The Mayor's Office.
Leo Wallace sat on a sofa in the reception area. On the coffee table before him was a bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers.
No documents, no maps, none of those headache-inducing reports.
Just whiskey.
"Sit."
Leo pointed to the seat opposite him.
Ethan sat down.
He looked at Leo.
The young Mayor looked even more exhausted than he was.
Leo was leaning back against the sofa, his tie already ripped off and tossed to the side.
His gaze was unfocused as he stared at the amber liquid swirling in his hand.
"Have a drink."
Leo pushed the other glass toward Ethan.
Ethan didn't refuse.
He picked up the glass and took a sip.
The sharp burn of the alcohol slid down his throat, starting a fire in his empty stomach.
"You've been exhausted lately, haven't you?"
Leo spoke, his voice a little hoarse.
"It's been fine," Ethan replied. "Compared to writing policy reports in Washington that nobody reads, at least it's fulfilling here."
