Page 204 of The Liar's Reckoning

Did you block me again? I can still see your dot. I know you’re home.

Someone’s needy…

Me

I was sleeping. Someone keptme up all night.

Graham2

Weird. Me too. Can I still call you later?

Me

I’ll call you when I leave.

Graham2

If you leave and don’t call me, can I call you?

Stalker.

If someone asked me to explain what I love about Graham, or why I’m still in love with him after everything, I don’t know what the fuck I would tell them. The fact that we worked for as long as we did makes no sense.

Me

Down, boy.

Graham2

Enjoy your evening, Silas.

I grin in spite of myself and put down the phone to finish getting ready.

Now. What to wear to your billionaire boss’s penthouse for dinner with your estranged best friend? It’s vaguely tempting to wear my Eastmoor uniform—it’s technically a suit. I’ve sold most of my nicer suits and both tuxedos, so it’s going to have to be business casual. If they’re both in shorts and t-shirts, I’ll be annoyed.

I settle on a long-sleeved white button-down, loose-fitting khakis, and brown leather loafers with no socks. Just as I’m about to try and decide how I want to get uptown, subway or Lyft, Chris texts me that he’s sending a car.

I roll my eyes and wonder what Drew would think about that. I guess I need to make the rounds with him before I leave thestate for good, too. And yes, I’m still planning to leave. Whatever Graham and I are after last night—exes with benefits?—there’s no future there. I’d never ask him to change his life for me. Change that big for a maybe only leads to resentment. It might be harder to leave while I’m on good terms with him, but I’m telling myself it’s better to start a new life having ended the old one on a high note.

We’ll see how that works out.

The “car” is a limousine, and it looks wildly out of place on my street. I recognize the chauffeur as one of the doormen who used to work at the Eastmoor back when Drew did. “Killian, right?”

The shorter, muscular man smiles and shakes my hand. “How are you?”

“Good.” I point at the limo. “So, is this job better, or…?”

He laughs. “Depends on the day and the traffic, but between you and me, working for the boss in a personal capacity paysmuchbetter.”

“Can I sit up front with you?” I ask.

“Sure.” He opens the passenger door for me, and we head uptown.

By the time we reach Gramercy, I’ve learned a lot about living in Florida because it’s where Killian is from. I’m most interested in hurricane prep, so that takes up the majority of the ride. I feel much more knowledgeable as we’re getting out of the car, and I wave goodbye.

Though I’ve never seen the man before, the doorman on duty, like we all do, knows exactly who I am and exactly where I’m going. I don’t know how this guy does it, but I always stalk any guests my residents are expecting on social media. It really freaks out-of-towners out, and it’s one of the few simple pleasures of a relatively boring job.

He walks me to the special elevator himself. There’s anotherelevator next to it that leads to the other “penthouse:” Gibson’s elite sex club. Actually, I don’t know which is which, and this one better only be taking me to a normal apartment.

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