I didn’t like Henry and trusted him less, but when he suggested we all go for Japanese, I figured it might go some way to getting along a little better with someone I had to work with every day. Hell, I even made a point of riding with him, through the twisty suburban streets, to what he claimed was one of his favourite restaurants: a bustling place with fast service and good food . . . so good, in fact, that when I asked him the next week for the address, rather than tell me, he said it had gone out of business.
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