Page 21 of The Dreidl Disaster

Just dinner at the Cohens, she reminded herself. And then she opened the door. “Showtime,” she said as she got out of the car.

And as if she’d conjured him, he was standing next to her.

“You ready?”

He nodded. “I am,” he said. “You?”

And then without any more comments or opportunity to make any ridiculous statements, she headed toward the house, knowing that he was right behind her.

Chapter Seven

Artur’s marbles hadjust been shot out of position, colliding with each other as he tried to focus on the most important item of the evening: business. He needed to help the mayor placate the Cohens, not let his concentration waver.

Not to mention, the mayor was perfectly capable of doing her job and didn’t need him watching over her like a mother hen. Not trying to see if she was nervous, not trying to make silly comments to take her mind off of whatever was…swirling inside there.

And definitely not thinking about what she looked like in his jacket.

Which she wasn’t wearing.

Better to focus on the five-second reunion with Peter Cohen, who did remember him from Comic Con and insisted on posing in front of the Chris Emerson signed jersey he’d gotten during an Empire Bridge charity event a few weeks later.

While he was holding a babka.

“But I don’t want to completely derail the evening,” Peter said after catching his wife’s expression. “Go sit, dinner will be ready in a minute.”

And it smelled fantastic.

“I have,” he said, as he stopped awkwardly by Jennifer on the way to the table, “a babka that I’ve brought.”

“Oh great.” Jennifer paused, looking at the babka in his hand as if it was radioactive. “Thank you so much.”

Her lips were pursed, and he could read the strained politeness that radiated from her.

And then he remembered.

Kosher.

She didn’t know it was kosher. Parve.

“I brought it from Geirowitz’s in Rivertown,” he replied, giving an explanation she didn’t ask for, but needed nonetheless. “They just started selling products in store that aren’t meat.”

“Oh yes,” Jennifer replied visibly relieved. “I love their meat and I really love that they’re expanding their repertoire. I’ve been meaning to try Moshe’s wife’s baking.”

“It’s good,” he said, glad she got the message. “One of my best friends swears by them, and I swear by this.”

“Good,” she said, and as she spoke, he could see the invisible tick mark going up on his side.

Meanwhile, the mayor had just emerged from the bathroom, looking radiant, nodding with approval Artur couldn’t help but feel inside of him.

*

Liv had returnedto the room just in time to see Artur pass the babka off to Jennifer without incident, which was a relief.

So was the dinner; it was relaxed, with good food and great conversation.

Until the break between the salad and the main dish, where Jennifer took a long drink of her wine and looked between her and Artur. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve invited you both here.”

Artur looked at her, carefully, and didn’t say anything.

---