Page 12 of What the Wife Knew

Chapter Eight

Her

Six Months Earlier

I waited for Richmond to return to the table with a fancy drink I had no intention of tasting. Three weeks of following him led me to this Brooklyn neighborhood and a dark-walled bar with a speakeasy vibe. He’d been nearby giving some sort of speech at a conference and stopped off here, likely to troll for a new woman to sleep with, which turned out to be perfect timing for me.

After a bit of flirting from across the room, he made his move. All smiles and deep voice, and now we sat in a dark corner, a few hours before rush hour.

Target acquired. Connection made.

He slipped into the booth, bringing his body close enough that his expensive cologne clashed with my drugstore vanilla bath gel. A vision of stabbing him with the toothpick holding the olive in my drink floated through my mind, but I refrained.

“You don’t look like a Janet.” His smile suggested he thought that was a good line.

“Who do I look like?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” His finger slipped over the back of my hand as he leaned in. His breath blew across my ear. “What do youwant me to call you? And how will it sound when I whisper it in bed?”

Much closer and he’d be on my lap, and I would lose it on him. Forget timing and practice, this guy made me want to smash his face in. “You’ll know soon enough, Dr. Dougherty.”

“Call me Richmond.”

Asshole.

“I love a woman who goes after what she wants.” He took another peek down the deep V of my neckline. “I’m imagining how good you’ll look naked on white sheets.”

No way that line worked on any woman. He sounded like a serial killer.

“You don’t have to be somewhere, like the hospital?” Continuing thearen’t you that important doctor?ruse to stroke his ego would make the fall even harder. “Your time must be in huge demand.”

He laughed. “I can take a break to see what you’re hiding under that beautiful dress.”

That called for an eye roll but I held it in. “What if I saidnothing?”

“I think we should go somewhere and talk about that.” He trailed his fingers up my thigh and under the hem of my skirt. “You can show me.”

Yeah, time to wrap this up.

My hand covered his, stopping its upward climb. “Your wife won’t come after me, will she?”

He winked. “We have an understanding.”

Sure, they did. “Did you have an understanding when you were in high school?”

His body stilled before he pulled back. “What?”

“The school shooting. The stories about you being a hero.” I did the winking this time. “We both know that’s bullshit. Does your wife know and did she back then? You were high school sweethearts, so it’s a valid question.”

“What the hell is this?” His flirty tone and sly smile disappeared in a flash of anger. “I don’t know what you think—”

“Your tough guy posturing doesn’t impress me. It won’t scare me off.” I moved the drink to the side and out of spilling range since I planned on returning the expensive dress. “I know better.”

“Listen, you little bitch.” He bent forward, closing the distance between us until his body almost surrounded mine. His voice didn’t rise but his demeanor switched from inviting to threatening. Fury thrummed off him.

The bartender shot me a look of concern, but I shook my head before turning back to the hovering doctor and his intimidation tactics. “I thought you wanted to see me naked.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to.”

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