“You listen to Vanessa Carlton though.” Her smile returned, though he had the distinct impression this one was at his expense.
Again, he weighed the response in his head. It was impossible to explain the way he made his choices, how he decided which of the commandments to give more weight to than others. It was easy to criticize and say that you shouldn’t “pick and choose,” a favorite phrase of seemingly every single one of his rabbis in yeshiva, but didn’t they all? Music had been his biggest love for as long as he could remember, his greatest comfort in an unhappy home. He’d never been able to exclude Stevie Nicks or Amy Winehouse or Whitney Houston from that narrative.
Then again, it had never really felt like it mattered when nothing elicited a response of attraction in him. The fact that he now knewwhat it was like to be turned on by a throaty laugh or a playful wink made him feel like he should probably reevaluate everything.
“I contain multitudes,” he offered in response, and Sarina laughed, looking a little disarmed.
As if to confirm, she cocked her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You’re surprisingly charming.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “You’re only about… seventy-five percent what I expected.”
“Where does that percentage go if I jump up and start dancing on the table?”
“Back up to eighty-five.”
“You really do have strong journalistic instincts.”
She huffed another laugh, then rested her chin on her fist, scrutinizing him through squinted eyes. “So, charming, talented, witty, obviously handsome, and on the market. Whyareyou still single, Judah Klein? And before you get any ideas about me hitting on you, let me be clear that I am happily taken.”
“Noted. No pun intended.” He wrapped his hands around the cold glass and stared down into its depths. “Just haven’t found the right person, I guess.” He smiled wryly, not quite meeting her eyes, as an image of Arielle Becker glaring at him filled his mind. “Not everyone finds me as charming as a happily taken journalist.”
She laughed, tapping a few times on the tape recorder. “Trust me, Judah. They will.”
Chapter Six
“Akiva, Iknowyou’re just putting this on to piss me off. Turn it down already.”
Akiva’s laughter floated back to Arielle as he turned up the volume on Judah’s Chanukah album, and she cursed at him under her breath. It’d been two months since Lauren’s wedding, and whatever goodwill Judah had amassed with her by agreeing to her silly prank was long gone. He’d barely played along anyway, spending half the third round of dancing hiding behind the saxophonist and doing absolutely nothing to discourage Joanna from shaking her tiny little booty for him. By the time Ari’d gotten home that night, she was both embarrassed for asking him such a silly favor and horrified that she’d actuallywantedthose admittedly gorgeous navy eyes on her, and it had all blended together into growing irritation at him for seeing her at her petty worst.
Not to mention, she’d made the disastrous error of telling Akiva the whole story, and he’d thought it was hilarious. There were days Arielle also found it funny, but right then, Liana was missing their Chanukah party for a date with Gideon, and it was making Ari crankier than usual.
“The whole reason we’rehavingthe damn party is that we thought it was a nice tradition to uphold after last year,” Ari muttered to an imaginary Liana as she scattered foil-wrapped chocolate coins around the coffee table. “You know, the partyyouhad us throw last minute as an excuse to spend time with your stupid crush.” Immediately, Ari felt bad. “Okay, Gideon’s not stupid—he’s great—and I know tonight was the only night he could get tickets for, but still, this feels sacrilegious.”
“Talking to yourself again, Becker?” Danny swooped in and grabbed a coin, tearing off the foil with the same care he’d once used to destroy her favorite bra. “Is that what happens when your other half isn’t around?”
“Shut up, Weinstein,” she muttered, well aware her comeback lacked both heat and pizzazz. “Maybe make yourself useful instead of eating all the gelt. Did someone already pick up the sufganiyot?”
“Em’s bringing them,” he said with his mouth full.
“Then put out the drinks.”
“I’m on it!” Akiva called back from the kitchen.
Ari opened her mouth to bark another order but let it fall shut. There was nothing left to do. The sparse decorations were done, she’d already set up her menorah, Liana’s latkes—her penance for skipping the party—were warming in the oven, and there were already bowls of applesauce on the table to accompany them. (“Don’t you dare put out sour cream,” Liana had warned her before heading out the door with Gideon. “If sour cream goes anywhere near my latkes, I’ll know.”)
And, of course, there was already festive music in the air, the boys singing loudly along with “Dedication,” the hit from Judah’s Chanukah album that had first put him on the map. Ari had loved that song the first time she’d heard it. And, okay, maybe the second and third. But now? Ugh. “Can we listen toliterallyanything else?” she yelled.
Before anyone could answer, the door swung open, and in walked Emily with a stack of doughnut boxes. “I tried knocking but I guess you guys couldn’t hear me over the music.” Her mouth widened into a huge smile. “Oh, hey, I love this song!”
Ari pressed her face into her palms and suppressed a scream.
An hour later, the party was in full swing, and Ari’d mostly forgotten her annoyance. Her apartment was full of friends from the neighborhood, they’d finally changed up the music, their patenteddreidel drinking game—SevivOhNo—had people in an excellent mood, and even her sisters had dropped by.
That last one was a little more of a mixed bag.
“Yousureyou don’t wanna play?” Hannah asked her for the twelfth time. Her little sister’s eyes were a little glassy, a Twizzler hanging out of her mouth, the aqua streaks in her hair bright where they peeked out of her twisted knot. “I’m on fire tonight.”
“It’s dreidel,” their older sister Dana said dryly, “not craps at the Bellagio.”
“Maybe Dana should play,” Ari suggested. “A little vodka would do her a lot of good.” She could swear her sister had enjoyed fun once, but her long-term boyfriend, Evan, seemed to have sucked all that out of her. At least she hadn’t brought him.
