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“Right!” Daniel agreed. “Maybe suspend them for now. Until after the money comes in.”
“Guys…you don’t believe this about Nurit and me?” Dafna kept the hurt out of her voice. She’d made a mistake. She should have gone to the other founders. To Daniel, at least. Now he felt deceived by her, and in a way, he was right.
“I’m not sure what went down, but it’s in our best interest to believe Menni,” Gil explained in his cold way.
“Daniel…?”
His shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry Dafna, I wish you came to me before talking to Motti.”
“Get out,” Menni said.
“Let’s go,” she told Nurit, who shook so badly, that Dafna had to grab her shoulder and help her out of her seat. They left together, hand in hand.
“Dafna, what am I going to do?” Nurit started crying.
Her friend was a single mother and if Menni wouldn’t give her a recommendation or worse, tarnished her reputation, Nurit would never find employment. Nurit had been in the wrong, but the real culprit was Menni.
“This isn’t over yet,” she told Nurit. “I’ve got you. I promise. We’ll find another wau to get him.”
This was on her. She brought Nurit to Kisharti, she was responsible for her.
“Okay. What, like, now?”
“Soon, but now I’m going home to my father, who I shouldn’t have left alone today. Tomorrow, I’m going to do what I needed to do in the first place–apologize to Erez. And see if he would help us. If I had listened to him, this might have turned out differently. It was my fault the truth didn’t come to light like he wanted.”
Chapter 41
I Played With The Numbers
He sat at his home desk and stared at his resume. He’d spent the Yom Kippur weekend polishing it, and unless he started making up stuff, then that was as good as it got.
Right before leaving for the Yom Kippur holiday, Yogev passed by his office to ask him whether he changed his mind and would sign the Kisharti report. He refused. He’d given Dafna a promise to be silent till after the holidays, but he wouldn’t sign the report. Yogev then told him to withdraw his candidacy for the Tractus position, since he wasn’t backing him for it, and it would look bad for them both.
“I’m not backing anyone who isn’t a team player,” he’d said.
“I’m not removing my candidacy,” Erez had retorted.
“Abba, come here. I need to show you something,” Gal called him.
“Coming.”
His cell buzzed, showing his mother’s Australian number. He’d been avoiding his mother’s calls the past two Fridays, upset about Dafna, who he hadn’t heard from since she left his apartment, after their lovemaking. He wasn’t up to talk to his mother now either, but he still took the call.
“Erez, what’s going on? Why aren’t you taking my calls?” his mother admonished him. As if she had any right.
“If you were here, where you belong, instead of thousands of kilometers away, then I wouldn’t have to.” He was depressed, and if he hurt her, then fine, he didn’t care.
His mother was quiet.
“What is this about?”
Frustration at the way he and Dafna parted. Anger at the lost position at Tractus. His inability to make things right, not even for his daughter, who couldn’t sing when he was around. It all exploded.
“Why didn’t you and Abba stay here and fight for his good name? He denied everything, but you just…upped and left! Why didn’t he defend his name?” he shouted down the phone.
“Erez…” His mother used her soothing tone, which had stopped being effective a long time ago.
