by Dov Nardimon
Chapter 32
Mickey’s interest grew, and he met with Reuben more and more often. There was no way for Reuben to keep hiding the fact that he was meeting with Mickey, as it became a regular habit for him to leave the company earlier than usual. Eventually he told Eddie about reaching out to Mickey.
What started as a one-time experience became a regular, addictive habit, despite Eddie, who still wouldn’t join the meetings, being discontent. Lunch or an afternoon cocktail with a little joint for dessert rendered Reuben’s take on life highly optimistic. The depression that usually followed his sobering up would set in as he would come home at night. Ronit started to get concerned there was some bigger problem behind the occasional tantrums he would throw and tried to talk to Reuben about it.
“In this house you’re my wife, not my doctor, so don’t try to analyze me,” he would respond angrily.
One afternoon when Reuben arrived at the yacht, Mickey’s administrative assistant, Tzipi, was waiting for him on deck.
“Mickey was called to an urgent meeting in Brussels, something to do with his diamond businesses. Those diamond dealers are always happy to learn of new investment potentials, and Mickey said he’s going to take this opportunity to tell them about Ebocell-Tech. He didn’t want to cancel your usual meeting, so he suggested I meet you instead so that we can talk a bit about the company, especially about some administrative issues. Mickey says we’re moving toward investing in you guys, and he always likes to leave the nitty-gritty bits for me to handle. So let’s talk.”
“Yes, absolutely, that’s a great idea,” said Reuben. Conversations between him and Mickey had long exhausted all issues related to Ebocell-Tech, and Reuben wondered when Mickey’s enthusiasm was finally going to progress into the practical stages of an actual contract. He had met Tzipi in Mickey’s office a few times before and was glad to hear what she was saying now and to know that things were moving forward.
“I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend. This is Carolina; she’s the marketing director of one of Mickey’s partners from Miami. She’s visiting Israel for a few days and staying with me.”
“Nice to meet you. Reuben Nevo.” He reached out his hand to a gorgeous Latina woman who stepped up from the yacht and onto the deck. The woman wore a thin-strapped, low-cut yellow dress that generously displayed her magnificent, bra-free breasts.
“Very nice to meet you. I’m Carolina,” she said with a Spanish accent and smiled her thick, red lips that parted to reveal her bright white teeth.
“Carolina was born in Cuba and moved to Miami when she was fifteen,” explained Tzipi.
“I see. Cuba has more to be proud of than just its excellent cigars,” said Reuben, surprising himself with the ability to dish out such a smooth compliment.
“It’s the skillful hands of the Cuban girls that make the cigars so excellent.” Carolina smiled, and her hand gestures seemed evocative of something other than a cigar.
“Let’s go to the living room. Carolina has made some exotic Cuban cocktails,” Tzipi placed a hand on Reuben’s back and led him to follow Carolina down.
Too bad there are only four steps, thought Reuben, his eyes glued to Carolina’s sensually swaying behind, with her clearly visible thong under her thin dress disappearing between her two perfect butt cheeks.
“L’Chaim,” said Carolina in Hebrew and handed Reuben a yellow-red cocktail with sugar sprinkled around the rim of the glass.
“Salud!” said Reuben, giving her the only Spanish he knew, and they touched glasses.
“Here’s to Ebocell-Tech,” toasted Tzipi in Hebrew, reminding Reuben why he came to the yacht in the first place.
Tzipi brought out Mickey’s cigar box, opened it, and offered the other two a choice. “Why not start with one of these fun little guys? The cigar tastes so much better after one of these.”
“Oh yeah, Mickey’s already taught me that secret.” Reuben picked up a joint.
“You’ll excuse me if I just have a cigarette, I hope. I’m still jet lagged,” apologized Carolina, and she took out a packet of Marlboro cigarettes from her purse.
“Actually, I have a bit of a headache, so I think I’ll just go for a cigarette, too,” said Tzipi, and she took out a cigarette for herself from Carolina’s packet.
“You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of coming here just for my sake if you’re not feeling well,” said Reuben, apologizing right away.
