The building itself sits farther back than the other embassies on the street, but the Israelis have built a new wall that juts up directly against the sidewalk. It is the only embassy on the row that has two. “Hi,” I greet the guard outside the main gates. The guard studies me but doesn’t say a thing. “I’m here to see —” “Grace?” When I turn, I notice a small pedestrian-only gate along the side of the building. That is where Noah stands, looking at me through the bars. It’s like I’m visiting him in prison. Or more like he is visiting me. There is a loud buzz and then Noah pushes on the gate, comes toward me. “Well, hello, Cinderella,” he says with a roguish grin. “I should have known you would come back, looking for your slipper. The ladies always come back. But you’re too late. I’ll have you know the Dowager Countess of Capri was all over me last night after your untimely exit.” “That’s nice,” I say. “Not really. She’s my grandmother’s age.
