by Jo Leigh
Whatever she’d been saying was lost as she watched him approach. He wore jeans, a dark blue polo shirt and a smile. She wondered if she’d forgotten something at his loft.
By the time he reached the group, everyone was staring at him. His smile dimmed and his step faltered. “I was told I could join the tour even though I’m late. Is that okay?”
Now all eyes were on Natalie. She opened her mouth and then stood there mutely as she tried to get a grip. Finally, she nodded. It took several more seconds for her to say, “If you’d like to, that’s fine. We were just talking about film preservation.”
“Great,” he said. “Thanks. Sorry for the interruption.”
Natalie tried to force herself to focus on the task at hand and scrambled to reconnect with her core eleven. “Saving films is expensive. In, uh, 2011, no 2010, it cost almost twenty thousand dollars to remaster a seven-reel black-and-white silent feature. That’s not counting any special restoration work. Creating a digital video for public viewing adds another three grand to the total. Preserving a movie with sound can cost—uh...”
She knew this. She’d given the same talk at least a hundred times in the two and a half years she’d worked there.
“From fifty to one hundred thousand dollars,” Elizabeth said, making her way toward Natalie. When she got close, she whispered, “If you need to speak to your friend, I can take over.”
“Oh, no. He’s just... I don’t... I should...”
“Go. I promise I won’t screw up, and this’ll look good on my résumé.” Elizabeth turned her attention to the group. “Do you mind if I fill in for a bit? I’m doing my PhD on film preservation, and though I’ll never be as accomplished as Natalie, I promise not to make things up.”
The tour group responded with gentle laughter and seemingly approved, so Natalie nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” Then she turned to Max. He looked as if he was about to bolt. She gestured for him to join her, and they didn’t speak until they arrived at the elevator that led to the lobby and her office. When the doors closed and the old Otis began its journey up, he cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“It’s okay. Really. Elizabeth is very capable of leading the tour. She’ll probably end up working here.”
Upon exiting the elevator, they were greeted by old movie posters that dotted the brick walls of the lobby. The building’s high ceilings carried the sound of their footsteps as they walked down the long hallway to her office.
“I won’t keep you,” he said as he looked around her office and then at her. “I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea to walk in without calling first. I was just down the street—”
“It’s fine,” she said and took a seat in one of the guest chairs while he sat in the other. “Honestly. I don’t mind at all. But I am curious as to why you’re here.”
“I saw M last night. The Fritz Lang movie.”
“Really?”
“You’d mentioned it, and there it was on TV. It was great. Really great, and creepy as hell. I liked that it was in black and white. The shadows. Man. I wanted to talk to you about it. Maybe over dinner tonight?”
Natalie’s heart had been racing since she’d caught sight of Max, but now it was trying to pound out of her chest. He wanted to take her to dinner. She hadn’t dared dream of such a thing.
“I know I’m breaking the rules,” he said, studying her closely.
“Rules?”
“Yeah, the one-night thing?”
“Oh, right.” She shrugged and gave him a shaky smile. “It’s okay.”
“Good.” He exhaled. “Because I looked up some stuff about Lang on Wikipedia, and that got me interested in seeing more films like that, and since you’re an expert, I thought we could talk about it over some food.”
“Huh. That’s great. It’s always a thrill when someone gets turned on like that. To old movies, I mean. It’s such a rich field of study. You mentioned dinner?” She doubted she’d ever been this awkward before. “What time?”
“Six?”
“It’s going to have to be closer to seven—” The buzzer on her desk sounded like a foghorn in the small room. Had it always been that loud? “Excuse me.”
She picked up the phone. It was Rick. “Why is there a student taking our group on a tour?”
“It’s only for few minutes, and she knows the spiel by heart.” Natalie turned toward the wall, but in the mirror above her chair, she could see Max stand. Behind him was her mint-condition framed print of Betty Grable as a pinup girl. The sight made her blush. “I had an unexpected visitor.”
“Okay,” Rick said. “Just wondering.”
“I’m wrapping things up right now.”
Rick gave his standard goodbye grunt.
Max was already at her door. “I’m off. I’ll text you later, okay? We’ll work out the details.”
“Please don’t be concerned. My boss was just checking. He’s a great guy, and he doesn’t care so much as worry that everyone’s okay.”
“Good,” Max said. “Tell him I won’t make the same mistake again. Next time, I’ll call first and join a tour for real.”
Next time? She tried to keep her cool and succeeded for the most part, although her grin might have given too much away. “I’ll walk you out.”
“That’s okay. I promise to go directly to the lobby.”
“I have to walk there anyway.”
His chin dropped to his chest. “Good thing I’m a savvy New York attorney or I’d be embarrassed about this.”
She laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, all you’re doing is evening the score.”
He bumped her shoulder, a now-familiar gesture that filled her tummy with butterflies as they walked. “You know what? It does. Thanks.”
At the elevator, he didn’t linger, and she didn’t have to wait, so the goodbye was short. At least the ride back down was private and slow, so she could freak out without being seen.
