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CHAPTER ONE
After ten years of swearing I’d never return, I’d come back. Back to Brooklyn, and back to my old synagogue where I’d spent more time playing than praying and planning my escape. A quick glance around revealed nothing more than empty pews and a hushed silence, but I could still recall every whisper and laugh. A lifetime couldn’t chase away the sting of memories.
“Gideon? Gideon Marks, is that you?”
I blinked back to awareness. “Cantor Weiss.” I flashed my trademark cocky-bastard grin. “Yes, it’s me. In the flesh.”
I glanced down at my skintight black jeans and tight grey sweater and thought how my flesh hadn’t been touched in way too long and that situation needed to be rectified sooner rather than later. Mentally I slapped myself for thinking about sex in a house of worship.
“Hmm. I thought I heard you’d moved back from Florida. The caterer sent you?” Cantor Weiss’s dubious voice coupled with the doubt in his eyes set my already touchy nerves on high alert and I bristled, ready to start a fight, then bit my tongue.
There was no need to tell him I was the caterer, that Garden of Eat-In was my company. Neither he, nor anyone else here ever expected me to make anything of myself. I didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Everything I had I earned with my blood and tears.
“Yes. And we’re happy you’ve asked us to be a part of the Chanukah celebration.” My smile didn’t lighten his dour mood but then as I recalled nothing ever did. Cantor Sourpuss, as we called him years ago, hadn’t changed one bit.
“The caterer we’d originally hired closed up shop without giving us any notice.” He gave me a wintery smile. “We had little choice in the matter.”
So much for trying to be nice. The three guys I brought with me to help in the kitchen shifted restlessly at my side. “If you’ll show us to the kitchen, we can get started for on tonight’s dinner.”
I’d only recently bought the business from Ed Weinstein who couldn’t wait to sell and move to Arizona. Not only was I taking on the catering jobs, but I had expanded to providing meals for the busy families who wanted that home-cooked meal at night but didn’t have the time to prepare. I’d expected the sales from the prepared food to be good, but they were selling out almost every night - especially Friday nights.
This contract I wanted so badly with Temple Sinai, where I’d grown up yet never felt I belonged, was more than a simple catering job. I’d agreed to make the Friday night dinner for Rabbi Fine and his congregants to showcase the business and let them see what they were getting before the grand Chanukah dinner next month. They wanted to test me because they thought I’d fail. The word failure didn’t exist in my vocabulary. Not any more.
I harbored many limitations, but cooking wasn’t one of them. I possessed a faultless palate and could make a meal that would blow their socks off. Cooking had been the only thing that kept me going all the years I’d been away.
“Very well. I’m understandably busy but I’ll bring you back to our catering manager. She’ll brief you and give you the contracts to sign.”
“That’s fine.” I followed him through the swinging doors located at the back of the synagogue. “Can I send my guys to the kitchen so they can get started though?”
The Cantor had stopped before a closed door marked Catering. “Yes,” he said and pointed down the hall. “The kitchen is right around the corner.”
I titled my head and the three men hurried down the hallway and disappeared from sight.
At the Cantor’s knock, a cheerful voice called us inside. The woman who greeted us had curly black hair and bright red lips, reminding me of the Betty Boop cartoon. Her brown eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Cantor Weiss. My birthday isn’t until next week, but thank you for my present.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Cantor Sourpuss of course didn’t crack a smile.
“Evelyn, this is Gideon Marks. He’s with the catering company and is making the Shabbos dinner tonight, so I brought him to you to sign the contracts.”
Her eyes widened. “Mr. Marks, you’re a lifesaver for filling in on such short notice for us. Handsome and can cook too?” She jumped up and came from around the desk to hook her arm through mine. “Tell me, Gideon, I can call you Gideon, right? Mr. Marks is so stuffy.” She paused, presumably to fill up on air before the next onslaught.
It seemed I’d wandered onto the set of the Jewish Golden Girls. I nodded, unable to stop the force of Hurricane Evelyn, and decided to say as little as possible and hold on for the ride.
“Are you married? I don’t see a ring. Any steady girlfriend?”
Uh oh. I knew where this was heading. “No, no steady girlfriend. No girlfriend at all.”
Evelyn’s face lit up like a menorah on the last night of Chanukah. “A good looking boy like you? How could that be? Now, my granddaughter is studying for her CPA but she’ll be here later tonight. I hope you’ll stop by and say hi to her. She loves your type.”
I wanted to say, “whoWho—gay men?” but didn’t have the heart.
“What type am I?” I couldn’t help being curious.
“Oh the dangerous type—men with longer hair and that scruffy look, even though I personally think you’d look even more handsome if you shaved.” She ran a critical eye over me and I couldn’t help but grin back at her. She was cute and this was the most fun I’d had in weeks with my clothes on.
“What do I know, though? I’m only her grandmother.” She sniffed and I smothered a laugh.
“Evelyn, you’re a riot, but as much as I enjoy talking to you, I have to get to the kitchen and start cooking.”
Evelyn blinked. “Oh right, yes. Let me find the contracts for you to look over.” She faced her desk and began flipping through the papers. My chest tightened. Time to get out of here, fast.
“Um, why don’t you bring them to me later? I’ll be in the kitchen all afternoon.”
“I know they’re somewhere….ahAh!” Her voice rang out in triumph. “Here. Now, you can see it’s standard boilerplate, but we do leave some things open-ended, such as how much you charge for the cost per meal and the adjustment to the price per plate depending on the final number of people.”
My mouth dried and my heart pounded. I could do this. “Yes, I see.” I took the paper from her hand and stared at it. “I’ll take it with me and give it back later, okay?”
