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She laughed, pushing him away and handing over Jay’s hat. “Officially letting you steer the ship. You should at least say hi to your cousin. And I need to find Talia before the candles.”
“Is that Jay’s sister?”
“More like his secret weapon. And my bestie.” She grinned. “Meet me at the menorah?”
There was that arch of her defined brow again, her smile turning into a secret shared just between them, before she headed for one of the many staircases.
What was the harm in a little Hanukkah fun and games? In a sparkling new city, with a dazzling girl?
And maybe one night of fire could last…the two-thousand-year old holiday had proven that.
ChapterFive
“Alexi! Bro! Dude!”
Drew bellied up to the bar, already lit like the eighth night. Alex hadn’t seen his cousin since their grandfather’s funeral, and was glad it was under happier circumstances tonight. But he really didn’t want to have to babysit him through seasickness. Or alcohol poisoning. Or any combination of the two that might send them both heaving overboard.
The bartender slid Alex’s drink order toward him, nodding in thanks for the tip slipped between the two glasses. He’d recommended the Eight-day Buzz to kick off the night.
“How’s the head-chopping going, oh mighty Chosen One?”
Even under the happy-go-lucky guise of party boy, there was resentment in his cousin’s tone. Whywashe chosen over Marty Myers’ own first-born son anyway? It was a mystery whose answer now lay six feet under.
“Fuck off. You know I wouldn’t choose this, if given any choice.”
That was the thing about family. And Jewish guilt.
You take care of Britesmith.
Honoring his grandfather’s wish seemed to fly directly in the face of Uncle Marty’s inheritance.
Protect New York, Alexi.
Like he was some damn superhero.
And following his uncle’s orders of cleaning house – or as Drew called it, chopping some heads – made fiscal sense, but…something felt off.
Drew’s dad and Alex’s mom were siblings. Both growing up as Myerses, but with very different talents and values. His uncle, with a gift for numbers, respected in his conservative congregation, always there to lead a minyan. His mother, a free spirit artist who married a modest academic, and had raised their son to simply be a good person, not necessarily a good Jew.
Alex had loved and respected his grandfather so much, and the feeling had seemed mutual. Even while Alex avoided anything to do with the family business, holding it at bay for as long as he could, keeping it at arm’s length while he explored his options and interests.
He’d thought that when the time came to decide, he’d have his grandfather there to consult with and mentor him.
Suddenly, the only mentor was Uncle Marty, who had probably envisioned his own version of Myers and Sons with Drew following in his footsteps. Drew Myers, a Wall Street guy who already had New York in his back pocket.
Not a Beckman. A dreamy, artsy Beckman.
“I’m just messing with you, cousin. So glad you’re here. Have a Jelly Donut shot with me!”
“Can you make sure this gets back to its rightful owner?”
Alex passed the captain’s hat over the bar to the bartender before turning to his cousin.
“Should you be mixing motion sickness meds with alcohol, Drewski?”
Silly how they resorted to the pet names their grandma had given them back in the day. Gran Leah was generous with her time and love, but she had no patience with the American names their parents had bestowed upon her ten grandchildren. She far preferred calling them some Eastern European variation; perhaps after a beloved childhood friend…or pet goat, for all they knew.
“Not on any meds, man! Get this.” His cousin launched into one of his over-the-top, name-dropping stories, but all Alex could think about was getting back to Nora.
