Page 73 of The Bad Husband

His voice is tinged with bitterness.

I study him in silence while he ponders something.

“He’s the reason I have closed my bar,” he eventually says, leaning back in his seat and folding an arm behind his head.”

“What? Why?”

Flashing a smile, he looks at me.

“He doesn’t like competition.”

“How were you his competition?”

He shrugs.

“We never shared our clientele. His customers were never my customers, but the word got out that the crowds got bigger and bigger every weekend at my place. At some point he had enough of me.”

“What did he do?”

He laughs to himself.

“What any man like him would do. He had people come over, stir up trouble. There wasn’t a Saturday night without a scuffle. The customers began to steer away from my place. Once I started to lose patrons, I saw the writing on the wall, and I had to close it.”

I can’t believe my ears.

“What about where you’re working now? Isn’t that his competition?”

“Nope. Not really. It’s smaller. The owner is a woman. It’s just a different venue.”

“Why would he do something like that to you?” I ask, still grappling with disbelief.

He shrugs again.

“I don’t know. Maybe he had a personal thing for me. Do you know him well?”

His direct question makes me gasp.

“Um, no. Not really. He’s more of a distant relative. It’s a long story.”

“I hope you’re not going to share this with him,” he says quietly, and I catch him push his eyes down, checking my legs for the first time.

Our eyes meet again.

“I’m not discussing these things with him.”

“Is he with the same woman?” he finally asks, studying my face with a flicker of interest.

“The same woman? What are you talking about?” I ask, experiencing a pang of discomfort again.

“A stunning brunette. Big eyes, full lips.”

He talks like someone who’d very much like to have Henrietta in his car instead of me.

Perhaps she’s his type.

“He’s been on and off with her for a few years,” he says.

I freeze, my eyebrows slowly lifting.