“Wow,” she said, generically and unimpressively, after a pause that was probably way too long. Chayala, you’re botching this

Dassi doesn’t end things with Ari. Chayala talks to her father and feels a responsibility to help him.

Chayala wound the straw cover around her index finger and forced herself to stay in the moment. It was harder than usual. She had seasonal sales reports on the new Huis Tabletop line on her desktop that she was itching to look at (toile de jouy print was making a strong comeback). If not for this date, she’d probably have been in the office until nine or ten. Then there was the nagging worry about her father’s situation hanging over her, causing her to lose her train of thought more often than she would have liked. She’d set up a meeting for the end of the week with the lawyer she’d used when she started Huis, to see if he had any ideas for how she could help without impeding the case, and she was dying to sit down and prepare for it. Focus, Chayala. The least you could offer this guy is your full attention.

He was looking at her expectantly. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “What was that?”

He was a nice enough guy, and he gave her a nice-enough guy smile. “That’s ok. I was asking if you went to Israel after high school.”

Chayala winced internally, but her pleasant expression remained fixed. “Yes, I went to Bnos Rivka.” A decade ago, she thought ruefully. “It was really a great experience. Did we overlap? What years were you there?”

“I went for two years, starting in 2010, then came back and learned in Lakewood for a little while after that. I don’t feel like I’ve been out of it for more than a few months, but in real life it’s been about five years.” He took a sip of his soda and gave her an easy opportunity to keep the conversation going. Her mind flitted to whether it would be a massive overstep for her to call her father’s lawyers directly, then back to the present. “Wow,” she said, generically and unimpressively, after a pause that was probably way too long. Chayala, you’re botching this. She shook herself mentally.

Yaakov tried again. “So, my sister told me she loves your chargers. I have no idea what a charger is, but I promised I’d relay the message,” he said. “I’d love to hear about why you decided to open your own business. That’s really cool.”