She took a step back. Then another. It wasn’t enough.

“I think this might be a lost cause,” she said.

“That’s okay.” Ethan frowned down at the slightly faded but still prominent stain. “Maybe I can figure out a way to cover it with my tallis.”

“Ah yes. I’ve heard prayer shawls are not just a sign of communal solidarity and devotion to God, but also a pragmatic fashion choice for spring.” She slipped back into the comfort of sarcasm like a warm bath.

This time Ethan’s smile was indulgent. “So, what can I do for you? You didn’t come here to rescue my wardrobe.”

Oh. Right.

“I actually came to talk to you about the lecture series, but if this is a bad time”—she looked meaningfully at his shirt—“I can come back later.”

“No.” He waved her off. “Please sit.”

Naomi let herself sink into the chair across from his desk. Easily convinced. “Okay.”

He waited expectantly with his hands folded in front of him.

She forced herself to gather the reluctant words she’d come to deliver. “I’m not sure I can keep doing the seminars.”

“Oh.” Ethan lowered his gaze, picked up the broken pen, and fiddled with the cap. “I see. Has else something come up?”

“Not exactly.” More like spending time with him made her want things she shouldn’t crave.

Not just sex. Though—she eyed the hard sweep of his jaw—definitely sex. The lecture earlier in the week had filled her with this false sense of community, and she knew she couldn’t let herself get used to the artificial high of acceptance. There were too many variables in the Modern Intimacy series that Naomi couldn’t control. If she kept going back to the JCC week after week, sooner or later she’d forget that there was no place for her in Judaism, or, more specifically, in this synagogue.

“I’m just really busy with my company right now,” she said tightly. “I’m sure you could find someone else who can step in—”

A knock on the door made them both start.

An older man with a white beard nodded at her before turning to Ethan.

“Rabbi Cohen, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need a private word, please.”

Ethan shifted the scowl he’d been wearing a moment before and nodded. “Of course. Give me a minute.”

The man ducked his head in acknowledgment and then returned to the hallway to wait.

Ethan stood, glaring at the ink stain on his shirt. “I’m sorry. That’s Jonathan Weiss, head of the synagogue’s executive board,” he said, keeping his voice low. “He cuts my paycheck, so it’s ill-advised for me to make him wait. Do you mind sitting tight for a few? I’ll make it quick.”

While slinking away would be a relief, Naomi was at least made of tougher stuff than that. “Don’t worry about it. Go ahead. I’m very adept at keeping myself occupied.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, neglecting to shut the door behind him in his haste.

Naomi pulled out her phone, flipping through text messages and emails. If she ordered Chinese food on her way home, she could probably beat the delivery driver to her door. Assuming the traffic on the freeway wasn’t worse than usual.

“Listen, Ethan, I know you’re a good kid.”

Wow. That Jonathan guy’s voice held a lot more condescension in the hallway than it had a moment ago in Ethan’s office. Shouldn’t he show the rabbi a little more respect?

“Kid? Come on, Jonathan. Even Morey doesn’t call me kid, and he’s got about twenty more years on me than you do.”

Okay, so eavesdropping was rude, but also, Naomi couldn’t help herself. She leaned her chair onto its back legs to get her ear closer to the open door.

“The board hired you with the assumption that you’d go about recruitment in new ways, but we’re advising you to tread carefully,” Jonathan was saying, the words coming out terse. “We’re concerned about potential breaches in propriety in regard to recent programming decisions.”

“I can assure you that all programming, new and otherwise, remains appropriate and professional,” Ethan said, with traces of warning in his tone.

“I hope that’s true. The board can’t afford to take any chances. Beth Elohim is already struggling with an image issue. The last thing we need is complaints from the community. I’ll be keeping an eye on things, just to be safe. As I’m sure you’d agree, where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire.”

Naomi tightened her grip around the arms of her chair.

“Jonathan.” Ethan’s voice was infinitely patient. “As you know, our interests are aligned. We both want to save this synagogue. In order to do that, something’s gotta give. These Modern Intimacy events can work to bring in younger members, I know it. But you’ve got to give me the benefit of the doubt here.”

“I know that, Ethan, and I’m trying, but do you really think it’s appropriate to entertain behind closed doors?” Jonathan had lowered his voice, but Naomi’s hearing was perfect.

Her stomach clenched.

When Ethan spoke next, his voice was hard in a way Naomi never would have thought possible. “Jonathan. You’re riding dangerously close to insulting one of our overqualified volunteers, not to mention threatening my honor.”