Chapter 117 The Shimmering Patron
"Who sent them?" Ashley asked, surprised.
"There's a card attached, but there's no name or contact information. Do you want to check it out, Ashley?" the receptionist asked.
Gossiping glances at the receptionist's desk could have written a sixteen-episode tele-drama, but Ashley didn't even ripple inside.
The bouquet was enormous, and likely had ninety-nine roses, a standard romantic gesture representing a particular sentiment, yet it met none of Ashley's expectations.
The card contained just one line, written by the florist, "The weather is nice."
Four simple words.
Outside, the sunlight shimmered like broken silver, coating the sycamore trees in a glossy sheen. The azure sky was dotted with a few white clouds. It wasn't quite summer in Rochester City yet; it was late spring, the time of year when the daylight was just right. Indeed, the weather was pleasant.
Ashley pondered who among her acquaintances followed this poetic and fresh approach, ruling out Amelia, Harold, and Hannah. The only ones left who knew her address seemed to be either Damian or Sean.
Well... she could rule out Damian too. With his style, even if he sent flowers, he wouldn't be so roundabout.
So then... Ashley flipped through her phone, found Sean's profile picture, and thought about messaging him to ask, but then decided against it.
If the sender wanted to remain anonymous, why should she chase after the curiosity? Although it didn't concern her much, she couldn't escape the rampant rumors at the law firm.
When Ashley stepped out to grab a coffee, she overheard a group whispering, "This morning Ashley had such a clash with Lavinia. It was epic!"
"They've been at odds for a while, and she was all like, 'Bring your A-game if you want to challenge me.' Haha, Ashley was so cool; if she didn't have to work with Lavinia, I’d applaud her!"
"Oh my gosh! Ashley received a huge bouquet of roses, perhaps from her boyfriend?"
"The receptionist said there was no name, it might be an admirer, I mean, Ashley is gorgeous!"
"Did you guys notice Ashley seems to have many stories? She's quite mysterious."
Some scoffed with disdain, "Ashley's manipulative and calculating. She nailed two major cases on KM Road; the previous one Harold fought for, but this time she got an international case. Heh, as if you sweet and naive ones could compete with her."
"There's also a rumor that Ashley has been in America for three years as a means of escape. Do you know Ashley's background? It doesn't seem too savory."
Hearing this, Ashley deliberately coughed.
The group scattered clumsily, greeting her with forced smiles, "Hey Ashley..."
After fetching her coffee and returning, she said coolly, "To land a big case, you should improve your skills instead. How does gossip help with litigation? If it does, I might join in."
The people chuckled nervously, "You're right, Ashley."
As she returned to her office, someone rolled their eyes, "What was that? She's not our Director, but she dares to lecture us on how to live."
Lavinia came up from behind with a grin, wrapping her arm around a girl's waist. "Wanna grab a smoothie? It's on me."
One of them said, "Sure, thanks, Lavinia. I'll take a tropical sunrise."
Another remarked, "Lavinia's always treating you guys to smoothies and sweets. And still, you go stick notes on Ashley's ice sculpture. Ungrateful much!"
Harold, making his way to his law firm, had also heard plenty of gossip. Some said Lavinia and Ashley were in a popularity contest, others claimed a wealthy guy had taken an interest in Ashley, and the rumors even went as far as to say Ashley was acting inappropriately, flirting left and right.
This made Harold's blood boil.
"Ashley, the little gossipers outside are talking nonsense. You're not upset, are you?"
Ashley, browsing through apartment listings on her phone, looked up nonchalantly, "Not worth my time."
She wasn't about to live by others' words.
Harold closed the door and looked at the glaring bouquet of roses, "And this?"
"Anonymous delivery. If you like them, they're yours," she stated, flatly.
"Look at you, so cold to your admirers. When will you ever get out of the single life? You should take a pic and post it on social media, show a bit of appreciation," he teased.
Harold brushed past the roses, taking in their scent, "Smells great, perfect for a lady's office."
Ashley held up her phone, "What do you think about this place?"
The topic shift caught Harold off guard, "Planning on how to spend your money already without winning the international case? Bold move. A place like that holds its value."
"I'm looking to rent it, going to see it at noon," she informed, nonchalantly.
Harold blinked, "What's wrong with staying at Henry Lee's place?"
"Unbearably awful," she answered.
Ashley gave him a 'don't ask because you wouldn't know' look that stopped Harold mid-sentence. He could only nod, trying to hide his curiosity, "The pictures look great, a one-bedroom, ideal for a single lady."
Ashley said, "Lend me two grand, I'll pay you back next month."
Harold was taken aback, "...How are you getting poorer?"
Once Ashley made up her mind, her efficiency kicked in. Looking for a place, signing the contract. And she had it all done over lunch.
The apartment was close to the law firm, a standard one-bedroom in a decent neighborhood. The agent said it was a couple's first home, but they split before even moving in.
Ashley chuckled to herself at the luck, feeling a sense of solidarity with the previous owners even in finding a rental.
After work, she dragged Harold to help her move.
As soon as he stepped in, Harold joked, "Have you been robbed or something??"
Ashley packed up her stuff, shoving everything into suitcases. The little things she had bought for Damian's place, anything that could be taken, she took, "Can your trunk fit a dresser?"
Harold looked horrified, "Do I look like I drive a moving van?"
Ashley chuckled at the thought, “And where are the parts? Scattered all over the floor.”
Harold, who at first thought to give it a try, glanced over and, seeing the pile of IKEA components, chuckled, “Listen, junior, we're not that desperate.”
Having lived there for only a couple of months, Ashely had acquired quite a few things. When it was time to leave, he packed his suitcase and two large bags to the brim, feeling a slight pang of nostalgia, “Let’s go.”
Harold expressed his sympathy, “Such a nice place—layout, floor, decors—you can’t rent it for less than twenty or thirty grand a month. Damian’s fleece—you don’t ever pass up a chance to shear that.”
Ashley patted him on the shoulder, “Senior, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.”
Compared to the spacious apartment of Henry Lee, the studio felt exceptionally cramped. Harold felt for her and blurted out, “Didn’t you take on Damian’s case? Technically, you’re still his tenant. Why are you moving out?”
Ashley, who was tidying up her belongings, asked Harold to help with the duvet cover. Each grasping two corners, they gave it a good shake, “After this ordeal, I’ve learned a lesson—business is business, but don’t let it spill into your personal life, or it'll all turn into a mess.”
The depths of a woman's mind was deeper than the ocean, a mystery Harold couldn’t fathom. He nodded half-comprehendingly, “All right, it's better to keep some distance.”
Bed made, Ashley went to clean the kitchen and handed Harold a dishcloth, “Sink's yours, the fridge is mine.”
Harold looked at the dishcloth in his hand and scratched his head in dismay, “You sure know how to boss someone around.”
As Ashley opened the fridge, her movements froze momentarily, recalling that Damian had made a similar remark once.
And, as fate would have it, Damian’s call came right when her emotions were stirring.
Harold, quicker on the draw, caught a glimpse of Damian’s name flashing on the screen, his eyes lighting up, “Hey, a call from the big spender.”
If it was about work, Harold was more suited to talk to Damian given their professional relationship. If it was personal, she had nothing to discuss with him. Ashley handed the phone over, “You answer it.”
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