A second date! Who would have imagined? She’d been so certain he wouldn’t want to see her again, and here he’d walked to her office and sought her out in person. And that was after watching a film she’d recommended. She settled for a squeak instead of shouting as the elevator bumped to a halt. Then she stepped back into tour guide mode. It worked...until she got within two feet of the tour group and remembered the polka-dot panties. Tonight she would take no chances. After work she’d go to a real lingerie store and make sure she not only matched, but looked as fabulous as she could. She knew just the place.
* * *
WHEN MAX ARRIVED home, he figured he should probably pick up his dry cleaning from the place around the corner. Lord knew it had been awhile since he’d dropped it off. After Max paid his bill, the owner of the cleaners, Mr. Nadeau, warned him that if he used their business as a storage closet again, Max would be banned for life. It was the third or fourth time he’d received the warning, and he hadn’t meant to leave his suits and shirts for so long, but his life had gotten so out of control that even something as vital as laundry got skipped in favor of sleep.
Hopefully, this next step in his career would afford him more access to interns. It was an evil system, using those college kids for every kind of grunt work. Back when he was the one sent out to pay parking tickets, stand in line for theater tickets, pick up everything from flowers to jewelry to new curtains, he’d sworn he’d never support that kind of slave labor. The last three years had made him rethink his stance on the practice.
His hypocrisy rankled for a minute before disappearing at the sight of a beautiful woman walking toward him on the busy street. She was exactly his type. Tall and willowy, but not skeletal, her confidence shining as brightly as her hair.
As they passed each other, she gave him a nod of approval, and he returned her acknowledgme
nt with a wolfish smile. A variation on the secret handshake that was just another part of his charmed life. On any other day, he would have turned around and asked her out for coffee, but he didn’t want to be late meeting Natalie.
He’d gone through a phase of feeling guilty about his luck. He’d been born to a middle-class family, inherited his good looks and a relatively high IQ. But it hadn’t made sense to feel rotten about it. He could only be responsible for what he did with his good fortune, not for having it in the first place.
At the corner of Delancey and Bowery, he pulled out his cell phone and called Natalie. He still didn’t understand why he’d made such a mess of things earlier. Why he’d thought it would be okay to barge into her work like that. Maybe because the building was open to the public? Or maybe it was his nerves. He had that cocktail party to go to at nine, and he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave his firm. He honestly didn’t think it was complacency on his part. It was a simple matter of needing more time to figure out what was best for his career.
For now, though, all he really cared about was that Natalie had agreed to have dinner with him. They would eat and get involved in what he hoped would be a fascinating discussion. In fact, he was counting on it. That way, he would not only forget about the cocktail party, but seeing Natalie again, without tonight being a date, per se, could be the beginning of a friendship.
“Hello?” she said, before the third ring. It was noisy on her end as well as his own, the sound of the city an unmistakable soundtrack.
“Hey,” he said. “How about trying again at Lviv? I feel like I missed out on something interesting when we bolted.”
She didn’t answer straightaway. When she did, she sounded hesitant. “Sure. That’d be fine. You do realize the family will probably be annoying.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t. But if you’d prefer to go elsewhere, that’s okay. I should warn you that I have to be somewhere at nine, so if we could stick to the Lower East Side or midtown, that would be good.”
Again, there was a sizable chunk of ambient noise before she spoke. “No, Lviv is fine,” she said finally. “In fact, I’ll call ahead. Let them know we’ll be there at seven, but we need to be out of there by what, eight-thirty?”
“Yeah, around there. You sure it’s okay with you? Seriously, I don’t mind a change of venue.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure you get to try some of the more interesting dishes.”
“That sounds perfect,” he said, but had to practically scream at this point because of a siren. “I’ll see you at seven?”
“Yes,” she shouted back. “Bye.”
That accomplished, he was free to think about the cocktail party after. It was the first of four he’d been invited to, all held by partners in rival law firms. Tonight, he’d be meeting with Beckingham & Quail, who’d won more tort cases than Latham, Kirkland and Jones. The gathering was ostensibly for the firm’s fifteenth anniversary, but Max had been assured that he was going to be the main attraction.
His recruiter, Stella, had given him a rundown on what would go down at Parlor, a private club, and who the main players were. He was as prepared as he could be, given the stakes, but he didn’t want to overthink the situation.
That was why seeing Natalie beforehand was such a great idea. She’d ground him. Make sure his head was on straight before he was seduced by promises that may or may not come true.
* * *
THERE WASN’T A candle on the table this time. Natalie had called ahead and explained to her aunt Hanna that tonight would be a brief dinner with a friend. Nothing more.
She’d thought about changing out of her new underwear after she and Max had talked. But the truth was, there was no one else to wear it for anyway, Thinking about how much money she’d spent on the stupid lingerie, she sighed, and kept watching for Max. He’d be walking through the door any minute, and she had to quit obsessing over the fact that she’d been so wrong about things.
In the hour since Max’s call, she’d climbed all the way up the chastisement ladder, settling somewhere between being an unrealistic dreamer and a delusional idiot. Instead, as she surreptitiously adjusted the back strap of her very expensive, gorgeous bra, she pondered the idea of having Max as a friend.
