CHAPTER 10

PEACOCK

MIRYAM

“This is not a pity date, okay? It’s a service for which I am paying. And there will be no sex. Got it? None.”

How did I get to a point in my life where I’m saying those words? How? Everything was perfect. Now I’m sitting in a Starbucks begging a hooker to pretend to date me. Of course the escort Sasha found is the same creep who groped me in the club. Of course. But, I’m out of time to find anyone else, so I don’t have much choice. This is messed up on so many levels. I can’t hate this any more than I do. I’ve tried and I can’t. I’m at maximum hate-age.

“No sex. Got it.” He’s laughing at me. Asshole.

“I mean it. If I so much as see the tip of your penis come out, I will kick it into your throat.” I don’t have time for bullshit from a prostitute.

“Jesus! Calm down, lady.”

I’m liking this guy less by the second. “Don’t ever tell a woman to calm down. Don’t you know this? Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of expert on women in… your field?”

He closes his eyes and huffs. “I know plants. I don’t know sh… anything about women.” He leans his chair back on two legs. “What non-sexual service do you need?”

That’s better. Down to business. “I need you to pretend to be my fiancé… um, ex-fiancé, David, for one day.” One day and then I’ll figure out how to tell my bubbie I’m going to be an old spinster. I just can’t deal with it now. I need to find a new firm since David and his tramp clearly intend to stay. I need to find a new place to live so I can get off Sheba’s couch. Then I’ll tell my grandmother that David isn’t who any of us thought he was. She’s so frail. I hope she can handle it. I’m barely handling it.

“Why is he your ex-fiancé?” He puts emphasis on the ex, which is plain rude.

“No personal questions allowed!” Sheesh, this guy. First, he thinks he can touch my boobs, then he thinks he has a right to know the most private parts of my life. His overreaching sense of entitlement is off the charts.

He raises his eyebrows. “You have a lot of rules. Where am I pretending to be David?”

That’s an easier question. “At my cousin’s son’s bar mitzvah.”

His mouth pops open and the front legs of his chair smack on the floor. “I’m going to a family event pretending to be your ex? Are you nuts? Hasn’t your family met the guy you were marrying?”

I wave him off. “It’ll be fine. I just need you to fool my grandmother. My aunts are aware of the situation, and they are the only other ones who met Dav… him.” His name still catches in my throat from time to time.

“Why are you trying to trick your own grandmother?” He folds his arms over his chest and sits back in his chair.

“I said no personal questions.” Tomorrow is going to be the longest day ever.

“Look, lady. I’m not in the business of hurting the elderly. I don’t want any part of this.” He pushes his chair back and gets up.

He’s got some damn balls. “You sleep with desperate women for money. All of the sudden you have morals?”

He freezes and stares at me. Something flashes in his eyes. He goes from amused and disinterested to fiery in a second. He looks like a different person altogether. “It’s not like that. Of all my clients, you’re the most desperate one I’ve seen. You shouldn’t talk about things you don’t know about.”

I make my living arguing and talking. It’s not often that I’m left speechless.

He pushes his chair in and then leans over the table, looking at my face. “Wait. I know you.” He laughs, but he doesn’t really sound amused. “You’re that bitch I ran into all dressed up in your bride-to-be penis outfit. What happened to you?”

This is superb. Even the hooker knows my shame. I’m sure I look very different from that night. My eyes are puffy with dark circles. My hair is in a ponytail. I haven’t washed this hoodie in a week and I’ve worn it almost every day. I only wear makeup when I can’t avoid going into the office. I’m a shell of a person. I thought I was cried out, but my bottom lip starts quivering like a traitor.

Shit.

Words start tumbling out and I don’t know how to stop them. “I’m sorry. You’re not wrong. I am desperate.” I use a brown napkin to muffle my cries until I can get myself under control again. “My grandmother is old and sick and has a great mistrust of gentile doctors. I’m afraid she won’t be with us much longer. She loved David. I can’t tell her that he… that we’re not together anymore. It will break her heart. She lost her sight to glaucoma more than six months ago. She won’t be able to see you. All you have to do is be there and not talk much. Do you think you can do that?”