“Oh, don’t be silly. The yacht is the only place where I can unwind. An hour in the fresh air with a drink and some pleasant company, and I’m set. Let’s go out on the deck for a bit. We’ll watch the sunset and talk business.”
They went on deck with their drinks and smokes.
“What an amazing sight.” Carolina inhaled the fresh sea air, and her proud breasts looked like they were trying to break out of her thin dress. “In Miami we get wonderful views of the sun rising in the east, but I haven’t seen the sun setting into the ocean since we left Cuba twenty years ago.”
“Is this your first time in Israel?” asked Reuben, never taking his eyes of her cleavage, which grew more and more visible with every breath of sea air she took.
“It is, and unfortunately I’m only here for a few days,” she said tilting her head to the side and allowing the light breeze to sweep back her silky black hair away from her eyes.
Three hours later Reuben woke up to find himself lying naked on his stomach in one of the yacht’s sleeping cabins. The smell of sweat and semen filled the cabin, and the sheet felt sticky against his skin. He jumped up from the bunk in a panic and tried to find his clothes in the dark. His illuminated wristwatch read 8:45 p.m. He remembered he had promised Ronit he would be home by eight o’clock for dinner with her parents who had come to visit from Haifa.
“Easy there, Reuben. Here, let me turn on the lights for you.” The lights went on and Carolina kissed him lustily in nothing but a thong. “You were great.” She stroked his cheek and as she pulled away, casually brushed his erect member.
“Where’s Tzipi?” he asked.
“She’s picking us up for dinner in fifteen minutes.”
“I have to go right away. I’m already late as it is,” he said, panicked.
“I thought our night was just beginning,” said Carolina in a seductive voice.
“I, eh, I don’t know what to say, Carolina. I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but I have to go home. I’ve had guests waiting for me since eight o’clock.”
“What just happened here was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, Reuben, and I’d hate for it to end.” Carolina clung to Reuben who in the meantime had put on his pants and was trying to zip them up without hurting his loins that seemed to have a will of their own.
“I have to go now, Carolina.” He stroked her hair, trying to appease her. “Where are you staying? I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”
“I’m staying with Tzipi at her apartment.”
“Does she know about what happened between us?”
“Of course. I mean, we said good-bye and told her to come back at nine o’clock before we went downstairs.”
Reuben couldn’t remember. “That’s not good. I hope she keeps it to herself.”
“Don’t be a child. Tzipi is a good friend, and this sort of thing happens to everyone. It doesn’t happen often enough if you ask me. In any case, you can be certain this will stay between us.”
“She won’t tell Mickey?”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”
“Ok, then here’s my card with my cell phone number. I don’t want to call Tzipi’s home, so you call me in the morning.”
“Hang on, Reuben. Don’t leave me here on my own. Tzipi should be here any minute.”
“Ok. Let’s go up on deck and wait for her there.”
“You go on up. I’ll get dressed and follow you in a minute.”
The cool ocean breeze helped Reuben wake up as he climbed on deck.
He saw Tzipi approaching, waving cheerfull
y.
“Hi Tzipi. Carolina will be right up.”
“Great, I’ve made a dinner reservation at a restaurant here in the marina.”
Reuben apologized. Tzipi feigned disappointment and allowed him to leave without embarrassing him with any more questions.
He called Ronit from his car and apologized for being so late.
“We’re already at the restaurant—Poseidon on the beach in Herzliya,” said Ronit dryly.
“I’m really close. I got stuck in a meeting in Mickey’s office. I can be there in ten minutes.”
“We’d be happy if you joined us. You’ve missed the starters—we’ve had delicious prawn cocktails—but you can still make it to the entrees,” said Ronit, trying to sound as up-beat as possible in front of her parents.
“I’ll be right there.”
Reuben didn’t even need to move his car. He sat in it for a few more minutes, trying to recompose himself and make sense of what had just happened to him. He looked at himself in the little mirror in the faint light, just to make sure he was still his same old self. When he calmed down a bit, he stepped out of the car and walked to the restaurant that was one dock away from Mickey’s yacht. He hoped Ronit and her parents were seated inside and that they didn’t see him getting off the yacht. He prayed the dinner reservation Tzipi had made wasn’t for the same restaurant. He had no desire whatsoever to deal with Tzipi and Carolina with his wife and her parents there.
