Page 73 of The Dreidl Disaster

So you can be the good girl; I will be the bad boy.

Of course.

“Bad boy.” By Chaim Marcus.

His first big solo single.

Naomi had been a huge fan of Zack Weisler’s and Chaim’s around the time of the beginning of their careers, and her sister had spent hours telling her about how much she loved Chaim for standing between his famous ex, Christi Quick, and the press.

Which meant that she knew the whole story behind the song, and the fact that Chaim Marcus’s actions had quashed the conversation about his relationship with his ex, and let her be.

No ex of Christi Quick’s since Chaim had done it; whether it was about her or about Chaim himself, who knew. But it stuck in her head.

“Yep,” Artur said, breaking into her train of thought and confirming it without even saying anything. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re right. Because the plan turned out to be impressive enough so people behind the scenes who knew about all of this asked whose idea it was, or more specifically who had directed the whole thing. My friend spoke up, said it was me. Not long after, I got offered a job by my friend’s record label. And considering I enjoyed the process and the chase of the perfect solution, I took it.”

She nodded. “So,” she asked, still unfamiliar with the boundaries of his career. “Do you work with personal scandals?”

“Mostly corporate messes,” he said as he drove them around a curve. “I’m not a political fixer. I’m not someone who’s going to examine skeletons in people’s closets or governmental secrets. It’s my job to tell the PR people how to do their job after they messed up.”

Which made sense, going back to why they met in the first place. “You,” she said with a smile, “are an interesting guy. And I’m very lucky I know you.”

The smile on his face was priceless, and she couldn’t wait to kiss it off of him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Artur had consultedAbe and Sarah and Asher, who apologized after admitting that he might have been the one who tipped off Liv’s aunt. Which meant he was as prepared as possible to attend Shabbat dinner with Liv and her parents.

Liv, however, was more nervous than he’d ever seen her; hiding her vulnerability behind her bravado, shaking only when he stopped holding her hand. Which meant that Artur found himself attempting to reassure her. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “We’re fine.”

“And Naomi’s going to be there to take off the heat.”

Why it was necessary her sister was going to be there, he wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t going to say that to Liv when she was holding on to the idea for dear life, repeating the phrase as if it was a butterscotch candy she was sucking on.

“Either way,” he continued, the fifth time they’d had that conversation and she’d had that response. “I’ve got really good babka, and I’m ready for anything.”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “If anybody else had said that,” she said, “I’d tell them they were full of pudding.”

“But I’m not,” he replied which seemed to relax her. “I promise we’ll be fine.” He paused and then looked up at her. “If you want me to drive, I will.”

Which was enough to shock her into some degree of calm. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Look,” he said. “If I drive, you’ll concentrate on giving me directions and not on dinner.”

The smile on her face was enough to keep him going. “Yes,” he said. Okay. “We’ll be good. No matter what.”

And soon after, he pulled out of the guest space in front Liv’s town house, and then out of the development where the town house was.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Right.” She shook her head, and there was that vulnerability again, the clear personal worry that she didn’t want to show anybody else. “I’m just worried, but if Naomi doesn’t come, I’ll have to deal with my parents without family interference.”

“We’ll be fine no matter what,” he said as he turned where she indicated he should. “What exactly makes you think she’s not coming?”

“I would have heard from her by now if she was,” Liv replied. “I haven’t heard from her at all since the party. And I’m concerned that she’s avoiding me…because she’s not coming.”

He blinked. Abe’s backyard barbecue pop-up had been a few weeks before. “Is it usual for the two of you not to be in contact for that long a period?”

“It is, unless there’s something going on, like my cousin’s wedding prep and dinner.”

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