“We’re not…”
“Come on.” He hopped up and grabbed the picnic basket by the handles. “It’s happy hour somewhere. I’ll buy you a drink.” He looked over his shoulder. “As a friend.”
Rachel hurried after him. She’d figure out why along the way.
Chapter 7
“Don’t give me that look,” Zack said over the buzz of other drinkers in the midday bar. “This is the manliest drink I could possibly get, and I’ll tell you why.”
Rachel stifled another laugh. The fruity cocktail, complete with lemon wedge on the rim, was something the waitress had deposited before her while giving Zack the rum and Coke. He hadn’t waited for her to turn around before switching the drinks. “Okay. Why?”
“Because there is way more alcohol in these girly cocktails than there is in manly shit.” Zack pulled the wedge off and slurped half the drink down his throat. Red liquid dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Rachel’s lips turned downward into a disenchanted scowl of disgust. “Plus it’s delicious. Strawberry.” He put the drink back down. “Want a taste?”
“No thanks.” Rachel preferred Coke and alcohol to whatever was in that. Vodka, probably, and not enough of it, no matter what Zack said. “By the way, weren’t you going to tell me why you don’t like being called Feldstein?”
Zack almost snorted his next swig. “What the…”
“You said that if I went out with you, you’d tell me what was up with Feldstein.”
“Man…” Zack slammed his glass down and dabbed his nose with a napkin from the dispenser. “You really know how to time your jokes.”
“I’m serious, though. Both times I accidentally called you Feldstein, you acted like I personally punched your grandmother in the face.”
“And you bring up my grandmother!” Zack leaned back in his chair with a grin. “I think you’ve been reading up on me, Rachel Taylor.”
“Reading up on… I didn’t even know that you were a full-time artist. You think I’m reading up on you?” There was stuff she could Google about him? Know what I’m doing tonight.
Zack shook his head. “Man, you’re killing me. You’re on a helluva wavelength, Rachel.”
“So what’s the big deal about it? Something about your grandmother?”
Zack glanced around before leaning in across the table. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“You sure? Because I’m about to tell you a big family secret.”
“Uh… as long as it’s not going to get me thrown in jail as a co-conspirator of some kind…”
“About my name,” Zack interrupted. “It’s Feldman. Legally. Going back to my great-grandfather when he came over from Europe.”
“Yeah?”
Zack gave her another look before continuing. “Eastern Europe.”
“Oh. Oh.”
Nodding sagely, Zack picked up another napkin and cleaned some of their mess off the table. “The family name used to be Feldstein. They changed it when they went through Ellis Island. Didn’t want people knowing that they were Jewish.”
“Why? Bad stuff happening back home?” This was well before World War II, right? Zack wasn’t that young… twenty-five at the absolute youngest.
“They thought it would make getting a job and starting their own company easier. They were right. My great-grandfather got a job at a shipping yard and learned the ins and outs of steel manufacturing from one of their clients. Next thing anyone knew, he was getting a loan to start his own steel company.”
“What happened then?”
“Uh…” Zack snorted. “The rest is history?”
Rachel continued to give him a quizzical look.
“Feldman Steel. You’ve… never heard of it?”
It rang a small bell, but he could’ve said O’Connor Steel or Yamamoto Steel and it still would’ve sounded familiar. All those generic company names sounded the same. “Maybe?”
“Jesus.” Zack laughed in disbelief. “You really didn’t look me up, did you?”
“What would I find?”
“My Wikipedia page, for one.”
“Because of your art?”
“Because of my… are you for real? I’m Zachary Feldman. You don’t know me at all?”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “No?”
“Wow. That’s unusual.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t keep up with steel companies.”
All he could do was laugh. “My father is Isaiah Feldman.” When that didn’t get a reaction, he said, “My grandmother was Isaac Feldman.”
That name sounded more familiar. Something about her American history classes. Specifically, the monopoly breakups of the early 20th century. Rockefeller. Carnegie. Wait, wasn’t Carnegie a steel guy? Who had a monopoly? How could… oh, right. Taking off after the monopolies were broken up and competition was finally allowed.
Oh.
Oh. That Feldman.
“You’re…”
“The youngest son of the youngest son of the… wait, kinda buzzed here…” Zack held up one finger, “the oldest son of Ezekiel Feldman, the founder of Feldman Steel. That’s me.”
“That… that means you’re…”
“Stinking rich.”
Rachel still had yet to touch her rum and Coke. Her eyes were too wide in shock to look at anything but Zack’s buzzed countenance. “Shit.”
“Yup. Shit.”
“So you’re like… an heir?”
“I guess. I’ve got two business-minded brothers ahead of me, though. They can have it. I don’t have a business bone in my body.”
“Wow.” Rachel was still too gobsmacked. This explains so much. The ability to pursue art full-time. Wearing nice clothes that probably cost more than Rachel’s gaming laptop. The super nice sandwich ingredients. Expensive art mediums like marble. Individually, they could’ve meant anything. But pieced together, they did point to a son of means. “That’s crazy. This is crazy. Shouldn’t…” She looked around the room, as if she would find a woman more worthy of Zack’s time in the well-lit bar. “Shouldn’t you be out with supermodels right now?”
Zack shrugged in indifference. “I’ve dated supermodels.” He said it so candidly! Because of course he had dated supermodels! Duh!
“I…” Rachel shook her head. “I’m nothing like that.”
Zack snorted. “So?”
“So…”
“If I’m hanging out with you, Rachel, it’s because I think you’re worth my time.”
***
Rachel was already on the phone with Parvati by the time she walked through her apartment door an hour later, having said a pleasant and very platonic good night to Zack at the end of her street. He was taking an Uber home, but made sure to walk her to her intersection.
He didn’t try to kiss her. He did, however, suggest they meet up again.
“I don’t know, Parv! He’s fucking rich!”
“I got that hint,” she said on the other end of the line. “But, oh my God.”
“Right?” Rachel flung herself onto her bed. “He’s hot and rich. What the hell is he doing hanging out with me? He said he wanted to meet up again soon!”
“Are you going to go? You have to!”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because… he’s hot and rich?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what to do with a man like that.”
“Fuck him! Literally!”
“No.” Rachel doubled-down on that decision the moment she heard Zack’s family history. All the way down to masking their heritage so they could overcome more hurdles? Kinda ruthless. Understandable, but damn ruthless. “He says he wants to be friends. It’s gonna stay that way. Besides, I’m supposed to be celibate right now, remember?”
She could hear Parvati rolling her eyes on the phone. “What are you doing next?”
“I dunno, but I think I should test how badly he wants to put up with me. Do you know what’s playing at the next Bollywood Cinema in the Park?”
“Nothing a man like him would be interested in, probably.”
Rachel grinned. “Exactly.”
Chapter 8
Anything that required Zack to put on formal clothing – and business casual counted as formal – was not worth his time. For one, he was not a fan of closed-toe shoes unless it was below sixty degrees outside. My toes need to breathe, all right? It’s best for all of us if the little piggies get their breathers. For another, suits were one of the most uncomfortable things on the planet. Either they didn’t fit right on his muscular body, or they were so uncomfortable that his skin cried for air.
Cried!
There were few things he went along with because his father expected it. Christmas was one of them. All right, so it’s my mother who expects that. The monthly meetings for Beta Kappa Phi, the fraternity the men in his family joined, were quite another.
Fuck. Greek. Life.
Like there were few things Zack agreed to do to keep his father happy, there were fewer men who detested his fraternity as much as Zachary Feldman did. He had joined because it was the proper thing to do. His older brothers, his father, and his grandfather had been members of Beta Kappa Phi since that branch of the Feldman tree started going to college.