’s future was tied to Kisharti, as were all the other employees. She couldn’t, wouldn’t have it on her consciousness that it was her actions, even if inadvertent, that cost an entire company with its eighty employees their livelihood.
Saving Kisharti was her responsibility.
“Go after him, get him back!”
She nodded and left, half running after Erez.
But he’d already left the floor, and when she ran down to the lobby, he was gone.
***
She stood in front of the entrance to the faux Irish neighborhood pub.
She could do this.
All she needed to do was approach the barman, the real one, Erez’s brother, and ask him for Erez’s cell phone number. Menni didn’t have Erez’s contact details, and understandably, they wouldn’t contact Motti for them. Googling Erez Ben Ami at G&L produced only a landline number, no cell and no email address. She drove straight from the office in order to get his details from his brother.
She squared her shoulders, pushed the door, and entered.
The pub was more heavily populated than it was ten days ago, but not by much. Mostly soldiers again. A man with dark hair served drinks to a table of two female soldiers. There was something very familiar about him. He turned, and she locked eyes with Erez’s brother and blushed, flustered. This was the ‘original’ barman. The one she would have gotten into her bed if Erez hadn’t changed places with him. Did Erez share this tale with his brother, thank him for the opportunity to hook up with a desperate suburban divorcee? But the green eyes weren’t knowing–just appreciative.
“Dafna.” Erez’s voice said her name, yet the brother’s lips didn’t move. “Here.” Erez’s voice said. Confused, she searched the half dark pub. There he was, in a black T-shirt and long stonewashed denim, sitting at the bar’s farthest corner, nursing a large glass of beer.
She walked the few steps to him fast. She wasn’t wearing her high-heeled sandals tonight, her favorite jeans, or the black designer T-shirt. Just her work clothes and the flip-flops she used for driving.
“Hi.” No tremor, just a steady voice, go, Dafna. “I came here for you.”
“It’s what you said when we first met,” he reminded her, his tone cool. “But you didn’t come for me that other time. You came for my brother.”
Shit, she didn’t mean to repeat the phrase.
“May I?” She pointed at the stool next to him, and he nodded. She climbed onto the stool, accidentally caressing his right arm with her forearm. The touch, as flimsy as it was, shook her.
“Can I get you anything? Negroni? Mojito? G&T?” The young Erez doppelgänger approached them from behind the bar. Up close, they weren’t that similar. They had the same eyes and hair, but Erez’s build was much heavier, and he was less handsome, more on the rough side. His brother was pretty.
She drove here. Plus, she needed her wits about her to persuade this CPA to do Kisharti the greatest favor and run a due diligence, starting tomorrow.
“Just a diet coke, whichever brand. I don’t mind.”
Erez exhaled next to her and took a long sip from his beer. His warm thigh touched hers briefly, and they both straightened in their stools, gathering their legs beneath them. She accepted the drink from his brother, who threw a glance at them and retreated to the other side of the bar.