His eyes are huge. He glances to the door and back at my undoubtedly puffy red face. His jaw shifts left and then right. “I don’t like the sound of any of this.” He’s quiet for another beat and then lets out the longest sigh. “But I’ll do it.”

I blow my nose into the scratchy napkin. How far I’ve fallen. “You will?”

He sits back down. “That’s what I just said. I’m not Jewish, though. I went to an Episcopalian wedding once. That’s the closest brush I’ve had with religion.”

I smile for the first time in a while. This is a huge relief. I hate being dependent upon strangers, but I really needed this big oaf of a man to help me. “Pretending to be Jewish is easy. Complain a lot about some minorly annoying thing and bitch about how much things cost. You’ll fit right in.”

His eyebrows shoot up and merge together. “That’s a little racist.”

I shake my head. “Whatever. We’re short on time. I can’t go through six thousand years of history with you. I had to skip to the end.”

***

I don’t know why, but I put extra care into my appearance. Maybe I’m tired of feeling like a slob. Maybe I don’t want my extended family to see how pitiful I am. But it’s definitely not to impress the man I’m paying to be my plus one, no matter how attractive he is. I just want this day over with.

I previously arranged to meet Ben a few blocks away from the synagogue so we could drive in together. It’s what David and I would’ve done since we would’ve still been living together. My stomach feels queasy again.

A black sedan pulls up. A driver hops out and opens the back door. Ben exits, dressed in a suit. He must be doing well in the hooker business if he can afford his own driver. I’m an attorney and I drive my own Toyota. It’s a nice Toyota, but we’re clearly in different tax brackets. If he even pays taxes. Asshole.

He gives me a small wave as he walks over to my car. This guy has to be the biggest idiot ever. He opens the door and slides into the passenger seat. He wears a suit well; I’ll give him that. I can’t decide if it looks better than the jeans and T-shirt he wore yesterday.

“Good morning, Miryam. You look beautiful.”

He leans over the console like he’s going to kiss me. I jerk my head back so hard the seatbelt cuts into my neck.

“What are you doing? Don’t do that!” Who does he think he is?

He pulls his body back a couple of inches. “I was going to kiss you on the cheek. We’re supposed to be engaged.”

“Well, we’re not engaged in this car. You don’t need to kiss anything.” The gall.

He sits all the way back in his seat and pulls the seatbelt across his body. “My bad. I misread that one. It won’t happen again.”

I push the button to start the engine. “It better not.” As if I would ever kiss this idiot.

I slide the car into drive and then remember I brought him something. “I almost forgot. I brought you a kippah. I figured you didn’t have one.” I hand him the small, round head covering and a couple of clips.

“Oh, thanks.” He pulls down the visor with a mirror while inspecting the kippah. He places it on the top of his head and struggles to open one of the clips.

I giggle, as much as I try not to. “It’s not a party hat. It doesn’t go on the top of your head.” I take it from him. “It sort of cups your head a little farther back.”

He still looks lost, so I unbuckle my seatbelt. I twist in my seat and lean over him a little. My boobs are at least covered in this dress, but they’re still in his face. I’m sure he’s staring at them. I run my hands over his thick hair to tame it some. He doesn’t use any product to make it look how it looks. It’s too soft to have anything in it. I almost forget why I’m even touching his hair in the first place. I pin the cap to his head and sink back in my seat.

Neither of us says anything on the short drive to the synagogue. Pulling into the parking lot, I find a space near the back. I grab my purse and my hat out of the backseat before stepping out. Ben slides his hand down to my lower back as we walk to the building. My first instinct is to punch him again, but he’s only playing a part. A part I asked him to play. I sincerely hope Jews are right about there being no eternal, fiery Hell because I bet paying someone to prevaricate in a sacred space will get you sent there.

He surprises me when he holds the door open. I have him pegged as the boob-groping, knuckle-dragging type. I’m happy to see he knows how to operate a door. It’s a skill many men haven’t mastered.

