Ashley made his graceful exit from the gala after midnight, and even then, Keith shot him a disapproving look. Ashley didn’t care. After a night of bullshitting clients and sweet-talking their wives, he just wanted a stiff drink. Or two. He loved his job, and he knew he did it well, but he had never enjoyed all the extracurricular activities—the parties, the dinners, the afternoon drinks, the golfing. God, the golfing.
Now safe in his apartment, Ashley loosened his tie and poured a whiskey, watching the subtle interplay of light against the glass and amber liquid. Of course, the party hadn’t been all bad. For a few seconds, buried in the thousands of minutes of drudgery, his smile had been genuine. Who would have thought that he’d find an actual person at the firm’s big event? Somebody wi
