Page 12 of The Perfect Secret

Her grandmother patted her cheek, which heated under her piercing gaze. “I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted. Anyone I’d be interested in?”

Hannah’s face heated and she recalled her conversation about blushing with Tess. “Bubbe, please don’t do this now.”

Sylvia winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you.” Turning, she headed into the living room.

With the wine flowing and plates filled with appetizers and desserts, the women made themselves comfortable around the room.

“So,” Sylvia said, “thoughts about the book?”

Karen was the first to respond, of course. She was excellent at leading conversations, even when she wasn’t supposed to. “I love reading about strong women and I found her journey interesting.”

“I thought it was wonderful how she came from a tough background and has had such success in life,” Sarah said. Sarah was a middle-aged recent member of the JCC. Hannah had gotten to know her in the last few months. Her comment reminded Hannah of Tess. When Sonia Sotomayor was growing up, a single-parent household wasn’t as common, and made things more difficult. Now, it mattered less. Would it have any bearing on Tess’s future? She shook her head. Tess’s future wasn’t her concern, although she wondered what Dan would think about the subject.

“The writing bothered me,” Rachel said, her whiny voice setting Hannah’s teeth on edge. Rachel complained about everything, even the books she, herself, chose.

“I don’t know; the writing didn’t bother me. Although the ending was a bit, eh,” said Sylvia.

This was the part Hannah couldn’t discuss, as she hadn’t gotten there yet. As the women dissected the book, Hannah’s thoughts wandered back to Dan. Back, hah. They hadn’t strayed far from him all day.

“What do you think, Hannah?” With a start, Hannah turned toward Karen.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?”

“Earth to Hannah,” Jodi chanted. Jodi and Hannah teased each other often. “Where were you?”

“Oh, maybe she’s thinking about the man she talked to at the concert the other night,” Rachel said with a smirk.

Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest. The last people she wanted to talk to about this were her book group. Not now, at least, when everything was new.

“Man? What man?” Karen asked. Oh geez, Karen was such a gossip.

Before she could respond, Rachel piped up. “She talked to Dan Rothberg and his daughter. You know the one I mean, he has a cane?”

Karen turned to her and Hannah sent a “help me” look to her grandmother. But Sylvia only shrugged.

“Oh right, I remember. He has the most gorgeous eyes. I’ve felt sorry for him after his wife died and all.” Karen’s gaze softened as she held Hannah’s hand.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Hannah asked. “Or to his wife?” Maybe having ayentahere would help her get some information.

Karen shook her head. “Ladies, let’s get back to the book.”

Hannah gritted her teeth to keep her jaw from falling onto the floor. Karen, the gossip maven, silenced the rest of them, including her. Shame and curiosity battled in her brain. What in the world was going on?

Later, after they’d finished the book discussion, Karen pulled her aside. “I think it’s wonderful you and Dan are friends. I have a soft spot for him, always have, and I wouldn’t want to tell tales about him here. He’s looked like he needed a friend. I think you and he are perfect together. It’s his story to tell, and I hope he’ll tell it to you sometime. Good luck.”

He needed a friend? She thought they would be more than friends. At least she hoped so.

Saturday evening, Dan double-checked the address in his phone with the one on the building in front of him. 300 Newark Street, on the other side of Hoboken from where he lived. He walked into the lobby and gave his name to the doorman, who called up to the apartment. Thank God it wasn’t some fourth-floor walkup.

“She’ll be right down.”

He waited in the navy and gold lobby, surrounded by large windows overlooking Hoboken’s back streets. The elevator dinged. The double doors opened and Hannah stepped out. His breathing hitched and his heart beat like a snare drum. Trying not to stare, he admired the way her skinny jeans showed off her calves, the way her floral top hugged her breasts, and how her short black blazer accentuated her waist. When she approached, he realized her heels brought her almost to his nose. Her vanilla scent enveloped him.

“Hi,” he said. Wow, great opening. “You look beautiful.”

Her face took on a pink glow. He thought he might not have seen anything as appealing in a long time.

“Thank you,” she said. “Your sweater does amazing things for your eyes.”