“Well,Avi Wolfson’sleather pants. I don’t think Julian Rosenberg would ever be caught dead in such a thing.”
She smirked, that brow quirking adorably. Avi flared his nostrils good-naturedly.Let ‘em poke fun.The big bad Wolf could take it.
Chapter Sixteen
Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and “LATKEPALOOZA, ladies and gentlemen, and children of all ages!” boomed over the PA system. Avi half-expected a DJ to run out with fistfuls of glowsticks to throw into the crowd, like at a rave. Instead, it was a young, conservatively dressed guy. And sure enough, glowsticks. Tzitzit swung back and forth from where it peeked out from beneath his sweater as he ran from side to side, tossing out neon toys and encouraging the crowd to cheer.
Behind him, the grand total from the latke sales and basket raffles flashed on a projection screen: $2,847.
“Thanks to everyone’s generosity tonight – ” the MC tapped the mic “ – and your excellent appetite for potato pancakes, we’re off to a great start. But for those who haven’t heard, we’re hoping to do even more for the Schnee family.”
Avi felt Leah shift beside him on the folding chair.
“Last Tuesday night,” he continued, “the Schnees lost everything in an electrical fire. Thank Hashem, everyone got out safely, but with four kids under ten...” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s hard enough to lose your home. But to lose it during Hanukkah, when the kids were so excited about their presents, their menorah, everything their parents had planned...”
Sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd.
Avi’s hand automatically went to his back pocket, muscle memory reaching for a wallet that wasn’t there. He’d done this a thousand times—spotted someone in need, made a quiet call, arranged whatever was needed. But tonight, he was just another guy in a JCC folding chair, completely powerless to help.
His fingers played with the chain around his neck.
Almost completely powerless.
“We’re still looking for some big-ticket items for tomorrow night’s auction,” the MC continued to rally the crowd. “Something to light up their Hanukkah...”
Avi caught Leah’s eye. She looked stricken, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—they’d snuck into the latke line as “volunteers” to grab some free dinner, no clue they were taking food from a fundraiser. He watched her hand drift to her coat pocket, probably checking what was left of her dwindling cash. She’d been carrying them both for days now, and his gratitude was matched only by his guilt.
“Hey.” He touched her elbow. “Think we should get going? I just need to hit the restroom before we get back on the road.”
“Oh!” Her eyes darted toward the kitchen. “I need to...check something. With the latke ladies.”
They were terrible liars, both of them.
“Meet at the exit in ten minutes?” he suggested.
She nodded, already backing away.
Avi watched her go, then scanned the crowd.
The ring’s weight felt heavier with each step. Two months ago, in Vegas, Sylvie had handed it back with a smile and a “not for me.” He’d kept wearing it because...well, he wasn’t sure why.Habit? Fear?
Watching it become part of the Schnees’ miracle felt like a fresh start.
Now he needed someone to handle the auction item discreetly. The last thing he needed was for his “anonymous” donation to blow his cover.
The man Leah had pointed out earlier as the jeweler, Sam, smiled as Avi neared. The old man’s eyes crinkled – no doubt delighted at the sight of a grown-ass adult, sans child, approaching. “What’ll it be, young sir? Your standard poodle? A pangolin?”
Avi didn’t even have a clue of what a pangolin was, but there was no time to inquire about that now. He glanced around to ensure Leah wasn’t listening. “I heard you’re a jeweler. I need an honest appraisal.”
Sam’s expression shifted from jovial to professional as Avi handed him the ring.
“Beautiful specimen. Impressive clarity.” Sam pulled a loupe from his pocket. “Not a family heirloom?”
“Not even close.” The Vegas impulse purchase had had a high stakes price tag, as did most things there. “I know what I paid for it. But what’s it worth for the auction?”
“Complete standstill on 81?” The JCC’s volunteer check-in lady, Hannah, hurried past, phone pressed to her ear. “Iheard Route 17 has black ice, too...jackknifed trucks...no, we should cancel tomorrow morning’s delivery just in case.”
Avi’s pulse kicked in at words “black ice.” No way Bertha could handle that, even with her two new all-season radials. Dammit, they were so close and yet so far. Normally, Avi wouldn’t think twice about finishing up the drive at night, rolling into Manhattan at two o’clock in the morning. Hell, Asher’s bar was still in full swing. But he couldn’t risk Leah – or Bertha, for that matter.
