Page 64 of The Widower
“I want you silent.”
“Not gonna happen.”He made a ridiculous face.
“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Hmm. So you’re still in the flirty phase, huh?” He chuckled. “Do you do this with all your employees?”
I had no idea how to shut him up without physically removing his vocal cords.
“Henry, I swear, you know I hate you, right?”
“As I’ve told you before,” he said, smirking, “I’m the closest thing you’ve got to a friend.” He winked, then called out, “Jeanne! Red wine, please—whatever’s in the stallion’s cellar!”
Jeanne froze, eyes wide, and I nearly grabbed him by the collar, that’s how pissed I was.
“No violence, please. This face is my livelihood—it’s how women fall in love with me.”
“What the hell are you really doing here?” I demanded.
“Nothing. I told you. Just came to talk. Though now that I’ve seen what’s possibly going on between you and your pretty employee, we definitely have more to discuss.”
“Who I’m involved with is none of your damn business.”
“Hmm.” He grinned, all mischief.“So it is true—you’re falling headfirst into this thing?”
“Henry…” My fists clenched.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
The idiot was laughing like a lunatic, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed Isabelle glancing our way every nowand then, curious. But it wasn’t just that—there was something different in her eyes now. The fear she used to have when looking at me… it was gone.
And that wasn’t good. Because she should be afraid.
That woman can’t get any closer.
“Anyway,” Henry said, waving off the tension, “jokes aside, I wanted to let you know we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other this month. I’ll be staying in town.”
“Because I clearly don’t get enough bad news on a daily basis,” I muttered.
“Oh, don’t pretend. I know you’re thrilled.”
“Ecstatic. Over the moon.”
“Just saying—we’re going out a few nights. We’ll drink a few… or all of them, I don’t know yet. Hit a theme park like a couple, maybe adopt a dog.”
The man was insane.
“I’ll adopt the dog if it means you’ll leave me the hell alone,” I said.
And I meant it. If that’s what it took to get Henry off my back, I’d do it.
“The dog part’s negotiable,” he said, grinning.
“It’d still be easier for me to adopt one than go drinking with you.”
“Oh, sure,” he said in a mocking tone, clutching his chest dramatically. “Hi, my name’s Colin Adams, and since I have a private bar, I’m too important to go out with my one and only friend!”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed.The guy was out of his mind.