Some distant cousin whose name I don’t know is handing out prayer shawls and spare kippahs to the visitors. Ben takes the cloth, unfolds it, and drapes it over my shoulders. I freeze, expecting an alarm to go off somewhere. Cousin Whatever-His-Name-Is puffs out his chest and advances on me like a nightclub bouncer.

I slip the shawl off my shoulders and drape it over Ben’s. “David is such a jokester,” I whisper. “Honey, you know only the men wear the tallit.” I slip my arm around his and walk us to our seat.

I find a seat as far away from close family as I can. Sheba is picking up Bubbie and bringing her here. I set my purse next to me to save the spaces.

Leaning over to Ben, I whisper in his ear, “Just follow my lead on when to sit and stand.”

He nods.

My mother’s cousin’s fourth wife turns around and puts her index finger to her lips. This bitch has to be kidding. She’s the latest mistress he’s married. I’m sure she thought he had money from his considerable physician salary, but he’s paying alimony to three other women. He’s almost living out of his car. They’re only invited to this out of sheer politeness. And she has the unmitigated impudence to shush me.

I’m about to lose my cool when I feel Ben’s fingers lace through mine. I look at him, trying to figure out his end game. He smiles at me. In my peripheral vision, I see the harlot face forward in her seat again. Bubbie and Sheba appear on the other side of Ben. I slide down so they can scoot in. I didn’t think this through or I would’ve sat on the outside so I could be a buffer between Bubbie and Ben/David. At least there’s no talking during the service.

We file out after the service, Bubbie’s arm through mine. She stops walking as soon as we’re outside.

“I want David to escort me to the Kiddush.”

“Bubbie, I can take you. We’re already walking that way.” I nudge her, trying to get her moving again.

“You walk too slow. I want David to take me.”

Ben looks at me with wide eyes. He shakes his head and mouths something I can’t understand.

I gently pull on Bubbie’s arm again. “Don’t be silly. We can all walk together.”

She pulls her arm out of mine and gropes around near Ben. “Don’t be a putz, Miryam. I said I want David to take me to the Kiddush and I want David to take me to the Kiddush.” She makes contact with him and loops her arm through his.

Shit. “Okay, Bubbie. David can walk you to the light meal following the service that is held in the banquet hall around the back.” I point in that direction for Ben’s benefit.

He starts walking, almost having to jog to keep up with my grandmother, who is suddenly trying to set new speed records.

Sheba throws her arm around my shoulder. “When are you going to tell her?”

I lean my head against hers while we watch the mismatched pair trot around the corner. “When the time is right. She’s blind now. The doctor is worried about her blood pressure. She seems so much weaker than she was even a year ago. I don’t want to do anything to upset her.”

Sheba starts walking with me. “Well, she just ran off with your twenty-something hot date. I don’t think she’s as frail as you think she is.”

We walk into the hall and find the other half of our group sitting in the back corner. Ben looks pale and is pulling at his shirt collar.

“What’s your sister’s name again?” I hear my grandmother ask when we get closer.

I run the last few steps. “Bubbie, you know David’s an only child.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says.

“Where were you?” Ben mouths through a tight jaw.

I sit down and put my hat on top of my purse.

Ben stands up. “Sweetie, there’s something I wanted to show you over there.” He jerks his head to the side.

“What is it? I want to see,” Bubbie says.

I sigh at both of them. “Stop making blind jokes, Bubbie. It’s in poor taste.”

Ben puts his arm around my waist and walks me to a corner away from most of the guests. “Why didn’t you give me any info on your ex? She asked me so many questions! And when is the meal being served? That was the longest thing I’ve ever sat through. I’m starving now.”

Oy vey, he’s whiny. “You don’t need to know details about Dav—him. Just stop talking to people. And it’s more of some light appetizers after another prayer service than it is a meal.”

He blinks and tilts his head. “Two never ending prayer services and almost no food? Are you kidding? What time is this going to end? I have somewhere I need to be.”

