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RSVP. Bill, I got one word for you: E-vite. Been tellin’ ya you need to get on the Internet. Password protection, dontcha know.”
    “Oh, Dad,” I said with a sigh.
    “Ah well,” Dad grumped. “I told you it didn’t make sense to try to finagle a surprise party in the man’s own house.”
    “What time you want me back from my weekly chess game?” Stan asked.
    “We told everyone to arrive at six, so if you come at six thirty, that would be perfect,” I said. “And do me a favor? Act surprised. Real surprised.”
    “You got it, boss lady.” He gave me a little salute and dug into his roast.
     
    Half an hour later, up to my elbows in sudsy water—Stan and Caleb cleaned the table and loaded the dishwasher, but I was stuck with pot duty—I made a mental list of last-minute items for tomorrow’s party.
    Call about the tamales. Pick up cake by five. Decorate between five and six. Desperately try to ignore the fact that Graham Donovan was coming. Shave legs and wear perfume.
    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. If I was brave enough to chase ghosts, surely I could handle one red-blooded, live male. Even a well-built, dark-eyed manly man with a wry chuckle who had a way of looking at me that made a deep, secret part of me start to melt.
    Graham used to be an inspector for California’s office of OSHA, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. In fact, he had helped to shut down a job site of mine not long ago. But long before that, Graham worked for my father, and I had developed a mad crush on him while I was in graduate school. He never seemed to return the interest until shortly before my wedding, when he made an entirely uncharacteristic, rashly romantic play for me and tried to dissuade me from marrying Daniel. Our one passionate, out-of-control kiss had been so unexpected and . . . thrilling  . . . that I had to struggle not to compare all subsequent kisses to it.
    Despite such a powerful inducement, I went ahead with the wedding. It didn’t take long to realize that Graham had been right about Daniel, a fact that mortified me then as well as now.
    Graham had been traveling for the past few months, studying green technology around the world. He was back in town and apparently swamped with all the details involved in setting up his new business. I’d only seen him briefly, by chance. Last time we ran into each other he said he had something to tell me, but we were interrupted by the high-pitched whine of a circular saw and a slew of workers needing guidance. The moment passed.
    The thought of what he’d wanted to tell me prompted my mind to cast about in wild speculation. He could have simply called, would have called, had it been something business-related. Wouldn’t he?
    I was trying to convince myself to pull up my big-girl pants and call him. This was the twenty-first century, as Caleb so often reminded me. No reason to wait for the man to ask.
    But when it came to romance, my self-confidence had taken a body blow. And it had been a decade since I’d been in the dating world. Still, the party tomorrow was the perfect opportunity. It was about time I moved on, shook off my damned divorce hangover once and for all. Daniel certainly had.
    Resolute, I stripped off my yellow rubber gloves, downed the rest of my drink, and headed for bed.
     
    Usually I was up early and on the job site by seven at the latest, but I’d told Caleb I would drop him off at University High School across the bay in Pacific Heights, so I spent the early morning in the home office with Stan, going over the payroll, signing vendor checks, and reviewing client contracts and schedules. After dropping off Caleb, I stopped by city hall to check on the progress of a couple of building permits. Dog waited in the car, greeting me each time I returned as though he’d thought he’d never see me again.
    It was past ten by the time I headed to Cheshire House.
    Since I hadn’t heard from Jim and Katenka, I was determined