Page 81 of The Dreidl Disaster

The driver nodded and got into the truck, pulling away into the winter air.

“Let him fix this quickly. Let this be fixable.”

Having stated his hope aloud, he unlocked his car and was about to get in when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Liv.

The one time in the world he didn’t want to see her, she was there.

Timing, luck, bad miracles and all of that.

But timing was timing and whatever was going to happen was going to happen. Pulling himself together, he looked up at her, hoping she’d understand him. “I have to go take care of something right now. I’ll call you later, okay?”

The woman was too perceptive for her own good, looking up at him as if she could decipher something from the expression on his face. Hopefully she couldn’t manage it.

“You have a problem?” she asked. “Can I help?” Liv’s eyes were wide, inquisitive and gorgeous, and what he really wanted was to tell everybody to go to Hades and bring her back to the office for a private meeting. But he couldn’t.

And he couldn’t tell her why either.

“No,” he said. “I’ve got this under control.”

“You have it under control,” she repeated, in that way of hers that revealed she knew more than he was telling her. “This was something you planned for.”

Finding absolutely nothing wrong with her statement, he nodded. “I plan for pretty much all contingencies,” he said. “It’s my job. Speaking of which, I need to go. I’ll call you later?”

“No,” she said, her entire expression and body language a stop sign.

Applesauce.

Dammit.

“What contingency are you fixing?”

He loved how perceptive she was, loved how brilliant and wonderful she was and yet in that moment he hated it.

“I can’t tell you,” he said, as clearly and as slowly as he could. “Call Naomi, or she’s going to call you. Listen to her.” And then he looked at her, hoping she’d understand. “Please?”

She didn’t nod, just looked at him. “Why?” she asked, her voice daggers. “Why won’t you tell me yourself? What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “Trust me. Please?”

“Like you trusted me enough to keep me aware of a possibility that something could go wrong with this situation? And not just an in the air possibility…a possibility that you planned to be an actual thing?”

For just one moment he held his breath, hoping she’d get it. Hoping that she could decipher what he was saying.

She shook her head, and in her expression, every single hope he’d had winked out like a set of bad electric lights. “I think not.”

And as she headed off, the worst thing was that he couldn’t follow her.

Not only was he prevented by the NDA from explaining the situation, but also and more importantly, he couldn’t wait. He had to get to Jacob’s house before the mess arrived, and make the necessary arrangements so that it would become a sculpture. All of this was on his shoulders, and he couldn’t take the time to go make sure she understood how much she meant to him.

His heart pounded.

She was pissed and he couldn’t explain himself.

He couldn’t tell her.

He needed a miracle.

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