He idly held a glass of champagne. He hated these sorts of functions; they were a waste of time. He’d been obligated to attend this Christmas party, but he held out little hope of enjoying it. To complicate matters, Sheila couldn’t attend with him. She, at least, would’ve made the evening tolerable. Hoping he wasn’t being too obvious, Thorne glanced at his gold watch and wondered if anyone would notice if he slipped away.“Prince, old boy, good to see you.” Rutherford Hayden stepped toward him and slapped him on the back.Thorne’s response was a grim smile. He had no use for the man who was trying to ingratiate himself by means other than job skills and performance.“Fine party.”“Yes.” If he hoped to engage Thorne in long-winded conversation, he was going to be disappointed.A moment of awkward silence passed during which Thorne did nothing to ease the tension. Rutherford paused and cleared his throat. “I’ve been giving some thought to your suggestion regarding the Hughes account, and I—”“It was an order, not a suggestion.”
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