It should have been appealing in every way, but it wasn’t. Not when she was so attracted to him. Not when he’d turned her sexual world upside down. It would be like playing with a tiger—very dangerous to her well-being.
So they’d talk about M and sample some Ukrainian specialties, and she’d try to end the evening feeling better than she did now. Thank goodness he had to leave at eight-thirty. It would leave her with plenty of time afterward to go home and lick her wounds.
Behind her, from the kitchen, she heard Victor and his arch nemesis, her cousin Ivan, who also owned a Ukrainian restaurant, argue. It got louder as a waiter walked through to the dining room, and dimmed again as the kitchen door settled back into place.
Their table was closer to the kitchen than she’d like, even though there wasn’t a customer in the restaurant who wouldn’t hear at least some of the argument. She also knew that no one likely cared. At least, none of the regulars. Her crazy family had been quarreling since before they’d left the old country and they’d never stopped. They didn’t give a damn who heard, and she normally tuned it out. She really shouldn’t have agreed to come back here. Oh, well, she’d warned him...
Max entered the restaurant.
He wore an impeccably tailored suit. The dark navy set off his eyes, and the white shirt, undone at the collar, set off his amazing face perfectly. Whatever he had going on after dinner had to be important.
Probably a date.
The thought made her breath catch.
No, Max wouldn’t be that callous. Although if he only considered her a friend...
She had to stop. Just stop. She forced a smile. Not just a smile, but one that matched his greeting. Easy, friendly.
As he got closer, a wellspring of memories shot through her. The pizza, the walk, the polka-dot panties, the thrill, the hope, the letting go. It seemed impossible that she could have such strong connections to a single night. And here he was again, nothing like the man she was looking for. Just the man she didn’t dare want.
Before he sat, he kissed her cheek and gave her a quick once-over. She hadn’t dressed up. She’d thought of wearing the outfit she’d had on at Omnibus, but instead she’d chosen one just like it. Black pants, royal-green silk button-down, black jacket slung over the back of the chair. The only thing new about her was hidden, beneath her clothes. Beneath her smile.
“I really am sorry about this afternoon. I’m not usually such a dope.” He put his napkin on his lap and took a sip of water. “I’m so glad you were free tonight. I’ve been thinking of that movie all day.”
“It’s a great film,” she said. “I—”
The voices from the kitchen intruded. Loudly. Max looked startled and more than a little concerned as he stared at the swinging door behind her cousin Zoya.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Natalie said. “That’s just my uncle Victor and his brother-in-law Ivan. They both own restaurants, they both come from the same village and they both think the other stole their recipe for cholent. They argue about it every time they’re together. Everyone who comes to Lviv or the Litvak has heard this routine a thousand times.”
He stared at her as the voices became almost operatic in their shouting. “The food must be fantastic here.”
Natalie laughed, and it was as if the heaviness that had bowed her since his phone call had lifted. Okay, so maybe friend could be allowed back on the table. “It is. Both of them are incredible cooks. So are their wives, but to them it’s not life or death.”
“So, can I order this infamous dish? What was it, chent?”
“Cho
lent,” she repeated. “It’s a slow-cooked stew and, sorry, you can’t get it tonight. It’s only served on Thursday and Friday. Most people buy it by the quart. It’s actually not on the regular menu. However, I took the liberty of ordering dinner. A sampling of traditional dishes.”
“Thanks, that sounds perfect,” he said, leaning forward, his hand on his water glass. “I’m just sorry it has to be a short night. I’ve got this cocktail party to go to. It’s a work thing. I’m up for a promotion at my firm, but since the last case was so successful, I’ve got some outside interest as well. So while it’s called a cocktail party, it’s actually an interview where you can get drunk during instead of after.”
Although she was pleased his engagement at nine wasn’t a date, she didn’t want to show it. Instead she said, “I didn’t realize you weren’t happy at your firm.”
“No, I am,” he said. “But it would be dumb not to explore what’s out there. The firm hosting tonight’s affair has a very high success rate and impressive clients who bring in really challenging cases.”
She chuckled, although she didn’t envy him. “Wow. Big night.”
“Yes.”
“No wonder you look so dapper.”
He rolled his eyes, but before he could comment, the kitchen door opened again and most of her family walked out, several of them carrying dishes. Zoya, who was nineteen, arrived at the table first with a bottle of the same red she’d brought them last time. “Be prepared,” she whispered quickly to Natalie. “Mama mentioned your friend was a lawyer.”
Natalie winced. As the juggernaut of Ukrainians approached, with murder in their eyes and their English, she touched the back of Max’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “At any moment, feel free to run.”
His right eyebrow rose as the first plate, with three different kinds of pierogi, was placed on the table. The second dish was borscht, the third, kasha varnishkes, and the fourth, fish in aspic. Basically, a buffet of starters.
“You are attorney,” Uncle Victor said, loud enough for the people across the street to hear. “I want to hire you to sue the pants off my thief of a cousin. Tonight!”