If anything’s a joke here, it’s him. “I’m…” I stop and lower my voice to a whisper. “I’m paying you ten thousand dollars to sit here and be quiet. I’m sorry if it’s taking time out of your busy orgy schedule.”

His face turns red. He leans closer to me so that our noses are almost touching. “Don’t pretend you know me. I know I signed up for this. I didn’t realize it was going to be an all-day thing.”

I hit a nerve with something. He looks furious. The last thing I need is him storming out on me, which would raise more questions.

I pat his arm. “This part will be over in an hour. Then you’re free until the evening. We can’t party until sundown. I can at least promise a big meal and an open bar with kosher alcohol tonight.” I swallow a little bit of pride. It tastes bitter. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

His face slowly returns to its normal color. “You’re welcome.”

***

We meet a couple of blocks from the hotel so we can drive together. I feel like a teenager trying to sneak back into the house. Ben looks like he’s wearing the same suit from earlier. Men have it so easy. I’ve changed into after-five attire. I gave myself a more dramatic eye and put on higher heels, as well. This seems like a last hurrah. I doubt I’ll feel like going out for a while, so I might as well make the best of this with my paid date.

I pull the car into the covered valet area. Ben hasn’t said a word to me, nor I to him. I can’t tell if he’s still pissed off at me, or if he has something else going on. He’s got dark circles under his eyes that I don’t remember from before. Not that I was looking at him that hard the first time we met. I’m not sure why I even care. It’s not like I’m going to see him again after tonight.

The valet opens the door for me. I get out, taking my clutch. Ben is standing on the curb when I walk around the car. His eyes get huge and his jaw goes slack. I look down my body to see if my dress has tucked itself into my panties, or something equally embarrassing.

“You look… It was dark in the car. I couldn’t see. But you… I don’t know what to say. You look really… good.”

Miami is always warm, but tonight feels warmer than most. Rendering someone speechless leaves me speechless. He looks… enchanted. The light wind blows a strand of hair. I tuck it back behind my ear. I’m not sure how long we’ve been standing here staring at each other. It feels like an hour and a second at the same time. My grandmother taught me to always accept a compliment and she would be horrified right now that I haven’t responded.

“Thank you.” That strand of hair hasn’t moved, but I tuck it again just to give my hands something to do.

“Shall we?” He holds out his hand.

I nod and lace my fingers with his. My hand feels like a doll’s hand in his. They’re giant. I try not to think of the implications because it doesn’t matter. We’re having dinner and I’m never seeing him again.

We find the ballroom holding the Finkelstein bar mitzvah celebration. The dance floor is already full and some man I’ve never seen before is swinging his suit jacket above his head. Looks like the party started early.

Sheba waves at me from the other side of the room. I pull Ben toward that table.

“David and Miri are here,” she tells my grandmother.

I hug Bubbie around her neck and take the seat next to her. Ben hugs Bubbie, too, before sitting on the other side of me. I can’t recall a time when David hugged Bubbie, but it seems like the thing a soon-to-be member of the family would do.

Aunt Abagail joins the table with two glasses of wine. She sets one in front of Bubbie and then she sits next to Ben. “Miryam, you look stunning. Doesn’t she look stunning, David?”

“She does.” He smiles at me.

“David, why doesn’t your fiancé have a glass of wine? We have two open bars in here.” She points at both in the corners. “You need to get her a glass right now.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t really want one yet. Thank you, though.”

“Yes, you do. David, go get a glass of wine.”

Ben shrugs and gets up.

Aunt Abagail leans over as soon as his seat is empty. “Miri, he is h-o-t,” she whispers. “Definitely an upgrade. I would hold onto this one. Good job!”

“Shh!” I hiss at her.

The last thing I need is for Bubbie to hear her dumb comments. I take offense to pretty much every word out of her mouth. Ben is nice, but he’s no David. I’m extra offended she’s implying David isn’t here because I didn’t hold onto him. He would be here if he hadn’t made disgusting man-pig choices. There’s no point in arguing with her, though. She’s just as stubborn as everyone else in the family.

