kid looked up guiltily. He handed Darcy a flyer.
Buy one drink, get one free. Saturday, 8:00–9:00 p.m.
In other words, right now. A red haze blurred Darcy’s vision. This was a step too far. Give out discounts, fine, but how dare Wayne come into his pub and directly target his customers?
He took the youth by the upper arm and marched him to the door. “Don’t come in here with this shit again, you hear me? And you can tell your boss— Never mind. I’ll tell him myself.
“Kirsty, watch the bar.” He went through his office and pounded up the stairs to the apartment, calling, “Emma, are you awake? Where are you? I need you to take Billy.”
“In the kitchen.” She glanced up from her laptop and the books spread over the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Wayne, at the wine bar.” Jaw set, he reached around to unclick the straps of the baby carrier. His agitated fingers couldn’t find the right spot. “Bloody cheek of that guy, sending a kid into my pub with his two-for-one coupons. I saw people leave right after the boy came in but didn’t think anything of it.” He tried to look over his shoulder and spun in circles trying to see the latch on the carrier. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
“Let me get it. You’re too worked up.” Emma rose and released the straps. “You should cool off before you confront him. Nothing good ever comes from anger.”
Darcy pulled Billy free and passed him to Emma. “I disagree. It’ll be good giving that bastard a piece of my mind.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DARCY STEPPED OUT of the pub onto the sidewalk, and the cool night air bathed his heated cheeks. Emma was probably right. Yelling at Wayne like some hothead wasn’t smart or mature. Then again, he wasn’t trying to win friends and influence people, just save his pub.
He flung open the door to the wine bar and looked around. Yep, there was the couple who’d left his pub not twenty minutes ago, now toasting each other with their half-price drinks.
Wayne was pouring wine into elegant glasses, the ever-present toothpick rolling between his teeth. A waitress came through a door from the back bearing a tray loaded with small plates of hot snacks giving off delicious savory aromas. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that the chicken soup he’d had with Emma was hours ago and he hadn’t eaten since.
Wayne passed the wine to the waiter and looked up. A big smile wreathed his face. “Darcy. Glad you stopped by. What can I get you?”
Darcy flung the stack of discount flyers across the bar. “For a start, you can keep these out of my pub.”
The toothpick rolled to the other side of Wayne’s grin. “Hey, buddy, can’t you take a joke?”
“I can take a joke. What I won’t stand for is you poaching my customers right out from under my nose. Don’t you have any kind of business ethics?”
“Ethics?” Wayne snorted. “Mate, get your head out of the sand. It’s a big bad world out there. All’s fair.”
Darcy heard a snicker and turned to see a pair of women listening in on the conversation. The red fog descended and he spun back to Wayne. “All bets are off...mate.”
Wayne’s mouth turned down, letting the toothpick droop. “Are you threatening me?”
“You can take it however you want.” Darcy was past caring how his words were interpreted. His father hadn’t worked his butt off to build a pub only for some upstart from the city to sweep in and steal his customers. “My establishment has been in this town for sixty years. It will be here sixty more, long after your wine bar has turned into a juice bar. I will outlast you.”
Not waiting to hear another word from Wayne he strode across the street to the pub. Behind the bar, he stacked glasses and cleaned up, his movements angry and agitated.
“So, will you be meeting the wine bar dude at sunrise in the parking lot?” Tony asked.
“Ha, that’s right,” Darcy said. “Dueling cocktail shakers at twenty paces. Care to be my second?” Having it out with Wayne made him feel a tiny bit better, but the aggravation was eating away at him. He couldn’t wait until renovations were complete and the pub once again reigned supreme.
“Or how about a little graffiti, or a well-placed rock through that big plate-glass window...”
“Mate, you know better than that—” He caught sight of Tony’s smirk. “You had me going there for a moment.”
Revenge against the wine bar would