The Matzo Ball Heiress by Laurie Gwen Shapiro Read Free Book Online

these families are, you’re not a Jew.
    “Rival matzo companies,” I explain to her. “Here’s the plan,” I say in Steve’s direction. “I’ll tour you through the factory and then we can come back here and I can answer anything else.”
    “Terrific,” Steve says.
    “I’m going to have to mic you,” Tonia pipes up. “The way it works is—”
    “Actually I’m in the business myself,” I interrupt, a shameless attention-seeking ploy for Steve’s benefit. “I’ll save you the hassle.”
    Tonia shrugs.
    “You’re in the business?” Steve asks. “Our business?”
    “I don’t usually work here except to help out with the seasonal interviews. My cousin runs things but sometimes he gets overloaded. The rest of the time, I’m a documentary filmmaker.”
    Steve seeks out the ballpoint pen behind his ear. “Anything I’ve heard of?”
    “I do cable specials mostly.” I slide the wireless mic under my red sweater, facing Steve just enough to give him a little peek at the top of my black lace bra. “For the past few years, I’ve codirected and coproduced with my business partner, Vondra Adams. The biggest doc we did was an insider’s look at the women’s prison at Riker’s Island—we followed the story of four women who were incarcerated there.”
    Jared sets his camera down. “I saw that on HBO. I thought it was going to be bleak viewing, but you really captured the humor in their lives.”
    “Thank you,” I say. “They need to laugh to survive.”
    “Wasn’t that narrated by Susan Sarandon?” Steve says.
    “Isn’t everything?” Jared calls out.
    “It could have been Glenn Close,” Tonia says with a smile back to Steve.
    Dorky documentary humor. I smile too. “No, it was Susan who did it.” As soon as I say that, I realize how pretentious it sounds.
    “And how is Susan?” Jared teases. “Is Susan difficult?”
    Despite my extreme wariness of beards, Jared’s looks are growing on me. Those big brown eyes are teddy-bearish, and they crinkle in nice places when he smiles. But I’d like to see his lips without any facial hair above them to complete the picture. Lips are a big turn-on for me. I like them dark and puckering like a 1960s London rock star. My answer lags a bit as I mentally shave his beard. “ Susan was very nice, actually. In and out of the studio with a big warm smile. Very professional.”
    “You won an Emmy for that, didn’t you?” Jared says. “A friend of mine was up against you.”
    “Yes, two,” I say a bit too quickly. “But not alone,” I quickly add to tone that big brag down. “Of course I shared them with my business partner.”
    “What categories?”
    I pretend to think. (Ha, like I don’t remember.) “The News and Documentary awards, for, um, Best Investigative Special and for Best Directing.”
    “Impressive,” Jared says.
    Tonia, inches away, slips a wireless through Steve’s blue oxford shirt.
    “Well, the most coveted awards are televised while the documentary awards are presented at a special ceremony. You know when they say, ‘Earlier in the evening, Regis Philbin presented the following awards…’ One of those was ours.”
    Mic in place, Steve talks for his audio check. “Check, two, two, check.” Then he faces me again. “Don’t diminish your achievements. Barbara Walters, watch out. Although you’re a hell of a lot cuter than Barbara Walters.”
    “Can you say something?” Tonia asks me rigidly. Is she miffed at the attention Steve and Jared are giving me? “Just keep talking until I say stop.”
    “Two. Two. Two. My name is Heather Greenblotz.”
    Tonia rolls her hand to indicate: Keep going.
    I nod and say, “For the past year I’ve called the same restaurant for lunch delivery at least three times a week. I want a Greek salad with no salad dressing. The same person answers every time and says, like she’s shocked, ‘No salad dressing?!’”
    Jared chortles a bit. When Tonia gives me the okay, I say to Steve,