Ben returns with two glasses of wine. He puts both in front of me.

“I didn’t know if you like white or red, so I got both,” he whispers.

He smells good. Really good. His breath is warm against my ear. I swallow. “I like red. Thank you.”

My other two aunts stop by the table to chat. I don’t know why I thought hiring Ben was a good idea. They both point at him, wink at me, and give me a thumbs up. So subtle. Sheba laughs like she can read my mind.

Aunt Deenah squeezes my shoulder when she walks past on her way to the next table. “So much better, dear,” she whispers.

These women are all horny as hell. Yes, Ben is good-looking, if you like the classically handsome, chiseled jaw, super buff type with giant hands and long fingers. I’m not someone who falls for a pretty face, though. I need more than that. What’s he doing with his life? He sleeps with women for money. He’s either got a sex addiction or he only cares about money. I could never fall for someone like that. David turned out to not be perfect, but at least he was making something of himself.

Sheba taps me on the shoulder while I’m lost in thought. “Join me in the ladies’ room?”

I stand up, taking my clutch with me.

Sheba puts her arm around my shoulder as we walk. “How you doin’ today?”

“This was a dumb idea.”

She nods. “The dumbest. But Ben seems nice. At least there’s that.”

I laugh. “I’m beginning to think people like him better than me.”

She laughs, too. “No offense, honey, but I like the look of his face more than yours. And have you felt his arms? They’re solid. You should feel them.”

She pushes open the door to the bathroom and goes in the first stall.

I look in the mirror. I don’t like the poor sap looking back at me. “I want my old life back, Sheba. Why don’t we have time machines already? All the classic novels promised us time machines by now.”

I hear the toilet flush and she opens the door. “No, you just think you want your old life back. We’re getting you a better life. You’ve got appointments to see some apartments on Monday. You have your attorney Bat Signal activated and you’ll find a new firm soon. It’ll come together.” She pulls out her lipstick and applies a new coat. “In the meantime, you could bump uglies with that hot mamba jamba sitting in the ballroom. That will definitely fix some of your problems.”

I scowl at her while she washes her hands. “Could everyone please stop objectifying him? He’s a person.” A person with soft hair and an ass chiseled from stone. Not that I’ve noticed.

She holds the door open for me. “Mark my words, Miri. You’ll be on your deathbed, surrounded by your nineteen grandchildren, and your only regret will be not sitting on that face.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Bubbie has moved into my seat and is chatting up Ben. He’s looking over her head and fidgeting with the napkin folded into the shape of a swan. He looks so nervous.

I cut straight across the dance floor to get to them faster. My heart is jackhammering inside my chest when I reach them. Ben uses the swan to dab at the sweat on his brow.

Bubbie reaches over and finds my hand. “Miryam, I was just telling David some more stories of you as a child so he knows what to look out for when you have kids.”

I might need a napkin swan for my sweat here in a second. “Oh, perfect.” That comes out so sing-song-y. She can’t see my smile, but it’s the fakest one ever.

“And David was telling me some of the details you’ve added to the wedding.”

“Even better!” I shoot a glare at Ben and he shrugs.

“You didn’t tell me you were riding in on a horse.”

I raise my eyebrows at Ben. He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Well… we’re still exploring options.” I don’t know what to say.

Bubbie squeezes my hand. “And I’m really surprised you want all those peacocks walking around your reception. You hate birds so much.”

I mouth peacocks at Ben. He tosses his hands up in the air.

“I…” I need to tell her I’m a big fat liar and a disappointment to everyone.

Ben stands up and puts his arm around me. “Miryam is the sweetest and most generous person. She knows how much I love birds, so she’s letting me have this. Thank you, sweetie.” He kisses me on the top of my head.

I’m not sure if I hate myself or Ben more in this exact moment. It’s a real tossup.

Bubbie smiles. “Oh, to be young and in love again. You two need to stop wasting time with this old lady. You need to be on the dance floor.”

I know a good excuse for an exit when I see one. “Yes, let’s go dance… dear.”