She gave me a strange look. “Don’t you want to read it and fill it out before you start? Rabbi Fine will be in later and he’ll want to make sure it’s signed before sundown.”
Hopefully I’d be ensconced in the kitchen and would escape seeing the Rabbi. Though he’d rarely spoken directly to me, I’d always had the sense the brilliant, contemplative Rabbi Fine looked down on me. And his son Jonah, a classmate of mine in high school, had never missed an opportunity to wave his intellectual superiority in my face. Last I’d heard Jonah was in law school in Boston, so I was lucky in that respect and didn’t have to think about him tonight.
“Hey, if I can’t trust a synagogue who can I trust?” I laughed but Evelyn’s puzzled look made me it uncomfortable for me to continue standing in her office. “I’m sure its fine. I gotta go.” I folded the paper and almost sprinted down the hall in an effort to get away.
The atmosphere in the kitchen hummed with electricity. I breathed a sigh of relief to see the newest professional-grade appliances had been installed; as my biggest fear in taking this job was that I’d have to work on antiquated equipment. Well, my second biggest fear, but since Jonah was up in Boston, I didn’t have to worry about seeing him.
I nodded to some of the workers who had been assigned to help us and watched with pleasure as my guys deftly handled the prep work like the professionals they were. The menu for the dinner included chicken soup with matzo balls, beef bourguignon, Cornish hens with julienned vegetables and roasted potatoes. The guys I brought with me were my best staff; they helped run my kitchen seamlessly and with precision.
I’d finished prepping the Cornish hens and had started making begun making the matzo balls when I noticed Evelyn watching me from the doorway.
“You don’t use a recipe?”
I allowed myself a small smile. “Uh, no.” I washed my hands, dried them on a paper towel and tapped my head. “Everything’s up here.”
“No recipes at all?” Her expression changed from mere admiration to shock when I shook my head in the negative. “Maybe you could you do me a favor, then?”
“Sure.” I filled the pot with water and set it on the stove to boil for the soup. “Whatever you want.” Except go on a date with your granddaughter.
“Could you give me your recipe for the beef bourguignon?” She eyed the pot bubbling on the stove. “It smells and looks amazing and I know my family would love it.”
“Ahh.” I frantically looked around but none of my staff was within earshot. “I can’t do it right now.”
“Oh surely you can take a minute out. You have to wait for the matzo balls to chill in the refrigerator and the water to boil for soup anyway.” She flourished a pad in one hand and a pen in the other. “See? I even came prepared.”
Much as I hated disappointing her, there was no helping it. She’d only end up thinking I was an obnoxious son of a bitch like everyone else already did anyway and while I liked Evelyn, I had to protect myself at anyll costs to survive. Ito survive. So . So I did what I did best—lash out and push people away.
“I said I can’t. You see I’m busy, don’t you?” I began to hack at the chicken pieces for the soup. “Jesus, I’ve never had people follow me into the kitchen to hound me for recipes or date their family members.”
“I see all the years away haven’t changed your sparkling personality, Gideon.”
The deceptively soft, deep voice that haunted my nights and was the subject of hours of dirty dreams rocked me to the core.hadn’t changed. MyThe knife dropped, clatterdropping to the countered and I buried my shaking hands deep in the pieces of raw chicken.
“Jonah.”
My voice shook and heat then cold washed through me. My reaction to Jonah Fine hadn’t changed y hand on the doorin the ten years since we’d last seen each other. He’d had an uncanny ability to set me on edge, trembling with desire, yet still wanting to punch him in the face.
And ten years later, I still wanted to both kiss and hit him.
Jonah Fine suspect he was the reason for my nervousness. He was, but I didn’t have to make it so Goddamn easy for him.
“Are you going to continue to squeeze that chicken to bits or are you going to say hello to me?”
Our eyes met and I wasn’t certain if I was more shocked or turned on by the warmth and humor in their deep blue depths. Jonah had always been good-looking, if you liked the tall, dark and rugged type. Which I did. Of course I never could let him know and have him hold it over me. I wasn’t going to be the stupid gay kid who came onto him and gave him more ammunition against me.
“Hello Jonah. It’s been a long time. I wasn’t aware you were back in New York.”
Why was he grinning at me? The Jonah Fine I knew didn’t laugh, he lectured. He never smiled, he scowled. Did I have food on my face? I huffed out an impatient breath and withdrew my hands from the mess I’d made of the chicken in all my upset with Evelyn.
Shit. Evelyn. I She was the one I most needed to talk to her and set things right between us. After I washed my hands, I ignored Jonah’s overwhelming presence and turned my back on him to face Evelyn and apologize.
I ran my hand through my hair and stuttered. “I—I’m sorry. I was rude and you didn’t deserve to be spoken to that way.”
Luckily, Evelyn was not only a kind and generous person, she was an accepting one as well. “That’s okay, honey.” Those red lips curved up in a sly grin. “You can make it up to me and stop by Stephanie’s table tonight and introduce yourself. Maybe you’ll even end up going out for a drink together, who knows?”
Inwardly I sighed. I felt so bad about snapping at her I’d decided to suck it up and agree to the set-upccept, when Jonah cut me off.
“I’m sorry Evelyn, but Gideon’s taken for tonight.”
I spun around and faced Jonah, ready to argue, when once again his kissable lips, broad shoulders and unwavering blue stare unsettled me to the point where my mouth dried and I found it hard to speak.
Damn. “What are you talking about?” I managed to grunt with irritation. I hated that every time Jonah looked at me, my stomach dropped a foot. It began to feel like high school all over again and I had no desire to relive those awful, painful days.
“You and I are going out after Shabbos dinner.”
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