Page 46 of The Dreidl Disaster

Liv grinned. “Menorah Havdalah.”

This kind of banter was yet another reason why he enjoyed spending time with her.

H wanted to spend more, which brought him back to the butterfly of a topic flittering around them. He’d asked her a question and though he didn’t want to push, he needed to let Abe know her answer, good or bad, yes or no. Theoretically it didn’t matter what answer he was going to give Abe, but the bottom line was that it did.

To him.

He wanted her to come but…

“You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Mind went elsewhere.”

“Would you mind telling me where it went—if it’s not too private?”

He could take the easy way out, but he’d never been that kind of person. “My friend Abe,” he said. “I need to tell himsomething, whatever it is.”

“I’ll go,” she said, looking around, as if to see if they were alone for sure. “But don’t make a big deal about this. I just…want to be. You know?”

He did. “I won’t even make a big deal to myself when I think about it,” he said. “I’ll just tell Abe to take it calm. Sound good?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Saturday night, okay?”

“Yes. Can you arrange the meeting with the Hanukkah consultant Carol was talking about?”

Whiplash. But it was the best kind. “How about tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll make sure we have something lined up with the JHPA president in the next few days following.”

And her smile? It lit everything up. Not just her face but the world.

And he couldn’t stop himself from falling into this wild, wonderful feeling.

Which was going to be trouble. So much trouble.

The best kind of trouble.

*

The next morning,Liv shook off the stardust and headed toward Briarwood Tales; that was what his message had said, after all.

Meet me at 9 a.m. at Briarwood Tales; we’ll meet our Hanukkah consultant there.

There was a good space in the parking lot, and there was a chill in the air.

It was gorgeous.

She was going to miss days like this, she reflected as she headed into the store. It was one of her favorite places, and from what she knew, the Hanukkah consultant was the assistant manager.

She wondered if he’d made it;, if he found a parking space.

Her fears dissipated, because when she looked up, he was already there, chatting away with the dark-curly-haired woman—who had been introduced to her once as the co-owner.

“Hello?”

“Mayor Nachman,” the woman said with a smile. “Good to see you this morning. Glad this is my in-store day here in Briarwood.”

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