Page 1 of The Perfect Secret

Chapter One

It wasn’t the sound of a body hitting the floor that registered right away. The thump was in the periphery, a noise that stood out a little more than the background conversations floating around her as Hannah chatted with friends after the concert. It was the silence in the aftermath that drew her attention to the mass of people who moved toward the opposite end of the lobby in the Jewish Community Center of Manhattan.

Through a tangle of limbs, she watched them assist a man who had fallen. Off to the side was a teenager, propelled out of the way by the ever-helpful gaggle, and who now looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to dive back into the fray or melt into the ground.

Hannah’s heart squeezed. She remembered too well what it was like to be a teenager. With a half-smile, the kind you give to a kindred soul, she walked toward her. “Everything okay?”

The girl kept her gaze focused on the grey-haired man being helped to his feet. “Yeah, the crowd pushed and someone backed into him and his knee buckled and… I tried to help, but they sort of took over.”

She definitely had the “melt-into-the-ground” look.

“You know, if you kind of look through all of them, put your shoulders back and position your lips into a semblance of a smile, no one will notice how embarrassed you are,” Hannah said.

The teen whipped around, straight brown hair swinging, and looked at her askance. “Excuse me?”

“Hi, I’m Hannah.” She held out her hand, and after a couple of seconds the teen took it. “Growing up with three olderbrothers who took great pleasure in embarrassing me, I thought I’d pass along a little of the wisdom I’ve accumulated.” She looked at the teen’s red cheeks and shook her head. “I don’t have any suggestions for how to stop a blush, though. Wish I did because it drives me crazy even today.”

The teen drew her hands to her cheeks and closed her brown eyes for a moment. “Great, just great.”

“Did you like the concert?”

The girl shrugged. “The guys were hot.”

Hannah laughed. “I know, right? Especially the one with the deep voice.”

Her face lit up. “Love him! Oh, I’m Tess, by the way. Sorry, my dad would kill me for my lack of manners.”

“Your dad?”

Tess took a step toward the same grey-haired man who now limped over to them, leaning heavily on his cane. “Are you okay?”

Hannah did a double-take. When she’d seen him fall, she’d assumed by his cane and his grey hair he was elderly. Now, she vowed to get her sight checked. Tomorrow. Sure, his salt and pepper hair fooled her from a distance, but it was obvious he was one of those prematurely grey people, because his face was unlined, his eyes a bright piercing blue beneath black brows, his jaw square, and his posture straight and sure, despite his limp. His hand, which grasped his cane, was powerful and not marked with age spots. He was no elderly grandpa. He was gorgeous.

The man gave a shrug. “My pride is hurt more than anything else.” He touched her shoulder. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.” He turned his gaze to Hannah. “Do you two know each other?”

The hated blush heated Hannah’s cheeks and neck. “Actually, we just met. I’m Hannah Cohen. Nice to meet you and Tess.”

“Dan Rothberg.”

She held out her hand. His handshake was firm and warm. This close to him, she could smell his spicy aftershave, and it reminded her of the clove-filled spice box they passed around duringHavdalah, which signaled the end of Shabbat and the start of the new week. She’d always loved the scent.

Discomfort made lines form on his face, as if he was embarrassed that she’d seen what happened to him. Empathy washed over her, and she searched for something to distract him. “Did you enjoy the concert?” Hannah asked.

He started to respond, but was interrupted. “Dad, can we go?”

“Sorry,” he said to Hannah. “I did. It was nice to meet you.” Turning toward Tess, he nodded. “Yes, Tess, we can go.”

She watched the two of them leave and wondered yet again how she mistook him for an old man. With a shake of her head, she returned to her book club friends.

“Do you know him?” Karen, her grandmother’s best friend and one of the women in the book club, asked as she approached. “I’ve seen him and his daughter around, but he doesn’t socialize. In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen him speak to anyone.” She lowered her voice. “I think you two would be perfect together.”

Hannah cringed inside. All she needed was for Karen Black, the “matchmaker,” to turn her focus on her. She raised her voice and to the group, “Is everyone coming to our apartment next week for book club?”

Dan and Tess walked in silence down the Hoboken street toward home. He glanced at his daughter, but she was immersed in her phone. Her hair formed a curtain and prevented him from seeing her face.

“I wish you wouldn’t walk and text. You’ll hurt yourself, or someone else.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”