The next day Tzipi called Reuben for some technical details about Ebocell-Tech. “By the way,” she said before hanging up, “Carolina wanted me to tell you she had a wonderful time. She was called in to an urgent meeting in Europe first thing tomorrow morning and is flying to Amsterdam tonight, so she won’t be able to say good-bye to you in person.”
“Thanks,” said Reuben in a clearly disappointed voice.
“She said she’ll hold on to your number for her next visit.” Tzipi’s tone was very suggestive.
“Will she be coming here more often?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“Three or four times a year. I promise to give you a heads up, and we’ll meet again on board the Suzy.”
“Thanks, Tzipi, and, eh, please keep this between us.”
“Of course, Reuben. You have a nice day.”
Mickey had named his yacht the Suzy after his wife, but Suzy herself never used it. A few months after she bought Mickey the yacht with her millionaire father’s money as a surprise for his fortieth birthday, Suzy was having lunch with a friend at the marina. She wanted to show her friend the new boat and found her husband naked with a young woman in one of the cabins. Suzy shut the door quickly and hauled her friend off before she had the chance to realize what was going on.
It wasn’t news to Suzy that Mickey was cheating on her, but it was the first time she saw it with her own eyes. This happening on the yacht that she gave her husband for his birthday, the yacht he had named after her, made her feel absolutely mortified and more humiliated than she had ever felt in her entire life.
Chapter 33
If it weren’t for their two children who had been born in Israel, the country she fell in love with, Suzy would have left Mickey and returned to her loving family nest in New Haven, CT, a long time ago. When she was in high school, she joined her father on a philanthropic visit to Israel. The trip made such an impression on her that making Aliyah—immigrating to Israel—became a dream she promised herself she was going to make a reality one day. Out of sight, out of mind. Suzy—who, in the meantime, graduated from a local university in New Haven—forgot about her dream and started working in the office of the venture fund run by her older brother. The capital for the fund came from the family’s fish businesses, and it was only natural that Suzy, who majored in economics, worked on the family fund.
The fund offices were housed in an old building that the family had owned for two generations. The building had been completely renovated and its traditional, eighteenth-century New-England façade beautifully restored. It sat across the full length of one of the city square’s four edges opposite the town hall. Its distinguished location matched the reputable character of its owners and dwellers.
The fund was run by Suzy’s brother, and her father was head of its board. It was considered medium in size, but one that made top-quality investments, especially in medicine and biotechnology. The projects were such that they were typically conceived at one of Boston’s prestigious and luxurious universities located in the picturesque green little towns surrounding it. New Haven was close enough to Boston so that every starting entrepreneur in the area would come to it before daring to try and meet with the big sharks in New York. That way the fund had the opportunity to enter these innovative projects right at the seed stage without having to compete with the New York fund giants.
Suzy’s parents were delighted when one day their daughter returned from New York and told them at the Shabbat dinner table that she had met an Israeli guy. At the time, twenty-five-year-old Suzy was having a relationship with the son of one of New Haven’s richest families. They say money always attracts money, but in this case, one of the monies wasn’t Jewish, which worried Suzy’s parents very much.
During that week Suzy was involved in a road show, marketing a company to investors. The family fund had put in the seed money, and Suzy spent the week in New York. She had a meeting at a law firm that represented another investor, and there she met a paralegal—an economist who was about to finish his law internship. The Israeli guy was named Mickey Rush.
They looked at each other with their two sets of blue eyes and fire ignited between them right on the spot. Tall Mickey with his broad shoulders looked down at petite, brunette Suzy—her skin tanned from a week in the Caribbean with her boyfriend. At first sight Suzy was sure Mickey was Scandinavian. With his light-colored hair and piercing-blue eyes, she had no idea he was Israeli.
