His Little Secret

HIS LITTLE SECRET

Chapter One: The Man Next Door

I've always believed that every man has a secret.

Some hide money from their wives. Others pretend they don't notice attractive women staring at them. And then there are men like my new neighbor, who look perfectly ordinary until you pay attention.

His name was Daniel, and he moved into the little house next door three weeks ago.

The first time I saw him, he was struggling to carry two enormous boxes through his front door. I offered to help, and he thanked me about six times before I finally told him to save his gratitude for somebody who deserved it.

He laughed.

That was the first thing I noticed about him: his smile.

The second was his nervousness around me.

Daniel wasn't an unattractive man. Quite the opposite. He had a handsome face, expressive eyes, and a quiet manner that made him seem younger than he probably was. He dressed neatly, kept to himself, and never appeared interested in showing off.

Still, whenever we spoke, he behaved as though he were trying very hard not to say the wrong thing.

I found that strangely endearing.

Being single in my early thirties had taught me that confidence wasn't always the most attractive quality in a man. Sometimes, I preferred someone who made me curious.

And Daniel certainly made me curious.

I lived alone, worked hard, and enjoyed my independence. I wasn't desperate for a relationship, but I wasn't opposed to finding someone interesting, either.

Daniel seemed interesting.

I just couldn't figure out why.

⸻

That Friday evening, I decided to take him some food.

I'd cooked far too much, which was the excuse I gave myself. The truth was that I wanted to see him again.

I put some rice and chicken into a bowl, changed into a comfortable dress, and walked across the few steps separating our houses.

When he opened the door, I almost laughed.

He was wearing an oversized shirt and loose trousers, and his expression suggested that my arrival was the last thing he'd expected.

"Hi, neighbor," I said.

"Vanessa. Hey."

He stepped aside to let me in, although he looked as though he was still deciding whether that was a good idea.

"I brought you dinner."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know. That's what makes it a nice gesture."

He smiled and accepted the bowl.

For a few minutes, we stood in the kitchen making the sort of polite conversation neighbors make when they're still learning each other's habits.

Then I noticed something.

He kept glancing toward the hallway.

Not once or twice. Several times.

It was subtle, but I noticed.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked.

His attention snapped back to me.

"What? No."

"Then why do you keep looking down the hallway?"

"I'm not."

I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed awkwardly.

"Okay, maybe I am."

I wanted to ask more questions, but the poor man looked ready to dig a hole in the kitchen floor and disappear into it.

So I let him off the hook.

"Relax, Daniel. I'm not the police."

"That's good to know."

"And even if I were, I doubt you'd be my most interesting case."

He laughed properly that time.

There it was again--that smile.

I decided I liked making him laugh.

Before leaving, I turned toward him.

"Are you busy tomorrow evening?"

He looked surprised.

"Not particularly. Why?"

"Come over for dinner. I'll cook something better than whatever you were planning to eat."

He grinned.

"You're assuming I can cook?"

"I'm assuming that if you could, you'd have invited me over already."

He shook his head, laughing.

"Fair enough."

"Seven o'clock."

"Seven it is."

I left feeling oddly pleased with myself.

I still didn't know much about Daniel, but I had the feeling there was more to him than he allowed people to see.

And I intended to find out.

⸻

The following evening, I heard a knock at precisely seven.

Daniel stood outside wearing dark trousers, a neatly pressed shirt, and a watch that suited him perfectly.

I looked him over before I could stop myself.

"Well," I said, smiling. "Somebody made an effort."

He glanced down at his clothes.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all. You look handsome."

His ears turned slightly red.

I nearly laughed.

"Come inside before I embarrass you any further."

Dinner was wonderful, mostly because Daniel turned out to be much more interesting once he stopped worrying about everything he said.

He had a dry sense of humor, listened when I spoke, and asked questions that showed he was actually paying attention.

We talked about work, family, music, and the strange habits people developed when they thought nobody was watching.

Eventually, our conversation drifted toward fashion.

I'd always enjoyed experimenting with clothes. I believed an outfit could change not only how people saw you but also how you felt about yourself.

"People underestimate what clothes can do," I told him. "You can put on something completely different and discover a side of yourself you rarely show anybody."

Daniel became unusually quiet.

I noticed immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Daniel."

He looked at me.

"Yes?"

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"Acting like you've accidentally wandered into a conversation you weren't prepared to have."

He laughed, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, I considered pressing him for an explanation.

Instead, I rested my glass on the table.

"Listen, you don't have to tell me everything about yourself. We barely know each other."

His shoulders relaxed.

"Thank you."

"Besides, I have secrets of my own."

That surprised him.

"Really?"

I gave him a knowing smile.

"Did you think I spent my evenings sitting beside the window, waiting for handsome neighbors to bring me dinner?"

He burst out laughing.

I joined him.

And for the first time that evening, he seemed completely at ease.

After dinner, we moved to the sitting room and talked until nearly ten.

When Daniel finally stood to leave, I walked him to the door.

"That wasn't so terrible, was it?" I asked.

"Not at all."

"Good. Because I'm inviting you again."

He smiled.

"I'd like that."

I watched him cross the garden and disappear into his house.

Then I closed my door and leaned against it, smiling to myself.

There was something about that man.

I couldn't explain it yet, and I certainly wasn't about to admit that I was already looking forward to seeing him again.

But I knew one thing.

Daniel was hiding a part of himself.

And somehow, I suspected that the part he was hiding might be the most interesting thing about him.

I just hoped that, when the time came, he'd trust me enough to let me see it.

I had no idea how soon that moment would arrive