The event venue at the Glass House in San Jose, California had been decorated to look like a haunted forest. The dark, silvery moonlight gave the 1,600 square foot Sky Patio an eerie glow. The fog machines made the artificial moss-covered trees seem as if they were stretching their craggily branches in your direction as you passed. The temperature outside on the rooftop was a cool sixty-one degrees, but there were still a few propane patio heaters in case anyone got too chilly.

Jade had done a great job coordinating the event. It was a shame she couldn’t be here.

As I made my way to the bar, I could hear someone following closely behind me. “Club soda with a lime twist,” I told the bartender, then I turned around, not at all surprised to find Miranda staring at me with a red-lipped grin as wide as the ocean.

“Happy Halloween,” I said, turning back toward the bar.

She sidled up next to me. “Aren’t you going to comment on my costume?” she asked in that husky Demi Moore voice that grated on my every nerve ending.

I took another glance at her Princess Jasmine costume, quickly looking away from her bulging cleavage. “Aladdin. Very cool.”

She laughed as she turned around to show me the back of her costume, and the way her long, black hair fell down her back in a loose plait. But I wasn’t born yesterday. It was abundantly clear she wanted to show off the massive junk in her trunk.

“My aunt made the costume and I did my hair. Do you like?”

The bartender slid my club soda to me and I slid him a twenty-dollar bill. “Sure. Like I said, very cool,” I replied to Miranda, then I headed toward the other side of the patio to get a better view of the city lights.

As I arrived at the railing, the view took my breath away. It was Halloween on a Saturday night in Silicon Valley. The city was alive with color and light, blanketed in glitter and mischief.

“Wow. What a gorgeous view,” Miranda murmured as she curled her talons around the steel railing.

As she began to say something else, my mind drifted to the memory of my first Halloween party with Laurel. We had only been dating a few weeks. When I knocked on the door of her apartment, I was certain she would get a kick out of my fireman costume. But when she opened the door and I saw her dressed like Ursula from The Little Mermaid, that was the moment I knew I loved her. The costume and the fat-suit underneath were homemade, due to lack of funds, but she never looked more majestic to me.

“Why aren’t you dressed up?” Miranda asked when I came out of my memory.

I closed my eyes as a soft breeze skimmed over my heated skin. This weather was too warm for the middle of autumn. I’d only been in California six hours and I already missed the rain.

“I didn’t feel like being anyone else today,” I replied, opening my eyes as I turned around and leaned back against the railing.

She let out a soft, sultry laugh. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone else if I were you, either. So, where’s your wife?”

The hard edge in her voice when she spoke the word “wife” was unmistakable.

I shook my head. “My wife is at home,” I replied, not taking her bait.

“Really? I heard you two were separated.”

I turned my head to look her in the eye. “You heard wrong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, no need to get upset. Just making chit-chat.”

I laughed. “Maybe you should go get a drink and make chit-chat with someone else.”

She was silent for a long while. I wondered if I’d offended her, but I was too annoyed with her to look at her smug face and find out.

“That’s a good idea,” she finally said. “Do you want me to bring you something from the bar?”

Jesus fucking Christ. This girl didn’t take a hint well.

I held up my glass of club soda. “I’m all set. Thanks.”

“No bourbon tonight?” she asked playfully, a vague reference to the bottle of bourbon she’d sent me a few weeks ago, which I poured over Laurel’s glorious pussy during sex.

“Not tonight,” I said, then I downed the rest of the soda.

Her smile returned. “Why not? Afraid you might do something you’ll regret?”

“Nope. Just not drinking much these days.”

Her smile shriveled. “Are you in AA now, or something?”

I ignored her question as another memory came to me. “I spent the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college in this tiny village in Costa Rica with a couple of friends, just partying and trying to learn to surf.” I smiled as I stared at the crystal-clear ice in my glass while imagining the crystal-blue ocean waves. “The drinking water was questionable, and we couldn’t afford bottled water, so we got in the habit of adding a little vodka or tequila to our water to kill the bad stuff. When I came back from Costa Rica, I was a full-blown alcoholic. I had to wean myself off the stuff by having an occasional finger of bourbon every three or four days. That’s when my love of bourbon began.”

Miranda let out an impatient sigh. “Okay, so are you or are you not an alcoholic?”

I finally spun around to her and looked her dead in the eye. “That’s none of your business,” I said, then I placed the empty glass on a nearby table and headed for the exit.

As I passed Kent — in a vampire costume — and a couple of board members chatting near the center of the patio, Kent called out to me in a Dracula-like voice. I should stop and say hello, do the usual schmoozing and pretending I cared what any of them were saying. But I was done pretending to be someone I wasn’t.

I didn’t start this company so I could spend my life obsessing over the bottom line and whether or not our latest app was silly enough to appeal to the right demographic. Laurel and I had dreamed of using technology for the greater good. We often joked that our marriage had a slogan: changing the world one app at a time.

The Halo Foundation was a step in the right direction, but I messed that up by putting Miranda in charge of it. Maybe it was time to cut the umbilical cord and set Halo free.

I stopped next to Kent and looked around at the group of investors. “Good evening, gentlemen,” I said, then I looked Kent in the eye. “You took a chance when you invested in me to create this company. And you’ve been tolerant of my prolonged absence since the death of my son. For that, I will always be grateful. But this company isn’t what it used to be. It isn’t what I envisioned.”

Kent looked confused and embarrassed by my words. “What are you talking about?” he said, with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Is this some kind of Halloween prank?”

“I’m done, Kent. Send me a buyout package and I’ll have my lawyer look it over.” I glanced around the group and nodded. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”