Page 2 of The Liar's Reckoning

Drugs are strictly out of the question. That’s my own line. The last thing I can afford is an expensive habit that has me losing focus. While this is a good paying job, I only do it once—maybe twice a week at most. My other two jobs take up the majority of my time, and I prefer the honest work tothis.This is strictly for the paycheck. I need all the money I can get, and in this town, there’s never enough.

Graham crosses the room to the table and pours two glasses of wine, handing one to me and keeping the other for himself. He gestures for me to sit, going so far as to pull out my chair. It’s a nice touch.

He takes the seat opposite, swallows a large gulp of wine, and lets out a long breath. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Congratulations.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not a real marriage. Do you know Avery Keene?”

“No,” I tell him.

“She used to work for the agency. I hired her about a year and half ago to go to a big charity event my family was throwing. She was a huge hit, and we got along, so I hired her to come to dinner with the family a few weeks later. Paid her to spend the night, in the guest room, of course, because my parents are really strict—and we ended up talking. Anyway, when I decided to run for office not too long after that, she was game to keep faking it for free when I told her I’d be willing to marry her to keep up appearances.”

I’m listening to this with the straightest face I can manage, but the story is borderline insane. Meanwhile, I’ve figured out who he is. He’s running for senate. Not the state senate, but the actual senate in DC. He’s a Republican, and his chances of winning in New York seem minimal, but I don’t really follow politics. I know nothing about who he’s running against, though, so I guess anything’s possible.

“I’m not straight,” he adds. “Never have been—never will be, which she knows. I just can’t be out. Ever. Does this sound crazy?”

I give him a slight nod.

“My family is Catholic. They own a media company—Catholic news, radio stations, literally all over the world. I actuallycan’tbe gay.”

“What do you do with the fact that you are?” I ask.

“Nothing, really. Not before…” he makes a vague gesture indicating me, his cheeks darkening.

My eyes narrow. “Never? No kissing? No hook-ups? Not even in high school?”

“Definitely not in high school. There was one kiss that got pretty heated in law school, but it was interrupted, and it never happened again.”

“Have you been with women?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I admit, this is fascinating. “How old are you?”

His flush deepens. “Thirty-three.”

“And you’re…”

“A virgin? Yes.”

I do my best to hide my shock. I’ve never come across anyone like him before. Not at his age. Or, frankly, with his looks. Sheltered is the word that immediately comes to mind. “Sorry,” I say. “None of my business.”

“It’s okay,” he rambles on. “If I can’t tell you, who can I tell?”

“I’m guessing no one?”

“My fiancée knows.”

I can’t help it. He’s got me curious. “Does she know where you are tonight?”

“No. I just mean she knows I’m not straight.”

I fight a frown as I take a sip of wine.

“What about you?” he asks.

“What about me?”

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