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“For luck,” I murmured. “And good night. ”
Chapter Fourteen
On Wednesday morning, I’d barely walked in before Tanya popped her head out of her office and said, “Rosenfeld. In here. ”
I glanced at the boys. “You told. ”
Mduduzi had the grace to look guilty, while Jin just wore his normal slouchy expression. I shook my head at them and entered our boss’s office.
She looked up at me from behind her messy desk, covered in mountains and tumbleweeds of paper, and crowned by a laptop and a separate monitor. She stared above it at me in disbelief. “You know Abe Krasner. ”
I felt like a recalcitrant schoolchild, and could barely keep my hands from lacing together before me. My shoulders straightened. “Yes, ma’am. ”
She pinned me with the same gaze she used to interrogate sources. Though I supposed she wouldn’t call it interrogation. “And you didn’t think that was a pertinent piece of information?”
Not really. “I wouldn’t want you to have hired me based on my connections, especially when I don’t intend to exploit them. ”
The disbelief in her expression didn’t dissipate. “Rosenfeld. Do you know anything about the reputation of sports media in the past twenty years?”
I didn’t bristle, but it was a close call. I nodded instead.
“And do you know how people phrase the relationship sports writers often have with sports teams?” She leaned forward, her hands clasped before her. “They say we’re in bed with the teams. ”
I flushed hot all over. “I’m not sleeping with Abe!”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re a young, attractive woman—”
“We’re childhood friends!”
She let loose a sigh of disgust. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. You took this job to report on a childhood friend? In what world did you think you were going to be objective?”
“But I am!”
She leaned back and shook her head. “I should fire you for this, you know. ”
“You can’t fire me for having a friend,” I argued, even though I had no idea whether she could or couldn’t. “That’s discrimination against. . . friendship. ”
She waved a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to fire you. I’m going to use you. ”
Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better.
* * *
At home Lucy had set about planning the dinner party with verve. “So it’s going to be in like two weeks, on the tenth. At least three of my friends are coming,” she told me, after I arrived home after my exhausting interview with Tanya. Lucy stood in the kitchen, making some strange tea. “Two of them are single guys—Hey, are you okay? You look even whiter than usual. ”
I dropped my purse on the floor and leaned against the counter as I poured a glass of water. “Weird day at work. ” Tanya hadn’t said how she planned to use me, but now I thought I knew what an ace in the back pocket might feel like—sat upon and suffocated.
“Weird good or weird bad?”
“Weird—weird, I guess. Bad? Odd, definitely. ”
She looked at me strangely. “You’re definitely acting odd. ”
* * *
The next day at work, our building threw us a tenant appreciation party. “So what is this?” I asked the guys as we took the elevator down. “Like they feed us?”
They all looked at each other and shrugged. “Yeah. ”
“Last year there was a performing monkey,” Carlos said.
Jin frowned. “I don’t remember a monkey. ”
“You were in Philly,” Carlos said. “There was a monkey. It wore a hat. ”
“Is that legal?” I asked.
Mduduzi cocked his head. “For monkeys to wear hats?”
“No, for—for monkeys to perform. ”
Jin gave one of his lackadaisical shrugs. “We perform constantly. ”
“Ha, ha. ” Carlos rolled his eyes.
We sat at a round table, eating our lukewarm burgers and soggy fries and contemplating the other magazines. Mduduzi nodded at a girl who walked by, pulling off a skirt and heels that I never could have. “That one. I was in an elevator with her, and she asked me where I worked, and when I said ST she raised her brows and said ‘Oh. ’”
He managed to infuse the word with enough disdain that I bristled and narrowed my eyes at the girl, but when I turned back to my friends I noticed that Carlos had deflated slightly.
Interesting.
I was considering a Romeo and Juliet situation of epic proportions (Sports journalism, ha! I should be writing for National Enquirer) when my phone went off. I stilled, hope and fear and anticipation flooding me. What if it was Abe? What if it wasn’t Abe? It probably wasn’t; it was the night before a game for him, so he was locked away at some hotel, going over strategies. Paying very close attention to the coaches, I was sure, and not texting me.
I picked up the phone with trembling fingers, and all the nerves whooshed away, washed out by my happiness. Abe.
I’m taking you out on a real date this weekend.
I raised my brows and bit down on my grin. You forgot the question mark.
He responded almost immediately. Didn’t. It’s happening. Otherwise you’re in huge trouble.
I stared at the words, which tingled across my emotions like a mesmerizing spell.
“Tamar?”
I almost jumped out of my skin, and then looked up to see Jin and Mduduzi regarding me quizzically. “You okay, Tamar?” Mduduzi asked.
I nodded. “Oh. Yeah. ”
Jin swiveled slowly toward me. “Who texted?”
My eyes widened. “An, um, old. . . friend. ”
The guys exchanged a glance. Mduduzi smiled at me, but like he was including me on the joke. “A friend like Abe Krasner?”
I dropped my head into my hands and groaned.
“So, what is this?” Jin made one of his vague hand motions, but appeared more invested in the conversation than I’d seen him since the last time we tore apart a game. I guessed he was just as interested in relationship issues as he was in sports. I wondered what he thought about Carlos and Attitude Girl. “You two. ”
“I don’t really know. ”
“Well, is it. . . serious?”
I had a story, and I was sticking to it. “We’re old friends. ”
Everyone sat there silently for a moment.
“Fuck it. ” Carlos looked me straight in the eye. “Are you guys—?”
“No!” I shook my head rapidly. “God. Guys. Wow, let’s not be talking about this. ”
Mduduzi leaned over to try to see my phone. “What’d he say?”
I clicked it dark immediately. “Nothing. ” When they didn’t buy that, I relented. “He wants to hang out. ”
“And? What did you say?”
I looked down at my message, and then typed I suppose I’ll be free on Sunday and clicked send. “I said yes. ”
* * *
Abe and I walked down the quiet streets west of Broadway, the main drag through Astoria. When my grandparents lived here, it had been mostly Eastern European Jewish immigrants, but now the restaurants and bakeries lining our walk slanted Greek and Polish. We paused to buy honey-soaked baklava before continuing on to the address I’d scribbled on the back of a grocery receipt.