Page 40 of Analysing Her Assets

A lump lodged itself somewhere between her chest and her belly. She brushed her teeth twice, forgetting about the first time, laboriously pulled on her house pants, couldn’t find the warm synthetic fleece, which was right in front of her nose. Her quiet street filled with later morning noises that filtered into her room along with the chilly morning air. Parents calling their children, the starting and stopping of the slow-moving garbage truck, impatient car horns. When she finally leashed Giddy, he was already at the door, whining.

At the entrance, to the side of the trimmed Ficus arch, stood a tall man.

Gideon Sela wasn’t wearing running shorts, and Shemesh wasn’t with him. She walked past him, Giddy barking in happiness. To the dog, he smelled just the same, deliciously clean, with a promise for a morning run.

“Get lost, Golden Boy.” Tamar spoke through gritted teeth as he followed her to the small tree that Giddy recognized as his.

“Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You took a raincheck.”

His calloused palm circled her wrist. She wished she didn’t like his touch so much. She pulled free.

“I shouldn’t have left. I wanted to text you, but I didn’t know what to say.”

Notwithstanding his lovely scent, Gideon didn’t look his usual crisp self. His cheeks were covered with rough stubble, and his eyelids were heavy.

“You left yesterday instead of talking to me. You promised honesty.”

That was what had sold her on Gideon Sela. Not his brown eyes or tight butt. It was the promise he made on her couch that they would have honesty between them. That they would talk to each other, not behind their backs.

Giddy was done, and he was yanking on the leash probably imagining that Tamar or the nice smelling guy were going to take him for more stretching of legs. Tamar bypassed Gideon, pulling a reluctant Giddy back to the house. Gideon touched her shoulder, his fingers lightly caressing her neck. She stopped and didn’t shake him off because she had no willpower. She couldn’t help being flattered. The great Gideon Sela who refused everyone’s advances was here. Angsty. Begging.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry. I’ve been waiting down here to apologize for acting like a jerk.” He ran his long fingers through his light-brown wavy hair, making it messier. And handsomer. “I shouldn’t have given up like that. Can I come tonight? Not for the sex, just to talk.”

“Tell me what made you leave yesterday. Tell me now, not tonight.” Her voice rang with resolve. She was willing to take an indefinite raincheck, no bluffing.

“Tally told me about your mother’s death, the health bills, your family’s circumstances. That it would be best if we didn’t, you know, do this. She had a point.”

Yes, there was a point there, and Tamar had had her own doubts. Gideon and she were conflicted.

“She talked as if you confided in her,” Gideon continued, “about everything, including the deal we made. That you wanted out.”

Unexpected tears swelled, and she blinked rapidly to keep it in. Fuck, this hurt. Her sister lied. She lied to Tamar by omission, and she outright lied to Gideon. What a shitty, self-interested move by Tally.

For years she had lived knowing that Tally’s awful marriage was partially her fault. She had encouraged it, actively, wanting Tally out of the house, out of her hair. Back then, she was the self-interested sister. She’d earned this betrayal by Tally.

Perhaps her sister did her a favor, getting her out of this libido-induced arrangement. Her proposal to Gideon was unhinged, the consequence of a nervous breakdown after a family dinner. She turned away from him without an answer and let her building’s door close fast behind her.

The analyst floor was full when she walked in. Golden boy was already seated in his cubicle. Gideon’s portfolio was still in first place and that soured her mood even worse. This was for the best. An existence without Gideon Sela on her sofa was the norm. She ordered Marina not to talk to her and ordered her brain to concentrate. Work had always been her real refuge.

She stood alone by the elevators, planning a hurried sandwich for lunch, after which she’d visit Giddy. Her output up to now had been lower than average, but it would pick up.

Gideon approached her.

“Tamar, please. We haven’t finished our conversation from the morning.”

She darted nervous looks in all directions, afraid to be seen and heard.

“Yes, we did. Fuck off, you idiot,” she whispered. He pressed his mouth.

“No. I’m not moving until you talk to me.”

“Really, Gideon, you’re making a scene?”

“Yes, I am. Talk to me, Tamar. We can do that in here.” He opened the fire escape door to the stairway and grabbed her hand, pulling her after him. She bumped into the solid, dark silhouette. He steadied her, strong fingers grasping her elbows, as the heavy door closed behind them.

Gideon’s form obscured the little light that was coming from the narrow windows half a floor above. She shivered. It was much colder in here. He took off his jacket and draped it on her, leaving his warm palms on her shoulders.

---