We use china? Who was we? She was only here to do Yochi a favor, she wasn’t part of the tour staff

“Am I supposed to be intimidated?” Pessie asked as she inspected her reflection in the mirror near the front door. “This is Mrs. Popular Food Blogger.”

Yochi straightened his tzitzis and shrugged. “Up to you, really.”

Pessie chuckled. “I hate perfect people, so I think I’ll opt out.”

“She’s calling me. She’s probably outside.” He answered his phone and nodded to Pessie. “Okay, thanks. She’s coming,” he said into the phone.

Pessie picked up her bag. “All right, then. I hope I know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to do much. Just make sure they can prepare the order for tomorrow. We want to pick it up before Yom Kippur. And Pessie…”

She glanced at him.

“Thanks, Pes. For this, for Berkowitz. For… everything.”

His face appeared nonchalant. But his eyes projected a sincerity that made her chest swell.

Pessie nodded and left.

The first thing that caught Pessie’s eye when she entered Mrs. Popular Food Blogger’s car was her ring.

It wasn’t a ring. It was a monster. An eternity band of gleaming, glaring, humongous white stones, and with the woman’s fingers clasped around the steering wheel, the diamonds captured the sun’s rays, reflecting a sparkle that was almost blinding.

The finger upon which the ring rested — long and beautifully manicured — casually waved.

“Hey. Thanks for coming with me. What’s your name?”

“Pessie.”

“Nice! I’m Deena. This is so fun!”

So fun? What exactly was fun about shopping for paper goods with a total stranger, and what was this, eighth grade?