a lot to learn?
“My mother’s certainly lively.” Leah paused in chopping a bunch of cucumbers to gesture with her knife at Naomi. “Are you here recruiting for the seminar series?”
“No . . .” Wow. Definitely should have come up with an alibi beforehand. But this was Ethan’s sister. Maybe she could help. “I’m actually sort of casing the joint for single women to set up with your brother.”
Leah put down her knife. “You’re still playing matchmaker for Ethan?”
Only the sound of several oven timers going off at once saved them from the primed ears of their fellow cooks.
Still? Naomi slid closer to Leah, pretending to observe her knife skills. “You heard about my role as your brother’s personal matchmaker?”
Leah wiped her hands on her apron. “Yeah, he, um, might have mentioned asking for your help.”
“Oh,” Naomi said. “Well, yes, I’m still helping, but you can’t tell anyone.” The rumors around the rabbi dating were already overwhelming their programming, and poor Ethan had looked ready to faint over his pack of admirers loitering at the JCC.
Leah seemed to pick up on the need for discretion and casually resumed her prep. “Are you sure this is what Ethan wants?”
“Of course.” This was the last mission Naomi would ever undertake alone. “He asked me to. As a favor. I guess the seminar series or the singles mixers inspired him to get back into the dating game.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly where he found inspiration,” Leah said with a disconcerting glower.
Siblings were always tricky. That unique combination of protective and perceptive. Naomi forced herself to remain relaxed. The last thing she wanted to do was appear covetous.
“So, do you know any of these women?” She peeked over her shoulder. “I’m trying to get a sense for their personalities, but it’s difficult to distinguish anything over the noise in here.”
Naomi let her gaze continue traveling across the room. There were over twenty women crowded around the counter space, but probably only eight or so, Naomi and Leah included, that fell into the appropriate age range for Ethan.
Leah slowly let her chin roll over her shoulder, surveying the space with more subtlety than Naomi had managed. “Tara Ginsburg over there with the kugel is a current admirer. She went to high school with us. I think she’s an interior decorator now? Always wears lipstick to any bris or bar mitzvah so she can kiss Ethan’s cheek and mark her territory.”
“Seriously?” Naomi couldn’t identify with that kind of possessive behavior. She usually selected romantic partners who she knew she wouldn’t mind sharing. For years, both her profession and her proclivities had made monogamy less than ideal.
“Oh yeah. Women loved my brother when he was a Hollywood brat, running around on yachts with celebrity kids. They loved him more when he settled down and became a physics teacher. He really leaned into the whole elbow-patches-on-tweed-blazers thing. But now that he’s the rabbi, he’s a JAP wet dream. He’s practically got husband material written across his forehead.”
Naomi tracked Tara Ginsburg for a few minutes. Cute, but also a bit aggressively loud.
“She doesn’t strike me as Ethan’s type.”
Leah seasoned some chickpeas before tossing them in a food processor.
“And what do you think his type is?”
Naomi had heard Ethan’s perspective, but she knew from experience people often didn’t actually know how to articulate what they wanted. “The kind of person who listens when he talks, even though his face is distracting.”
Leah switched on the blender and then leaned across Naomi’s mixing bowl to steal an olive off a serving tray. “Know anyone like that?”
Naomi started on a new batch of dough, pretending to hunt for flour to buy herself time. Leah didn’t know her well enough to notice, but Naomi’s plan to add distance between herself and Ethan through this matchmaking exercise wasn’t working. The more she tried to think about the kind of person who might deserve him, the more she realized she was going to have to let go of wanting him for herself. And she had a really hard time letting go of things she wanted.
Pausing the blender, Leah tested her hummus mixture before adding more red pepper flakes and a splash of olive oil. “You know, I might actually have someone. But you wouldn’t find her here.”
Finding compatible candidates was her job, Naomi reminded herself, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Oh yeah?”
“Her name’s Amelia Greene. She was Ethan’s camp girlfriend. Blond, nice teeth, perfect tan. She recently moved to Santa Monica from Atlanta. I heard she’s