Leah turned her gaze toward him. This last work trip had left her with an extra dose of freckles. “What about you, E?”

Ethan turned his fork over a few times, pretending he was checking for water spots. “Umm . . . well . . . I hired someone to run a new seminar series, actually.”

Why had he brought that up? Probably because he found himself thinking about Naomi in most of his free time.

“That sounds nice.” His mother dipped her spoon into her bowl. “Anyone I’ve heard of?”

“Maybe?” Ethan couldn’t decide whether he wanted his mother to know who Naomi was. “Her name’s Naomi Grant.”

“Shut up.” Leah smacked the dining table with both palms, rattling the glassware and making the butter quiver. “You hired Naomi Grant? Are you kidding me? Is she as badass in person as she seems online?”

Two scalding spoonfuls of soup didn’t save him from the dual sets of eyes awaiting his response.

“She’s very remarkable, yes,” he said finally, his throat on fire.

Leah sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “I can’t believe you got someone as cool as Naomi Grant to work for you.”

“Are you saying I’m not cool?” His ego was really taking a hit this month.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Leah said without even an ounce of remorse.

“Aw, honey, I think you’re cool.” His mom shrugged. “You know, for a rabbi.”

Ethan sighed.

“So, who’s Naomi Grant?” His mother looked back and forth between them.

Ethan paused, not sure how Naomi preferred to disclose her professional history. “She’s a local entertainer and entrepreneur.”

Leah helped herself to more bread and grinned. “Ethan’s pointedly trying to avoid saying she’s a former porn star who now runs the most popular sex education website in the country.”

He shot her a glare. “Yes, thanks.” Even though they were both now in their thirties, because Leah was still so obviously the rebellious, problem child, she took every opportunity to get Ethan, with his squeaky-clean-since-grade-school reputation, in trouble.

Across the table, his sister beamed.

“I see.” Renee’s eyebrows had traveled toward her hairline. “And what will this Ms. Grant do at the synagogue? Surely she won’t reenact any . . .”

Leah snorted.

Ethan closed his eyes and counted to three.

“I’ve hired her to teach a seminar on modern intimacy.”

“Oh.” Renee lowered her spoon carefully. “Well. That’s certainly . . . different.”

“That’s the idea,” Ethan said. “I told you I’m trying to bring younger people to the synagogue. These events put Beth Elohim on the radar of people who never would have considered us otherwise. Naomi has a unique résumé that makes her perspective incredibly valuable.”

“You should bring her around sometime,” Leah said. “Mom and I would love to meet her.”

Ethan pressed his foot down hard on hers under the table.

“What?” Renee lowered her spoon and frowned, catching the tension between them. “You think I’d embarrass you? I’ll have you know I have seen plenty of pornography in my lifetime.”

Ethan and Leah shared a panicked glance.

“Look what you’ve done,” he said, cutting his gaze to where their mother was now placidly helping herself to slices of brisket from a covered dish in the center of the table.

“I regret my actions.” Leah dropped her spoon and took a long swallow of wine.

Renee hummed thoughtfully. “What exactly is covered in a modern intimacy seminar?”

“Ooh, good question, Mom.” Leah could not have looked more pleased that Ethan was taking the brunt of the uncomfortable dinner conversation. He made a mental note to ask about her ex-boyfriend at the first opportunity.

Ethan helped himself to green beans. “The syllabus Naomi has come up with is built around seven relationship milestones.” She’d emailed him a draft earlier in the week. “It starts with how to find someone you want to date, then introduces a first-date framework to help you decide if you actually like that person.”

“Ooh, that sounds super useful.” Leah pointed her fork at him. “I can never tell if I’m only dating someone because I’m bored.”

“That’s a thing?” His mother frowned into her glass.

“Definitely a thing,” Leah confirmed.

“As I was saying,” Ethan continued. “After the first-date module, there’s one about communication practices. Then I think it’s integrating a new person into your life?” He took a bite of salad and chewed thoughtfully. “That’s like introducing them to your friends and that kind of thing.”

“Oh. That should be fun for you,” his mother said. “All your friends are octogenarians.”

“Not all of my friends.” Ethan considered. “Just most of the people I spend time with.” To be fair, there were younger people in the intersynagogue softball league he played in. Though not really on his team.

Leah cracked pepper over her vegetables. “What happens after you introduce the women you’re dating to your silver-haired pals?”