“I wish.” Ashley sighed as she reopened the file. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Bonnie pulled out her bag from under her desk. “Okay. I’ll tell security you’re still here. Don’t stay too late.”
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome. Bye.”
After Bonnie left, Ashley kept typing. Most of the socialites were the wives, children, or grandchildren of billionaires. Even though they had the pick of what they could do with their lives, they somehow seemed lost. Making a career out of attending luncheons, galas, and concerts wasn’t her idea of fun, but what she thought didn’t matter.
She found stock photos of each person and added them to the article. If she was totally honest with herself, the photos were more interesting than her text. As long as her editor didn’t think the same thing she’d be okay.
Before she went home, Ashley checked her emails. Harry had been busy. He’d sent through more photos from last weekend’s dinner party. She flicked through the images. They weren’t bad considering the camera she’d used had been hidden in her necklace.
She stopped at a picture of Jasmine Alfredo. With her jet-black hair coiled on top of her head and a scarlet dress draped across her body, she was stunning. But it wasn’t Jasmine who made Ashley frown.
A man wearing a navy pinstripe suit stood on one side of the picture, almost lost in the cropped image.
Ashley went back to the other photos. He wasn’t there. She opened another file, this time from Jasmine’s charity gala for The Reaching High Foundation, another nonprofit she managed. The same man was there. She’d seen his face before, but where?
If anyone knew who he was, it would be Harry. She picked up her phone and called him.
He answered after the second ring. “You didn’t give me much to work with, so no grumbling about the quality.”
Ashley smiled. “I thought you’d be watchingThe Twilight Zone.”
“I am, but you’re lucky. An ad break has started. What do you need?”
“One of the photos you sent through has a man almost cropped out of the image. Can you send me the original and tell me who he is?”
She heard Harry moving across his apartment.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asked.
“I’m leaving soon.”
Harry laughed. “That’s what you always say…Okay…I’m at my computer. What photo are you talking about?”
“The one with Jasmine standing on her own. She’s holding a glass of wine.”
“Got it. I’m sending through the original now.”
Ashley reopened her email account and waited for Harry’s photo to arrive. “What season are you up to inThe Twilight Zone?”
“Two. I’m sending you the rest of the images I downloaded off the camera. I haven’t retouched them yet, but it will give you an idea of what it takes to make them brilliant.”
“You’re just showing off.” She clicked on the first email Harry sent through and studied the man. “I still don’t know who he is.”
“Have you been living under a rock for the last six months?”
“Come on, Harry. Don’t hold out on me. You’re going to miss some of your TV show.”
“The Twilight Zoneis not a TV show. It’s a cult classic.”
“So isThe Princess BrideandThe Rocky Horror Picture Show, but you’re not watching them.”
She could imagine Harry shuddering. The thought of his beloved television series being compared to a movie abouta princess would be too much. “Your small town background is showing. The man in the picture is Gareth Welsh.”
“Congressman Gareth Welsh?”
