Page 169 of The Liar's Reckoning

“But I guess I could give her the bedroom here. I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Silas…”

I shake my head, hating the note of pity I’m hearing. “I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can at least manage to keep her in Florida.”I’m not at all sure about that.

“I want you to consider something. It’s gonna sound extreme, but sit with it a minute before you shoot it down and remember, you’ve got people on your side.”

I don’t like where this is going.

“I think you should sue.”

“No way.”

“Silas—”

“Sue who?”

“Avery Capshaw.”

My eyes widen, and I reach for the tequila.

“Hear me out.”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure I can. Avery’s not my enemy. She had nothing to do with any of this.”

“You lost two jobs when that video came out. You could sue for emotional distress, invasion of privacy, economic damages—shit, you could get your attorney’s fees recovered.” She ticks the items off, finger by finger.

“Someone’s been on Chat GPT.”

“Fuck you, I went to college. I was pre-law!”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And you have a case.”

“Avery wasn’t the one who released the video.”

“Avery was the reason there even was a video. Am I wrong aboutthat?”

I slug back a shot and sink deeper into the couch. “I don’t know. Marianne Hayes had her hands all over it.”

“Well, suing her would be practically impossible, but the Capshaws have plenty of money. And since Avery was the onedivorcing Graham, I don’t think it’s a huge stretch to hold her liable.”

At my dubious expression, she continues, “Look, I’m not suggesting you bankrupt her. I’m just saying with what the release of that video did to you, you’re entitled to compensation. It’s illegal what they did.”

I haven’t ever thought about it that way. Never even bothered to look it up. I mean—it certainlyshouldbe illegal. “How illegal?”

“It’s a criminal offense, Sy. But I’m talking about a civil suit. Those are way easier. And those get you the kind of money you need.”

I’m drunk enough at this point to consider it. “Know any good, cheap lawyers?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

52

GRAHAM

The evening doorman at Gramercy recognizes me immediately, and his reception is cool. “Good evening, Senator.” One look at his ears tells me he’s either a boxer or an MMA fighter. He’s built like a tank, and he’s almost impossibly handsome on top of that. I hate the way he’s looking at me, like I disgust him.

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