Page 24 of The Hanukkah Hook-Up

So it was a boxers and bagels situation.Keep your cool, Ruben.

She shed her jacket, tightened her top-knot and got to work. The warm aroma of espresso filled the light-drenched room, whose cream walls and slate-gray curtains seemed to soak up the winter morning sun.

She kicked off her sneakers, sinking into the plush, snowy carpeting as she carried their steaming cups to the small table near the window. The view was familiar yet foreign at the same time: city streets she had traipsed her whole life, but rarely glimpsed from such a height. If she squinted far enough, she could almost see the rooftops of Talia’s neighborhood.

Her best friend must’ve sensed a vibration in the universe, because Nora’s phone lit up.

I hope you are having as much fun as I am right now

The text was accompanied by a photo – the back view of a tall, built dude looking up at a menu board. Something told Nora he wasn’t just some random stranger Talia had met in line at the bagel place.

For Tal to even be functioning before sundown after the feat she pulled off on the Baller was a miracle in itself. Much less out on a date?

Nora bit her lip, laughing. Her self-proclaimed “kitchen mouse” bestie had gone and caught herself a big ginger cat, from the looks of it.Go, Talia.

Her host was back. In jeans now, feet still bare. He wore a gray Drake University T-shirt and an open flannel, his dark hair slicked back. Two-day-old scruff looked even better on him than yesterday’s.

Just an observation.

Not a reason to want to run her hand over its scratchy-soft surface to see if it was as sensory-soothing as a flip-sequin pillow.

He held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Alex Beckman. Son of Alice and Sam Beckman. Grandson of the late Leah and Hal Myers.”

“Who got his start selling peanuts at the ballgames.”

“Yep. The last son of the original Myers and Sons. Now run byhisson – my Uncle Marty.” He gestured around him. “This was his planned trip, originally. He booked this hotel. So technically, he’s the narcissistic asshole.”

“Sorry about that, as well.” She was two for two. “Did he also buy you the suit?”

“Gimme a little credit.” He dimpled in her direction, and she took that as a win. “It’s my favorite – and my lucky one. Which is why I wore it on the plane. I hate flying. Any other questions?”

“Can I still call you Beck?”

“Yes.” He unwrapped the bagels, pulling them apart where they were sliced in half so they could each sample both kinds of schmears. “Anything else?”

“And…there are Jews in Iowa?”

He laughed, covering his mouthful of whitefish salad. “Yes…we are a small but mighty one percent of the population.” He washed it down with coffee, regarding her over the rim of his bistro mug.

“Can I askyoua question?”

She tensed, setting her bagel aside. “Shoot.”

“What are we doing…after we consume this rocket fuel and breakfast of champions?”

* * *

Alex had seen bulletproof Nora at the work party, safety-in-numbers Nora with her Baller posse. Flirty Nora, evasive Nora when she hadn’t really known who he was.

And slightly snarky Nora once she did.

What – who – else was he going to get today?

And was he ready for her?

“You can’t come to New York during the holiday season and not get a tour from a lifelong New Yorker.” She avoided his eyes, picking poppy seeds off the top of her half-eaten bagel with a rounded fingernail. “And cousin Drew showing you the inside of some boujee finance bro bar or his favorite strip club doesn’t exactly count.”

Hot damn.Observant AF.

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