The night air was cool as the designated driver navigated the sedan through the quiet streets of Riverport, finally pulling up to the gates of the Little Red Pony Academy. Ethan Gray felt a familiar vibration against his thigh; his phone was buzzing with a new WeChat notification.
“Mister Gray, have you made it home? I wanted to express my deepest gratitude for today. If it weren't for your intervention, I surely would have been in a terrible state from the wine. Tomorrow is the weekend—might I interest you in a cup of tea?”
The sender was Yvonne Mayfield, the PR Director for Evergreen Entertainment. She had been the only woman at the dinner, and as the representative of the party offering the apology, she’d had to endure her fair share of toasts. She’d handled them well, but clearly, th
