Dating Kosher by Michaela Greene Read Free Book Online

invite; meeting your date’s entire family all in one go is a big commitment. It was not going to be easy.

 
    Chapter 8
    I had my work cut out for me, that was for sure. After I scribbled down the names from my phone in order of preference, I got a bottle of water out of the fridge (to stave off dry croaky throat) and sat down on my sofa. Pad and paper in hand, I picked up the phone to begin my mission.
    The first six numbers I called ended with voicemail. I left vague, but hopefully intriguing messages at all of them, hoping for quick turnaround times. I wasn’t working with a lot of time. Finally, number seven: Matt Morris, answered.
    “Hey, Mattie, how’ve you been?” I asked, my voice smoother than silk.
    “Shoshanna?” he was definitely caught off guard.
    “Yes, I was thinking about you the other day…”
    “Why? Do you need a new necklace? Pair of earrings?” his words were like sharp little icicles jabbing at me.
    I was silent for a moment until I realized it was time for some damage control. “No, silly, I was just thinking about all the good times we had. Remember when we went to Niagara Falls?” I was hoping to take him back to the time when we had made out at the falls; maybe evoking some nostalgic feelings in him would help. Maybe even give him a hard on when he thought of the circular bed in the honeymoon suite where I showed him I was no virginal bride…
    “You’re a piece of work, Shoshanna,” he snorted, his voice hard. “What do you want?”
    What was with the attitude? We had parted amicably, or so I had thought. He had gone away to school and it had just fizzled out. Okay, well I’d had a bit of a temper tantrum when he had chosen law school over me, but I couldn’t see how he would hold that against me—that I wanted him to be with me so badly. And anyway, it had been two years: plenty of cool-off time.
    “No,” I said, trying to salvage the conversation. “I don’t want anything. I just wanted to see you.”
    “I’m engaged. And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t want to see you. You’re like a leech, sucking blood from any poor sap you can get your claws into.”
    Now that was harsh. And completely uncalled for, so those proverbial claws he’d just mention came out. “You’re a loser, Matt. I don’t even believe you’re engaged, who would have you?” It was a stretch, knowing that a good-looking lawyer from a wealthy family probably had lots of offers of the romantic kind, but I had to say something.
    “Fuck you, Shoshanna,” he said before he ended the call.
    I stared at my phone for a few moments, like it was to blame. “What an asshole,” I said out loud. Apparently Armani thought it was an invitation and came running down the back of the sofa to shove his butt into my face. Picking him up, I deposited him into my lap, stroking his soft fur. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that clumps of cat hair became electrostatically charged, sticking to my hands; what I needed was the comfort of someone who loved me. Armani always seemed to know when he was needed.
    Unwilling to risk another call like that, I figured I’d just wait and see who called me back from the messages I had already left.
    “Am I really that bad?” I asked Armani, contemplating what Matt had said. “Do I come across as that shallow?”
    Armani didn’t answer.
    Am I that shallow? I asked myself silently, afraid to say the words out loud.
    * * *
    Six messages was not a very wide net, but I did catch one fish. Phil Silver, computer genius, self-made millionaire by the time he was twenty-four. I had snapped him up in the beginning, seeing his potential. He had moved down to Silicon Valley, causing our breakup, but I’d heard through the grapevine he’d returned home after setting up some protégé at the helm of his West Coast division.
    “Shosh! It was so great to hear from you,” he said, as soon as I answered an hour or so later. I’m no rocket scientist but I could tell this guy was happy to hear