After Lana left with the leaked photos, Asher moved from the booth to the bar to throttle his budding anxiety with a cocktail or five. As he drank, the patronage of the downtown establishment, scant to begin with, shrank until he and the bartender were the only occupants in the dimly lit space. With his forehead in his hands, he slouched forward, staring at the muddled mint leaves floating in the last half of his mojito.

“You okay, hun?”

Asher looked up at the bartender. He co...