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“And whose fault was that?”
“It might’ve been Avi’s? Anyway, RIP Jocko.”
Nora snorted. “Says the guy who probably dug the shallow grave.” Turning to Beck, she explained, “Jocko went MIA in the Middle East.”
Jay laughed, holding up hands in innocence. “Gotta go check on what’s taking that sister of mine so long with the eats.”
He was already off, raking a hand through his mop of hair, pointing at some random guy who yelled his name in praise. Over one tuxedoed shoulder, he called back to them. “Candle lighting in five!”
* * *
Nora’s friend Jay repeated those magic words into a mic moments later, and everyone on their deck level started hightailing it for the stairs. Ball gowns mixed with Boho, everyone chattering excitedly about the start of the holiday. More tuxedos and suits than jeans and ugly Hanukkah sweaters, but there were even a few of those.
Alex guided Nora into the ballroom, away from the stampede. Not exactly empty, but slightly more private.
“Ugh, sorry. Told you. That’s Jay, in full effect. The annoying brother I never had.”
She looked adorable, the big captain’s hat pushed back on her head, making her eyes appear even more amplified. Were those…tears she was blinking back? But she was smiling a genuine smile as she pointed out her favorite elements of the room.
There was, indeed, a tower built of perfectly symmetrical champagne glasses. And slowly rotating above it, an aerialist suspended from the ceiling in silks; perfectly pouring from a Moët bottle a bubbly cascade to fill each and every one while onlookers gasped.
“On a moving boat. Crazy, right?” Nora laughed, shaking her head. “Jay pulls off magic, that fucker. And yes, Gatsby’s black and white ball was indeed his theme as a bar mitzvah. I didn’t know him back then, but I’m not surprised.”
There was a jazz band in one corner, clusters of people swaying on the dance floor. Long buffet tables adorned with blue and gold awaiting their feast. And that was just one tier of the multi-leveled ship. Alex suspected every deck harbored a different feel and theme.
“And you almost missed all this, because of the work party?”
Nora crossed her arms, leaning against one of the pillars near the stocked bar. “Not the party, per se. Work, in general.” She sighed. “Things that really shouldn’t wait until Monday.”
The sleeves of his suit jacket covered half her hands, sending a surge of possessiveness through him. Alex wanted to cover her; shield her from big brother-like teasing and boss bullies and any other unpleasantness that threatened to dim the spark in her eyes.
“I’ve had to do things for Hedstrom that I’m not proud of.”
Alex felt a splash of dread and adrenaline mix a cocktail of panic in his gut.
“Let’s just say you are lucky you aren’t in his division,” she continued. “Never take a transfer to my office, okay? I couldn’t bear it.”
In all the spontaneity of the night, it was easy to forget Nora had mistaken him for a co-worker. But it wasn’t right for Alex to let her keep assuming that.
“Listen, about Britesmith…”
Two fingers touched down on his lips. Nora was on tiptoes. “Nooo. No work talk! I changed my mind. It’s officially Shabbat, it’s officially Hanukkah.” She leaned in, her own lips resting against her fingers and their mouths just millimeters apart. “A pact,” she murmured. “Neither of us talk about how miserable we are there, okay? And just enjoy…”
She slid her fingers down his chin, leaving no barrier between their lips, and Alex took full advantage. Nora may have instigated that first kiss, but he was taking responsibility for this one. And for making her knees buckle.
“The night?”
His lips followed the trail of her fingers, down the smooth hollow of her neck. His mouth on the tiny diamondChaicharm at her throat. He wanted to find all her sweet spots; the ones that made her intake of breath sharp, made her swear softly and pull him closer like she was doing now.
“Are you proposing…a Hanukkah hook-up, Ms. Ruben?”
That slit in her dress, her bare leg mincing between his thighs…the way she bit her lip and smiled. All signs pointed to yes. Not that those cues alone represented consent – Alex was fully aware of that.
“All I’m saying is…you and this party and that drink menu over there could contribute greatly to my not worrying about Monday morning. In that order.”
Technically, he wasn’t even supposed to be in town until Monday. Couldn’t he just set aside the tasks hanging over his head and let come what may, too?
“Well then, let’s get the lady a…” He perused the cleverly-themed list of holiday drinks over her shoulder. “…Challah-day Hangover?”
