Leah picked up the Hebrew baby name book and flipped through it. She couldn’t imagine how two people could ever decide on a first and middle name for a child – meaningful yet melodic, complimenting a surname – and not maim each other in the process. At least it was okay if there was more than one Jacob Benjamin or Sarah Rebecca in the world, or town, or Saturday school class. And you had nine months in which to make the ultimate decision.
But a business? Much higher stakes. You had to stand out, and you certainly didn’t want to be sued for any sort of trademark infringement. All the good (and some of the not-so-good) names she and Jaz had dreamed up were already taken.
“Getting there.”
Maybe New York would provide the perfect inspiration. But getting there?
Now, she was going solo. Without her wing woman. Jaz had better navigation sense, not to mention the better car. Now Leah had to rely on GPS and luck. And her dad’s ancient Subaru. With its“I Honk for Hamentashen”bumper sticker.
“Sorry about that.” Jasmine was back, chugging from a water bottle. “Look. You’ve got the eight Mahjong sets to distribute to our list of movers and shakers. They’ll basically build our press kit, organically creating a buzz by the time you board the ship. Then you stick to the script, smile a lot, and, if worse comes to worst, text me. If someone asks about ROI, KPI, or InitialValuations, get their email addy, and I will handle it. Investorscanbe interested, even with some uncertainty. It’s more art than science. And you know art better than anyone.”
“Except for me.” Lucas raised his pencil hand. “Hello? Caldecott Honoree.”
Leah snorted. “Luckily, humility runs in our family too.” She hugged them both. “Thanks for letting me use your oven for warm-up.” If she had had to rely just on her tiny range in her downstairs apartment, it would’ve taken her all eight days to heat them.
“See you at Dad’s tonight? Spoiler alert: there will be latkes.”
Chapter Two
“Do you believe in true love, Avi Wolfson?”
Sylvie sounded as unraveled as he felt. Her breath hot on his shoulder as she collapsed next to him.
Avi searched out her hand, splayed across his navel. Fingers entwined, he brought her palm to rest upon his heart. Letting its beats speak for him.
She wasn’t satisfied with silence. Not on their last night together. Sylvie Shapiro wanted words – a declaration.
Come tomorrow, she and the others would board flights home, scattering to colleges and jobs and lives after their gap year in Israel. Avi was staying – for a while, anyway. Undecided of his future, but sure as shit not ready to go home and face his father and the future he had decided for him.
“Tell me, V,” she mock-threatened, rolling to pin him on her narrow mattress. “You and me. For always.”
Sylvie drove a hard bargain, shrewd as a Tel Aviv shuk market vendor. Her inner thighs, strong from their hikes in Eilat, trapped him; and her boobs mashed against his chestas she captured his hands above his head. Instantly, he was turned on again.
“You’ve got me, Syl. True love. For now, for always. Forever.”
Truthfully, he only knew for certain what they had right now.
They had until Nora, Libby, and Talia began pounding on the door, demanding to be let into the room all four girls shared on the kibbutz. Until Jonah came to collect him for one last night of drinking with Jay and Eli. Until he saw each and every one of them off at Ben Gurion and was left standing with his duffel and guitar at his feet.
Avi really couldn’t think beyond that.
“True love…for now.” Still pinning him, Sylvie rose to her knees, reaching for her bra and slinging those beautiful tits into the black lace. Leaning back so that her long blonde hair tickled his thighs. She knew her power, laughing as his dick poked at her backside, feeling its way around. “I bet you’ll turn that pick-up line into a song and have a Top Ten hit.”
“Top five.” He shot back, grinning. “And it’s not a pick-up line if I’ve already laid you down.”
Sylvie snorted, pushing his chest. As she moved to release him, Avi seized his chance, scooping her at the waist and flipping her beneath him.
“For now.” He stole a kiss. “And twenty years from now,”
“Sixty,” she insisted.
“Forty,” he bargained. “Starting now.”
“Avi…?”
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”
The hotel suite came into focus as he blinked. Generic, tastefully appointed. A fully-made king-size bed. At least a dozenpeople he didn’t know milling about. Glasses clinking, laughter. Snow clotting against the windows, twenty stories up from the ground.