Keeping his arm around me, Ben walks us the few steps to the dance floor. It’s a slow song. He takes my right hand and puts his left on my waist, pulling me closer. I wonder if they teach dance in hooker school.

“So, did your grandmother used to work for like a CIA prison, or something? She asks a lot of questions really fast. It’s confusing.”

I nod. “She has her moments.”

“I just started spitting out answers like that word association game. I have no idea what I told her. Most of it didn’t even make sense.”

I nod again. “This will be fun to clean up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s my fault for getting us into this.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Ben’s actually a really good dancer. I relax and let him float me around the floor. My left hand rests on his right arm. Now that Sheba’s put it into my head, I have to admit he does have solid arms. So solid.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named Miryam,” he says. “What does it mean?”

I keep my face straight and my voice even. “Obstinacy.”

He keeps his face straight as well. “Really? That doesn’t seem like you at all.”

He’s an asshole. “Is that sarcasm? It’s not a good look for you.”

He smiles at me and I laugh despite myself. He’s no comparison to David, but my mind can’t help going there. David is brilliant and a successful attorney. This jock is a male prostitute by choice. He can dance, though. David never took me dancing that I can remember.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” I ask. He makes this look effortless.

“In high school,” he answers. “My football coach made us all take lessons to keep us light on our feet.”

I picture Ben in tights, which is something I’ll come back to later. When I’m alone. “Did you play in college?”

He turns us so we don’t get whacked by two people flailing to my left. “I didn’t go to college.”

Figures.

“I went to culinary school. Cooking is my passion, but it’s not as much fun when it becomes a job. I burned out fast.”

He was a chef? Not what I expected. He dances and cooks. He’s damn near a Renaissance man.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” He brushes the hair off my left shoulder, letting his fingertips linger on the exposed skin of my wide neckline.

My mouth goes dry. “I… What was the question again?”

He presses his face closer so I can feel his breath on my ear. “Do you have any hobbies?”

I close my eyes so I can focus. “I sometimes play canasta with my grandmother.”

He throws his head back and laughs louder than I’ve heard him yet. “Your hobby is playing cards with a blind woman?”

I wish I could laugh like that. “She still wins most of the time.”

He dips me low like in an old black and white movie. I loved watching those with Bubbie when I was little. His nose runs the length of my neck up to my ear. “You’re full of surprises, Miryam.”

Fuck if his voice doesn’t sound like pure sex. Sheet twisting, headboard grabbing sex. My brain is at war with my body on what they want.

“I—I think I need to go home.” My brain wins.

He looks confused. “Oh. It’s still early.”

I take my hand off his arm of steel and take a step back. “I have a long day tomorrow, so I should hit the sack early.”

He puts his hands in his pockets. “I understand. Then we should say our good-byes to everyone.”

I walk back to our table and find it empty. I see Sheba and Bubbie on the other side of the room talking to Aunt Abagail. I pick up my clutch. “No one will miss us. Sheba will make sure Bubbie gets home safe.”

Being near Ben is confounding and I’m ready for it to be over. I miss my normal, safe life.

The valet pulls up my car. Ben follows me to the driver’s side. “My car is waiting just around the corner here, so you don’t have to drive me.”

“Oh. I guess this is it then.” My lips are so dry.

“I guess so.”

He bends down slowly until his face is level with mine. I swear I can hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears. He reaches up and cradles my chin with his hand. I close my eyes. I feel the pad of his thumb sweep under my right eye. The warmth coming off his skin is gone an instant later. I open my eyes and see his thumb extended in front of him.

“You had an eyelash. You should blow it and make a wish.”

I blow the lash off his thumb and make a wish. He turns his hand to the side and reaches forward for a handshake.

“Thank you for a lovely day, Miryam.”

I shake his hand and tell myself I’m being an idiot for the things I’m feeling. I barely know him. And I’m paying him to be nice to me. I’m such a dupe. I watch him walk around the corner until I can’t see him anymore.

I can’t believe that asshole didn’t kiss me.

Even though I didn’t want him to.

I think.