He hesitated then said, “No comment.”

Now I was intrigued. “What did you do in tech? Were you just a worker bee for some company or did you invent an app I’ll never be able to figure out how to use?” Jonah used to tease me for being so incompetent with technology.

“Both. I created a networking app Facebook bought and promptly shutdown.”

“I’m impressed. But why did they shut you down?”

“It’s the Facebook way. They see purchases as talent acquisitions. I had two partners who went to work for Zuck after the sale.”

“But not you?”

He shook his head. “I decided I needed a life change. So I came back to Santa Veneta and got a job as a math teacher.”

Silicon Valley tech bro to math teacher in a public high school. There was more to this story. “That is a major life change.”

Daniel topped off both of our wineglasses. “My dad had a heart attack. He survived,” he quickly added, “but it caused me to reevaluate some of my decisions. It also made me realize my parents weren’t getting any younger. I thought it would be nice to spend some time with them as an adult. Of course, six months after I moved back, they announced they’d sold their house and were retiring in Arizona.”

I laughed. “Sorry. I know it’s not funny but—”

“It’s fine. I don’t regret it. I like it here. It’s more laid back than Silicon Valley, although it’s very different than when I was a kid.”

“How so?” I’d only lived in Santa Veneta for a few years.

“When I grew up here, everyone was middle class. Or, at least, that’s how I remember it. I didn’t know anyone who was rich or poor. It’s much more economically segregated now.”

“I think that’s the whole country not just Santa Veneta.”

“You may be right.”

Then our food arrived, and the rest of the meal passed in a blur. Before I knew it, we were the last two people in the restaurant. When Daniel retrieved his car from the valet, he didn’t ask me where I wanted to go. He just drove to my house and again parked in Jonah’s spot in the driveway.

When he shut off the engine, I said, “Thanks for dinner. I had a nice time.” Initially, I was worried because we didn’t seem to have much in common. But the evening got better when we started drinking. I knew I should’ve stopped after I’d finished the first glass of wine, but the alcohol helped me keep thoughts of Jonah at bay.

“Me too,” he said. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Was he just being chivalrous or was he expecting to be invited in? I was hoping to avoid the awkward goodbye where you don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss or hug or not touch at all. I was so out of practice dating.

He seemed as surprised as I was when the words, “Would you like to come in?” floated out of my mouth. I immediately regretted them. I blamed it on my alcohol-soaked brain. It had been a long time since I’d drank this much.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“You don’t have to,” I said. “I know it’s late.”

“No, I want to. I definitely want to.”

That made one of us. But it was too late to reverse course now. I got out of the car and led Daniel into my house.

“Whoa,” he said, staring open-mouthed at the eighty-six inch television which took up most of one wall of the living room.

“Blame it on my husband.” I’d mentioned Jonah and Amelia over dinner, so Daniel knew they had once existed but he didn’t know much more.

“He had great taste in TVs. And women.”

I looked away, embarrassed, and said the first thing that came into my head. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having.”

I hadn’t planned on drinking anymore tonight. I’d drank too much already. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sounds great.”

I left him with the television, which he didn’t turn on, and I returned a few minutes later with our coffees. He drank his black while I stirred milk and sugar into mine. I hadn’t even taken a sip yet when he said, “I’d really like to kiss you. May I?”

The question threw me. Did people ask permission now? I guessed after Me Too they did. As with inviting him in, I didn’t think and just answered reflexively. “Uh, sure.”

He placed his hands, which were still warm from the coffee mug, on my shoulders and leaned in. His lips were as soft as they looked, and when his tongue touched mine, my long-dormant desire returned.

Tim was right. Some things you don’t forget.

I thoroughly enjoyed kissing Daniel. The panic didn’t set in until he suggested we go upstairs.

Chapter 6

“What’s wrong?” Daniel asked when I abruptly pulled away from him.

My heart was pounding so hard I wondered if he could hear it too. “Nothing,” I replied. I wasn’t about to explain the last time I took a man up to my bedroom the evening ended with my attempted suicide.

Daniel looked confused. “Am I misreading the signals here?”

“No.”

He looked even more confused. “So…you just don’t like beds? You’re into other furniture?”

Now I was confused, which helped lessen my panic because it gave me something else to focus on. Had I missed the latest trend on social media? Beds were out but bathtubs or couches or kitchen tables were in? “What other furniture?”

“You tell me. I’ll go wherever you want.”

That sparked an idea. “How about your place?”

“My place? Now?”

“Yes.”

Daniel stared at me with his mouth open. I needed to explain.

“I haven’t been with anyone since my husband died and…well…” I felt a bit guilty making him think my reticence to take him to my bedroom was all about Jonah, although he was part of it. But it was just as much about Jake and the suicide attempt. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to sleep with someone in that bedroom without thinking about everything else that happened in that bedroom too.

“I’m so sorry, Grace. I didn’t realize. Of course, we can go back to my place.”