Page 110 of The Liar's Reckoning

Her eyes light up, meeting mine. “Have you been?”

“Sure. My mom loves ballet.”

“Oh my God, Graham, can we? There’s so many famous people who go to that. It’s just as good as the Met.”

“Minus the intense fashion pressure,” I say.

“Please, please,please?”

She could ask me for my liver, and I’d carve it out myself to make her feel better. “Sure. It shouldn’t be a problem. Mother’s probably already bought a table.”

Avery squeals with excitement, gets up from her stool, and grabs her phone. “I need to go shopping. It’ssoon.”

It’s next week. “Let me make sure there’s room at the table first.”

“I’ll call her. She’ll take me shopping. Oh my God. I cannot wait. This is—it’sperfect. You have no idea how much I need this,” she gushes.

I know exactly how much she needs it because I need it for her, too. I’m proud of myself for finding something she can look forward to. My father suggested taking her on a vacation. I’d had to work not to actively cringe at the thought. Lucky for me, it’s gala season. If wearing a tux and walking her through crowds of socialites and celebrities makes her feel better, we’ll do that.

Today is Sunday, and I’ll be in DC most of the week for a controversial judiciary hearing for a federal appointment in Florida. Margin-wise, he’ll be appointed, but the Democrats will want to have their way with him first. It’s one of those easier votes for me where it won’t really count. This guy would probably be Silas’s worst nightmare, but he’ll be in Florida, and he’s already got the votes.

I’ve noticed Silas doesn’t pay much attention to politics. I’m not sure whether it’s on purpose because I’m so involved, or if it’s not an interest of his. Either way, I can’t fault him for it. It’sboring on a good day and messy on a bad one. It all fascinates me, but I’m trying to keep a low profile while I feel things out. Between the whisper network, the press corps, and the other members of congress, it’s a lot to navigate. I’m a quick study, but I’ve yet to find it anything less than daunting.

I text Silas once Avery’s left the kitchen.

Me

Where are you?

Silas

My apartment. There’s some shit going down. I’ll text you in a little bit.

Me

Are you ok?

Silas

Fine. Ily.

The response is terse coming from him. Also—hisapartment wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. I want to see him before I leave tonight.

I toss Avery’s yogurt, knowing she won’t be back for it. Emails are waiting for me, so I head into the home office to see what I can take care of while I wait for Silas’s shit to finish “going down.”

I don’t have to wait long. An hour maybe. Twenty-three emails.

Silas

Can you talk?

I call him, and he picks up right away. It sounds like he’s outside. Wind and traffic make up his background noise. “Everything okay?” I ask.

“Not really. I mentioned I was thinking of moving out, and everybody freaked.”

“I thought you said the timing was good.”

“Well, I knew once Eric left, Drew was gonna have a hell of a time making rent, and I thought it’d come up sooner—getting a new place, but it turns outIhad to start the conversation, and it didn’t go over well.” He says this last part with a bitter bite then adds, “You don’t have a lot of fans in the East Village, Senator.”

---