“Nowwhathas gotthatsmile on your face?” Naima asked. “That is adevioussmile.”
Ari turned the phone over on the desk as her cheeks ignited. “It’s nothing.”
“That isnotnothing.” Naima lowered her laptop screen so she could fix dark, knowing eyes on Ari. “That is the smile of someone who is talking to someone shelikes, which, by the way, is something I have not seen on your face in three years of working together.”
“I don’t ‘like’ him,” Ari clarified, wishing someone would turn up the A/C in the coworking space. “We’re just having fun, and he is… very good at fun.”
“Ah, so that’s the ‘I’m getting laid’ face. I suppose those do look somewhat similar. Clearly, I’m an out-of-practice old lady.”
“Super ancient,” Ari confirmed with a grin. “Or maybe it’s because you and Jackie have been together since you were literally five.”
“You know it sounds extremely weird when you put it that way,” Naima said, even though it was technically true—she and her childhood best friend realized somewhere in their teens that their friendship had become something else, started dating in secret their freshman year of high school, and had been together ever since. It was the stuff of legends, but it was also why Naima always took particular interest in Ari and James’s love lives—her own hadn’t had many new developments in… ever. “So how long has this been going on?”
“Like five minutes,” Ari said with a snort, even though it somehow felt much longer. She didn’t know whether it was because those initial kisses were months ago or because she and Judah had gone all in shockingly quickly, but this was not what it had been like three days into hooking up with Danny, or Jared before him, or Simon before him. The tiniest part of her wished she could blow her friends’ minds with the fact ofwhoshe was hooking up with, but besides the part about betraying Judah’s confidence, she’d never hear the end of those questions. “And it’s just this week. After that, we’re both going out of town.”
“Oh, right—we’re on our own next week,” James said as he slurped his boba. “This is the holiday where you can’t drink coffee or eat, like, anything, right?”
“We can drink coffee and eat stuff,” she corrected. “It just has to be certain coffee and certain stuff, because we don’t eat wheat, barley, oats, spelt, or rye. Plus, because I’m Ashkenazi—Eastern European—there’s evenmorestuff I can’t eat, called kitniyot, which, among other things, takes flavored coffee and anything with corn syrup off the table. Basically, I eat a lot of chocolate and potato chips. Melting chocolate into my coffee is actually my trick for making it not disgusting.”
“Okay, that’s kind of brilliant,” said Naima, “but it still sounds like a nightmare holiday.”
Ari didn’t totally disagree, though not because of the food. She’d loved it when she was little, before her dad passed away; it was his favorite holiday, and their Seder was always full of his exuberant songs and silly jokes. He would always make her and her sisters laugh as he pretended to search for the afikomen in the strangest of places, as if they would’ve hidden a pouch of matzo atop the tallest bookshelves or inside the toilet tank.
For a year or two afterward, they did Seders with Aleah’s family, and though they were always tinged with the sadness of her father’s absence, there was still fun to be had with her favorite cousins. But then Aunt Steph declared they were going down to Florida for a Pesach program, and the Beckers couldn’t afford to join, and that was that. Ari’s mom hated to cook, so their Seders had simply become the four of them eating takeout packages, their father’s absence still looming large all these years later.
Even that had been okay—she did (mostly) enjoy her mom and sisters—but this year, Dana’s loathsome boyfriend, Evan, was joining them, and it was guaranteed to be a nightmare.
Judah, meanwhile, would be living in the lap of luxury at the fanciest Pesach program in Mexico, eating meticulously rolled quinoa sushi and thirty-seven kinds of short ribs. Sure, she no longer thought he was an asshole, but it was still incredibly annoying to imagine him stretching out on a king-size bed in a gorgeous hotel room he had all to himself while she was stuck at home in the faded sage-green sheets of her old twin bed.
Or maybe he won’t be all by himself… The thought nagged at her before she brushed it aside. It didn’t matter what Judah got up to after this week because they’d no longer have anything to do with each other. If he wanted to set the beast she’d unleashed on other women, that was his right, and it wasnother business.
But, the devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear, if hereallybelieved every sexual encounter had the potential to be like the past few nights… maybe he needed a reminder that she was on another level.
As a parting gift.
A few hours later, she stood in Judah’s hallway, shifting impatiently from foot to foot as she waited for him to open the damn door already. Her coat provided plenty of coverage, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stay out in the hall in what was hiding beneath it.
When he finally swung the door open, she was irritated to see that he was on the phone. He mouthed, “Sorry, I’ll just be one minute,” and she huffed out a breath and let herself inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to find Judah dressed as formally as if he’d just come from a meeting—his entire wardrobe basically consisted of flat-front pants and button-up shirts—but shewasannoyed to find it extremely attractive, especially with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. She let her gaze linger on them while she eavesdropped just enough to decipher whether he really would be just a minute, and decided he wouldn’t.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly dressed to make herself comfortable.
Which meant she had only one option, really.
She slipped the top button of her coat through its hole, then the next, and the next, waiting for Judah’s eyes to land on her as he paced his apartment. Finally, his gaze shifted her way, and she watched the realization dawn in his eyes that it should stay exactly where it was.
Another button. Another. Another. And—
“Chaim, I’m so sorry, I have to run. Please email me the details and I’ll…” Judah hung up without even finishing his sentence asAri pushed the coat off her shoulders, leaving her standing there in a black satin-and-lace bustier, matching panties, and thigh-highs.
“Nice outfit,” he managed through what sounded like the world’s driest mouth.
“This old thing?” Her mouth curved into a smirk. “Sorry about your phone call.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Smart boy.”
