Story Sentence:
He never does.
Story:
"Hello, dear. May I join you?" Margaux Digby sat without waiting for a response. "My, aren't you the lovely one. I can see why he is so fond of you..."
"Excuse me, do we know each other?" asked a perplexed Candace Jones
"No, Candace, or would you prefer that I call you, Candy?" Margaux studied Ms. Jones closely. She was searching for a sign, any sign that she was disingenuous, or predatory. She observed none. That wasn't always the case. "But we share something in common." Margaux sighed. She was receiving no pleasure from what needed to be done here. "We are both sleeping with my husband, Orly Digby."
Twenty-four-year-old Candace Jones paled considerably. Tears started to form in her deep chocolate brown eyes. "I-I-I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about..."
"Please, don't insult my intelligence, Candy. Don't worry, I'm not here to make a scene, or threaten you in any way. I just want to talk with you."
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I mean I wasn't trying to..." Candace couldn't finish her sentence. She burst out crying. She started to get up, but Margaux had deftly slid her chair next to Candy's and held the crying young woman in her arms.
"Shhh, it's okay, dear." Margaux patted Candy gently on her shoulder. There's no need for tears, now." Margaux glanced around the room in the crowded lunch time bistro. "It's all right, folks. She just received some bad news. Why are you so attracted to him, dear?"
"He seemed so nice. He listens to me. He makes me feel, important, like what I do and say is valuable, I guess." Margaux just nodded her head knowingly. "Were all those nice things he said to me, lies?"
"No, honey. He meant every word. I'm sure he was very smitten with you..."