During those days Mickey hardly saw daylight. He was working all hours of the day and late into the night at the law firm under the harsh neon lights. It was the most difficult, demanding year in his whole life. He had never worked that hard before. He swore to himself once his internship was over he was never going to sell his soul to his career ever again. Or his body to Bernard, the senior partner at the firm and Mickey’s patron who enjoyed Mickey’s body in a humiliating twice-weekly routine. Mickey swore he was going to find a way to build finances that would allow him to control his own life, and no moral inhibitions were going to get in his way. “My friends call me Bernie,” whispered Bernard into Mickey’s ear after their first intercourse, and Bernie he called him from then on.
The year was 1990, and the hi-tech bubble was starting to generate its first young millionaires—creative, talented entrepreneurs from the computer and communication fields. The growing bubble attracted more money and capital than ever before, and Mickey too was dreaming of exploiting it to make his own wealth. What he lacked was that Archimedean point—that financial base he could leverage to infinity. The day he met Suzy at the law firm, he still didn’t know he had found his Archimedean point, which in this case was covered in pure gold. They spent the entire week working closely together and sharing late dinners. On the night before Suzy was meant to return to Connecticut, she invited Mickey to stay with her at the luxurious Marriott on Times Square.
“My treat,” she said before he had the chance to be scared by the six-hundred-dollar-a-night expense. It was pretty much the equivalent of his weekly income at the law firm, not including the bonuses he was given twice a week by his patron in exchange for sexual favors. Two weeks later Mickey was already spending the weekend at the Berkowitz family residence in New Haven.
At the end of their Shabbat dinner together, the whole family, including Suzy’s brother, Erwin, and his usually judgmental wife found Mickey totally charming. Socializing had always been one of his strengths. He was a great storyteller and a pleasant conversationalist, and above all, he knew how to sell himself, his skills, and abilities, and went to gr
eat lengths to leave the impression he wanted.
Two months later, Suzy and Mickey announced their intention to get married and to move to Israel. Suzy’s father was happy and proud to hear the news. The generous Jewish philanthropist now had something much more significant to brag about in the community—his own daughter was making Aliyah, leaving the paradise of New Haven for the harsh reality of Israel. Suzy’s mother reacted with mixed emotions. On the one hand she was glad the risk of her daughter marrying a gentile was over, but on the other, she hated the thought of her moving halfway across the globe. Their big house was already feeling too empty since Erwin moved out, and now Suzy was going as well.
They had a luxurious wedding at an expensive hotel in New Haven. A few weeks before the wedding, Suzy’s father told Mickey he was setting aside several million dollars that would allow them to buy a house at a prestigious neighborhood in Israel and start Mickey’s law firm.
The father had only one request. “The firm must be named Rush-Berkowitz. As you know, my brother and business partner is also a lawyer and even practiced for a few years before he got sucked into our business. It will be no problem to name him in the title, although you’ll have full ownership. I never made Aliyah myself and did not immigrate to Israel, but at least that way my daughter and my name will,” he said, smiling resignedly. Mickey happily agreed to his father-in-law’s request. He knew having an American lawyer in the firm title would benefit business in Israel. Suzy’s father had a part of his dream fulfilled, but Mickey has his life’s dream realized completely—to become rich, and fast.
Just because he was engaged to Suzy, Mickey was not free from fulfilling his sexual obligations to his boss. He was counting the weeks he had left ’til the end of his internship, when he would finally get that saving letter confirming his duties were complete. Until then he was like a puppet on a string, manipulated by Bernard’s sexual appetites.
It was the mid-1980s and Mickey and Bernard were tied to one another by the secret of their homosexual relationship. Neither one of them was going to risk exposing the other man’s secret since they would both pay a terrible price—in their marriages, their professional lives, and the career Bernard had made and Mickey was only starting to establish. Mickey, who left boarding school as a young boy because he couldn’t stand being Avi’s whore, found himself selling his body over and over again and was fine with it. He convinced himself that it was something he was just better at than other people. Women and men wanted him, and he used both sexes to his advantage and physical pleasures. As long as it served his greedy goal—to become rich—it was ok.
