Ashley
Zach had a grimace on his face. It was pretty obvious the meeting put him in a bad mood. We settled down in the backseat of his car as we returned from the hectic meeting. He stared down at his phone the entire time, his thumbs tapping with a rhythmic intensity that seemed deliberately to ignore my presence.
The leather seats of his sleek Mercedes felt cold and uninviting. I shifted uncomfortably, watching the city blur past the window, acutely aware of the tense silence between us.
I studied his sharp, angular, and perpetually focus on the digital world rather than on me around him. His designer black suit, impeccably pressed, spoke of precision and control. I looked at my own reflection in the window which showed a more subdued image: neat green blazer, hair carefully pulled b
