Page 66 of The Perfect Secret

Hannah set the table and told her about her new job. “I like it.” Hannah described the office, Barbara, and her co-workers.

Her grandmother gave her a hug. “I’m so glad. Barbara sounds different, and wonderful.”

“She is,” Hannah said. “I feel like I’m starting over in exactly the right place.

The next day at work, three people asked Hannah if she was dating anyone, two others mentioned the status of the single guys in the office, and two more offered to introduce her to them. The conversation was like sandpaper against her heart.

“Wow, these people are worse than my grandmother,” Hannah said to Stan, her new officemate.

He laughed. “Being the only gay man in the office has its benefits.”

“My grandma and her best friend could set you up,” she said with a wink.

He held out his hands. “My boyfriend wouldn’t like it.” He pointed to a photo on the desk and Hannah looked at the two handsome men with a dog.

“I’ll leave you alone, if only for the dog’s sake.”

“Roscoe appreciates that.”

After putting in a few hours of work, she walked into the break room for a cup of coffee. Turning around, she almost crashed into a guy who’d walked in behind her. Her coffee sloshed over her hand. With a cry of pain, she ran it under the faucet.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Here, let me help.” He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a first aid kit. Opening it, he tossed Band-Aids, lotions, antiseptic and an assortment of stuff onto the counter. “There must be something here for burns.”

She dried off her hand with a towel. “No, it’s fine. I think the air is the best thing for it. But thanks.”

“You can’t thank me. I’m the one who made your coffee spill.”

“There was enough milk in it to not burn too badly. Really, I’m fine.” She turned her hand this way and that to inspect. A slight redness, but even now the pain had receded.

“At least let me pay for your dry-cleaning bill.”

She looked at the stain on her grey peplum skirt and back into his eyes, which squinted in concern. She suspected he wouldn’t let this go. “I appreciate it.”

When she returned to her desk, Stan whistled. “Oh no.”

“I didn’t realize there was someone behind me. I’m glad I didn’t get him as well.”

“Him?”

“I didn’t catch his name. Average height, brown eyes, curly brown hair…”

“Probably Marc. He’s a bit of a klutz, but nice. Single too if you’re interested,” he said with a wink.

“He’s covering my dry cleaning. Let’s leave it as is.”

Stan shrugged. “Relationships have started on less.”

Later that afternoon, Hannah jumped as someone knocked on her office door. “Geez, I always startle you. I realized I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Marc Lang.” He held out a hand, which Hannah shook.

“Hannah Cohen.”

“I’m serious about the dry cleaning. Make sure you give me the bill. I don’t suppose you’d let me make it up to you and buy you a drink?”

“You’re already cleaning my clothes, Marc. It’s not necessary.” She looked at Stan, kind of hoping for an out.

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t invited for drinks.” He winked at Marc, who laughed.

“You can come too, Stan,” Marc said.