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“Pencils.” The bowl started to shake in my grasp.

“Superb idea. Why rot the little angels’ teeth?”

My knuckles relaxed. At least someone agreed with my logic.

“You’re not passing out treats at your house?” I asked.

He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Trick-or-treat is strictly an American tradition. And with Rebecca gone . . . Well, I thought if I turned out the porch light, the kiddies would take the hint. But there’s no dissuading them. They wouldn’t quit ringing the bell. And when I opened the door to tell them the bad news, they gave me such devilish faces, I thought I’d better come over here to be safe. Perhaps I can hide behind the pencil bowl.”

I grimaced. “I’m not having any better luck than you bribing a smile out of those ungrateful little monsters. I’m getting the idea that pencils and stickers don’t qualify as treats in their mind. Tricks, maybe.”

He looked over his shoulder as the next batch of hooligans walked up the sidewalk.

“Let me give it a go.” He came up the steps and took the bowl out of my grip. “I’ll get rid of every last one of them.”

My brow furrowed. Get rid of the trick-or-treaters? This was my once-a-year missionary opportunity.

“The pencils, I mean,” he said, and shook the bowl.

The new arrivals gave the call and came close to collect their prize. Their hands pulled back in hesitation.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” David scolded them. “These pencils will be valuable antiquities one day. Put one in your trinket box, and I guarantee when you graduate from high school, you’ll be able to sell it on eBay and pay your way through college.”

At his words, tiny fingers grabbed indiscriminately at the bowl, rushing to take more than one goody.

I giggled into my hand, pleased with his clever sales job.

“It’s definitely a different world than the one I grew up in,” I said as the kids left and made their way to less future-oriented porches.

David crossed his arms and leaned against the vestibule wall, shaking his head. “Today’s kindergartners are more versed in computers than most adults.”

I looked to the ground, embarrassed by my own ignorance. “I guess not everybody’s had the opportunity to be around one.”

His hand touched my chin. I met his eyes, fascinated by the pale, yet piercing, blue.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said softly. “A career in computers was my dream as a kid. I feel very fortunate that I was able to make that dream happen.”

More goblins and hobos came to the door and David made his pitch. Only five pencils remained when the last trick-or-treater disappeared into the night. I tore the Lazarus wrap from my head, glad to be liberated. “Thanks for helping out,” I said, walking after David onto the porch.

“My pleasure.” He paused on the top step.

I smoothed my hair. “I never could have gotten rid of all those pencils without you.”

He turned and started down the stairs, but paused and looked back.

“Tish, would you have dinner with me next Friday?”

My heart slammed to a halt.

His words transported me to Single Woman’s Euphoria. His was my second invitation to dinner since I moved in. Poor Brad hadn’t had a chance, of course. Lousy timing, along with a poor choice of occupation, had doomed him from the start.

David came up the steps and leaned close, his mouth magnifying before my eyes. My breath drained out as I imagined those lips against mine.

“Dinner? Next Friday?” I couldn’t think of a single conflict, besides the fact that he was a married man.

I grabbed hold of my enthusiasm and stuffed it in under a rock. “You know, David, normally I’d love to go to dinner with you. But, um, you’re really not free to ask.”

Sadness welled up in his eyes. “The divorce papers came today. It’s officially over between Rebecca and me.”

My breath caught.

“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t begin to imagine his pain. “Are you sure you’re ready to go on a date?”

He swallowed and nodded. “It’s been a really lonely year. We could get together and just talk.”

“Okay. Sure. Dinner sounds nice.”

“Thanks, Tish. How’s seven o’clock at the Rawlings Hotel?”

Sheesh. Brad had wanted to take me to the Rawlings. I bit my cheek, allowing the sharp pain to chase away the guilt that threatened to ruin my triumphant moment.

“I would love to join you at the Rawlings Hotel.”

A smile lit his face. “You won’t be sorry. The beef Wellington is superb.” He trotted down the steps and across the lawn toward his own yard.

I watched until he disappeared into the shadows.

Alone again, I rubbed my arms to ward off the dampness of the black night.

“Can I lend you my coat?” The unexpected voice came from the darkness beyond the porch.

A scream tore from my throat and my hands flew to my neck in panic.

Officer Brad stepped into view, laughter on his face.

“Do you know what night this is?” I said through injured vocal cords. “Never sneak up on somebody on Halloween. They’re liable to drop dead from heart failure.”

His smile faded to a barely restrained grin. “I’m sorry. I raced over as soon as the insanity ended. I wanted to make sure you locked things up good tonight. Even Rawlings has its undesirable element—especially on Halloween.”

“How long have you been standing by the porch?” I asked.

“Long enough to know that you’d choose dinner with a pretty face over dinner with a man of impeccable character.”

I slumped into my waist.

“I was afraid you’d heard that. Are you mad?” Brad was nice enough to come over and make sure I double-bolted my doors. I hated the thought that my flat-out refusal of his dinner invitation earlier in the week had just gotten rubbed in his face.

“I’m a patient man, Tish. I figure once you get over the fascination of his good looks and English accent, you’ll be ready for a guy who actually has a personality, not to mention a green thumb.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks for the tomatoes.”

He plopped down on the top step and looked out at the street. “And there’s the added benefit that I’m actually available.”

I sat next to him on the stairs and bit my tongue. It was none of his business that Rebecca finally got around to sending David divorce papers.

He tapped his fingertips together. “You look great, by the way. Who are you supposed to be—Lazarus?”

I squealed and gave a giddy clap. “You’re the first to guess right.”

He turned toward me. “You know, when you smile like that, you kind of look like you’ve been raised from the dead.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, squeezing myself in excitement. Even Brad could tell I was feeling resurrected tonight. It would take a hammer and chisel to knock the smile off my face before next Friday.

A sigh of contentment snuck out. My first real relationship in my adult life was just over the horizon. Rebecca’s loss would be my gain. I twirled a coarse strand of hair around my finger and made a mental note to set up an appointment with a beautician. Funny how Tammy Johnson’s smirking face leapt into my mind. I couldn’t help but smile at the crushed look that was sure to come when I told her of my special occasion. Talk about heaping burning coals on her snobbish head.

Brad cut into my victory dance. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you sure you want to get involved with a guy you barely know?”

“Gee, Brad, I barely know anybody. I think that’s the point of going to dinner. To get to know each other. It’s not like he asked me to marry him.”

Brad harrumphed. “Don’t be surprised if he does.”

I shot a look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He clamped his lips together.

My breath quickened. Brad had a real talent for bringing out the beast in me.

“I’m sure Rebecca felt the same way, once.”

I felt like slapping him. “So? She changed her mind. From what I can tell, the whole divorce thing was her idea. David seems like the kind of guy who could love a woman ’til death do them part.”