“The rabbi?” He tilted his head, like he was trying to figure out if she didn’t understand the meaning of the word or simply that he’d used it to describe himself. “I’m a religious leader at the synagogue.”

She brushed aside the unnecessary definition. “Aren’t you a little . . .”

“Young?” He ducked his chin, as if he got that comment a lot.

“Hot.”

He laughed, the sound strangled at first and then a bit more relaxed. “There aren’t any rules dictating the appropriate level of attractiveness for religious leaders. At least not in Reform Judaism.”

Well, he hadn’t tried to deny it.

“Unbelievable.” And to think she’d had so many wicked plans for him.

“Is that a no?”

Naomi smiled at him with her mouth closed and resumed walking. She checked the schedule in her hand. “That’s a no, pal.”

“Can I ask why you won’t consider it?” He jogged a little to catch up with her long-legged strides. “I’m told given the opportunity, I can be very convincing.”

She huffed low in her throat. Now, that she could believe. “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

“Are you an atheist? Even though the course would be affiliated with the synagogue, as the instructor, you’d be under no obligation to practice.” Ethan’s words tumbled over themselves as he rushed to reassure her. “We offer quite a few secular meetings. Knitting, for example, and water aerobics at the JCC.”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed, and her feet came to a halt. She could smell a stunt a mile away. “I’m not into being used in some kind of publicity farce.” If her name made headlines, she’d dictate what they said.

He stopped dead in his tracks so that the two of them were now creating a blatant traffic jam in the stifling hallway. “Of course not. I would never—”

“Or a charity case.” Naomi had no interest in “rehabilitating her image.” No desire to let her life become the before in some motivational recruitment video. The last thing she needed was saving.

“Naomi . . . erm . . . Ms. Grant . . . You’d be doing me the favor. If anyone’s a charity case, I am. Me and my crumbling synagogue. Seriously, our attendance numbers are so low we can barely fill the first ten rows.”

“Trust me, I’m not the answer to your prayers.” He obviously didn’t understand who she was or what she did. “Look me up, you’ll see what I mean.” Naomi didn’t regret any of her actions, but she also wasn’t naive about their consequences.

“With all due respect, I know who you are,” he said, and to his credit, he didn’t smirk. “My sister was an early adopter of your company’s subscription platform.” He did lower his eyes at that, but only for a moment. “She’s a big advocate of the work you’re doing to build an inclusive online community. She went so far as to send me your profile in Forbes.”

And there, finally, was a blush. A poppy shade, high and bright on his cheeks.

“I believe they called you ‘Alfred Kinsey in stilettos.’”

Naomi wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure they meant well.”

“I think you’re very impressive,” he said, his voice deliciously deep.

“You’re not a Shameless subscriber, are you?”

Reform Judaism might be relatively chill, but it wasn’t that chill. At least, not the last time she’d checked.

“No. I mean, not yet. If that’s important to you, I’ll certainly look further into it.”

Naomi’s heart stuttered, and she had to remind herself again that he was persona non grata. It had been a long time since she’d received a proposition that wasn’t carnal.

“Ms. Grant.” He opened the door for her as they got to the end of the hallway. “I’m offering you a classroom because I believe in your capabilities as an educator. I’m trying to rebuild a community of my own. To appeal to younger people. To show them that Judaism and their lifestyles are complementary rather than at odds. If I can’t make Judaism relevant, if its practice can’t accommodate what intimacy looks like today, what’s left of my congregation is going to get rid of me well before I show them what I’m capable of.”

Naomi was shocked that the hallway full of conference attendees hadn’t stopped to clap at that little speech. She had to get out of there before she did something reckless.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for. It was nice meeting you.” Sort of. “Good luck saving your synagogue.”

“Wait. Just one more moment. I promise to stop bothering you after this.” He had no idea how much he was bothering her. “But is there any chance you could recommend someone else from your company who might consider the opportunity?”

Naomi slowed her stride. “Are you married?”

The question landed like a piano between them. “Uh . . . no.”

“Engaged or otherwise romantically attached?”

“I’m not.” He shook his head for good measure.

“Then I’ve got nothing to offer you.”

“Kol hat’chalot kashot,” Ethan said under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he said, offering her a smile. “It’s an old Hebrew adage. It means ‘All beginnings are difficult.’ I have to confess. I’ve lost the thread of this conversation. Are you still rejecting my job offer?”