Page 15 of The Liar's Reckoning

“Why? What happened?”

“The movers took off after they unloaded the truck. Motherfuckers said they were done and pulled away from the curbbefore I could even call the couple who hired them. I’ve been on the phone for two hours looking for someone to come complete the move, but no one’s picking up.”

“Did you talk to the super?”

“All he offered was a hotel voucher—two hundred bucks. Can you believe that? I’m about to start calling my cousins. The lady is freaking the fuck out.”

I bet. “Can you stay another hour?” I ask him. “I can probably get some stuff moved up myself.” Raphael is more beauty than brawn, but if he can man the door, I don’t mind a little manual labor to kick off the shift.

“Yeah, no problem. Want me to call my cousin Santi?”

“Sure. If you think he’ll come.”

“We’ll have to pay him.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, opening the door to the loading area to see what all I’m dealing with. We’ve got a big dolly, so the boxes won’t be a problem, but for the two beds, the sectional and the enormous television, I’ll need help. “Tell him I’ll give him five hundred bucks if he can be here in thirty minutes. And I’ll take that voucher, too.”

“You’re a god, Silas.”

I take off my jacket and get to work loading boxes on the dolly. Raphael has the elevator open when I wheel into the vestibule and reminds me I’m headed to apartment 602.

When I get there, I find a tall, pretty, white woman with straight blond hair, a tear-stained face, and a huge glass of wine. “Are you—? Are those ours?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m Silas. I’m one of the night doormen. We’re gonna get this taken care of tonight.”

She bumrushes me into a stifling hug that smells of wine, sweat, and expensive perfume. “Thank you,” she sobs dramatically onto my shoulder. “This has been the worst day of my life.”

Wow. Some life she must have if this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. I’ve seen my share of moving traumathrough the years, and I get it’s stressful, especially in Manhattan, but let’s be real. All her shit made it to the building as far as I know. She’s had to wait a few more hours than she thought. I don’t roll my eyes, though, as I gently pat her on the back to ease out of the hug.

She wipes a fresh stream of tears from her cheeks and sniffs loudly. “You work here?”

“Yes. Where would you like these?”

“Anywhere—anywhere is fine. Thank you so much.”

I wheel the dolly to the living area and slide the boxes free. “We should have the beds and sofa up soon. We found a mover who can help,” I lie, or more like manifest.

“I can’t believe those people. Is it always like this here?”

“You’re not from New York?” I ask.

“No. Maryland.”

“It’s notalways, but you have to do your research with moving companies. Lots of scammers out there.” I stop short of telling her she’s lucky they didn’t hold her household goods for ransom because I’ve seen that happen, too. These fuckers were just lazy.

She looks into my eyes and solemnly says, “I am never moving again.”

I give her a smile I hope is reassuring. “I’ll bring up the next load.”

“I’m Avery,” she says, holding out her hand.

Normally, I’d already know this, but I’ve been off for four days and overly pre-occupied with my mom. I take her hand and give it a shake. “Welcome to Hanover Gardens.”

6

GRAHAM

My father has never been so proud to show me off. He even complimented my hair before the party. “This is my son, Senator-elect Lawther,” he tells the Seventh Circuit judge as we move through the ballroom. “His wife, Avery.”

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