A snap of the menorah in 5/8s of its blazing glory, a bar cart set up beneath it.
The bridges of their city glittering in the background.
Asher taking a knee on the deck.
Talia’s smile through her fingers before extending her hand.
And finally, the group-hug of the gang, piling on the happy couple.
“You’re off the clock, bodyguard.” A light touch to his shoulder; Tzipi had her own camera in hand. “I’ll take over. Go.”
He grinned and loped happily to throw himself into the mix. And they all welcomed him with open arms.
“You were in on this too, weren’t you, Klein?” Talia socked his arm.
“She’s hitting all the guys with bugs in their ears.” Asher laughed, removing his. “I guess these have served their purpose.”
Jonah left his in; he had one more use for it.
“Oh, for the happy couple.” Jonah pulled a slick burgundy key card from his pocket; and watched his friends’ eyes widen in recognition of the elegant Asian fan motif. “A night in the Mandarin Oriental, east penthouse suite. Courtesy Kara Koff.”
The couple followed his gaze to where Tzipi stood, smiling and nodding.
“Just deliver her bag to my place the next morning, okay?”
Asher nodded. “You got it. No questions asked.”
“Um, I don’t know if the guy code applies here, guys.” Talia snuck one more glance. “JoJo, it’s Kara Koff. And,” she chuckled. “Jay gave her permission to make you walk the plank earlier, you know.”
“Really?” Jonah chuckled. Imagine that.
Suddenly, the sky was alive with light. At least a hundred drones rose from an unseen barge and re-formed over the East River, sketching spirals and constellations that shimmered blue and gold overhead. Word spread fast, and soon passengers crowded the deck, every face tilted upward, mouths soft with wonder.
“Two minutes.” Jay was nowhere near, but his murmur was low in Jonah’s IFB. “Stay low, she’ll come up the port side.”
His instructions were almost lost to the collective gasp of the crowd, as the drones formed a spinning star that burst into smaller stars.
“Wow,” Nora whistled beside him. “Eli really pulled out all the stops, didn’t he?”
“Almost all.”
“Jo…?” Nora’s voice held concern and curiosity as he kissed her cheek.
For the guy who was usually the first to the party and the last to leave, it was the closest he could come to an Irish goodbye.
The Matzo Baller’s engines dropped to an even, low thrum as the captain announced over the PA that the vessel was slowing for better visuals.
Above the water, the drones bloomed again – constellations blinking to the slow beat of music. Tzipi pretended to watch, hand on the rail as if she was just another dazzled guest.
But her pulse was like a trapped bird.
Jonah’s voice brushed her ear. “Now.”
Together, they slipped from the crowded deck into a narrow service corridor toward the back of the boat. He took her hand and the lead, his broad shoulders blocking the narrow light up ahead. Tzipi scurried to keep up, aware of every click-clack of her high heels along the metal flooring. Jonah touched his wristband to a small panel. Its green light blinked, and the door slid open to reveal stairs. Down they went; the smell of diesel and river rising to meet them.
The air grew colder with each step, until there were no more steps. Just a short platform, dimly illuminated by a sole utility light. Beyond it lay the night – and slick, black water.
What am I doing? This was insane, movie-level recklessness. But there was no stopping now.
