Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Liam

M oving day was finally here, and I’d somehow talked my parents into helping me lug all my stuff from home. They were already skeptical about me leaving Boston in the first place—hell, they’d probably put up a bigger fight if they hadn’t been so convinced I’d come running back to the family pub in a few months. That, or they just didn’t think I’d last long in New York. Either way, their disapproval was pretty much a given at this point.

As I unlocked the door to the new apartment and swung it open, the silence that fell over them was almost worth the entire headache of the move. My dad stopped in his tracks, his mouth slightly open as he took in the gleaming hardwood floors, the massive windows, and the panoramic city view. My mom’s lips pressed together in a straight line, but I could tell she was impressed, too, her eyes darting around the place like she was trying to spot the first thing to criticize.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice a little less sharp than usual. “You really are making a go of it here, aren’t you, Liam?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s not bad, right? Close to the office, decent commute…”

My dad just shook his head in wonder, letting out a low whistle. “Your old man wouldn’t mind living in a place like this,” he said, slapping me on the back. “You must be doin’ alright if you can afford a place like this in New York.”

“Yeah, well… it’s a steal,” I blurted. No need to mention how I was stretching my paycheck thin to cover it. “And I’m splitting it with Jack and Bradley, so it’s not all on me.”

Just then, the front door swung open, and Jack walked in with his dad, Mr. Barrett. They each had a stack of boxes balanced in their arms, and Jack gave me a quick grin before glancing over at my parents. His dad, who’d driven all the way up from Richmond in a U-Haul packed to the brim, set down the boxes and wiped his brow, his eyes twinkling as he looked around the apartment.

“This is the kind of place you see in magazines,” he said, nodding approvingly. “You boys done good.”

Jack’s face lit up with pride, and it was kind of nice to see that look on him. I’d only met his dad a few times, but it was clear the guy couldn’t be prouder of his son. Meanwhile, Bradley’s bedroom door creaked open, and he strolled out, already in a crisp button-down and slacks, as if he were just waiting for the next big moment. He glanced around at all of us, gave my parents and Mr. Barrett a quick nod, and muttered something about an important appointment.

“Good to meet everyone,” he said, though his eyes didn’t linger on anyone for too long. “But I’ve gotta run. Don’t do anything too crazy while I’m gone.” And with that, he slipped out the door, practically evaporating like he’d never been there.

My dad rolled his eyes. “What’s his deal?”

“Oh, he’s just… Bradley,” I said, shrugging. “He’s…”

Just as I was about to change the subject, the door swung open again, and in walked Vanessa, larger than life, with a bottle of wine cradled in her arms and a grin on her face. “Housewarming gift!” she announced, holding up the bottle of Chablis like she’d won the lottery. “Figured you boys could use a little celebratory drink for your fancy new digs.”

“Hey, Vanessa,” I said, grinning as she sauntered over. But then she caught sight of Jack’s dad, and her expression shifted to something… well, let’s just say “hungry” might be the best word.

Mr. Barrett, a classic Virginia gentleman, went completely rigid, his eyes widening as Vanessa strolled right up to him, her eyes glinting with interest.

“Well, hello there,” she purred, offering him her hand with a sly smile. “And who might you be?”

Jack, standing behind his dad, looked like he was trying not to laugh, while Mr. Barrett’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. He cleared his throat, fumbling to take her hand. “Uh, David Barrett, ma’am. Jack’s father.”

“Well, Mr. Barrett,” she said, her voice like velvet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. If you’re ever in the neighborhood, you’ll have to let me know. I’d be more than happy to… show you around.” She batted her eyelashes, and I was pretty sure poor Mr. Barrett was going to combust on the spot.

Then her gaze shifted to my parents, and the sparkle in her eye dimmed when she noticed my mom. She’d stepped right in front of my dad, arms crossed over her chest, with a look on her face that could’ve melted steel. She’d seen Vanessa’s type before and wasn’t buying a word of it.

Vanessa, undeterred, gave my mom a quick, sweet smile and a wave of her manicured fingers. “Oh, you must be Liam’s parents. Lovely to meet you both. I’m Vanessa, the building manager. We’re just so excited to have your son and his friends moving in here.”

My mom just raised an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

Vanessa’s smile faltered a little, but she recovered quickly, blowing a dramatic kiss at all of us boys. “Alright, I’ll leave you all to it, then. I’ve got an entire building to run, but don’t you hesitate to call if you need anything.” She gave one last wink to Mr. Barrett, who looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe, and then turned on her heel and strutted out of the apartment, hips swaying, perfume lingering long after she’d gone.

The moment the door shut, Jack let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Dad, I’ve never seen you look that flustered.”

Mr. Barrett, still red, scratched the back of his head. “I, uh… wasn’t expecting to meet a woman like that today.”

My mom snorted, muttering under her breath as she started unpacking the boxes. “She’d better keep her hands to herself if she knows what’s good for her.”

After the parents left, our place felt both bigger and somehow emptier. Jack and I were in the living room, knee-deep in boxes of books. The built-in shelves near the window had this whole “private library” vibe, and I was eager to fill it up, though Jack’s collection of sci-fi novels was threatening to take over.

“Fantasy on this shelf, sci-fi on that one,” Jack instructed, tossing a hardcover in my direction. I caught it just before it hit the floor.

“Starting to regret bunking up with a control freak,” I muttered, but I was grinning.

He just rolled his eyes, busying himself with lining up a row of Asimov novels. We were getting into a pleasant rhythm, the apartment quiet except for the sound of shuffling books and the occasional clink of an empty box hitting the wall. Then suddenly, this loud, buzzing sound echoed through the room, jolting both of us.

Jack froze, looking around like he was trying to place it. “What the hell was that?”

Before I could answer, it buzzed again. “Oh,” Jack said, a lightbulb going off. “It must be the doorman.”

He got up, brushing off his hands, and walked over to this little intercom box on the wall near the front door. He pressed a yellow button, and a second later, Dimitri’s deep voice crackled through, sounding as unimpressed as ever. “There is a woman here for Mr. Wellington. Should I send her up?”

I heard footsteps behind me, and Bradley stepped out of his bedroom, looking annoyed. He gave Jack a single nod.

“Uh… yeah, send her up,” Jack said, letting go of the button.

A minute passed in silence. We went back to unpacking, and just when I’d almost forgotten about it, there was a sharp knock at the door.

I got up and opened it, and for a second, I just stood there blinking. The person standing in front of me was… well, stunning. Tall, impossibly well-dressed, with sleek black hair that looked like it belonged in some kind of magazine ad. She had this cool, detached expression, like she walked through luxury apartment doors every day and didn’t expect to be fazed by anything.

She barely glanced at me before her gaze locked onto Bradley, who was standing next to me with his arms crossed, looking less than thrilled. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash—yes, an actual wad of bills—and held it up.

Bradley’s jaw tightened. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice flat. He jerked his head toward his bedroom, and the woman followed without a word.

I glanced over at Jack, eyebrows raised, but he just shrugged, looking as bewildered as I felt. A minute or two passed, and then the woman came back out, her expression just as blank as before. She didn’t say anything—just walked right past us, opened the door, and disappeared down the hallway like it was any other Tuesday.

Once she was gone, Jack looked over at me, his lips quirking up into a half-smile. “So… that’s not weird or anything.”

I let out a low whistle, shaking my head. “Guess Bradley’s full of surprises.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, or secrets.”

Bradley came back out a moment later, his face set in that same, unreadable expression he always wore when he was trying to pretend he was above everything. He didn’t even look at us as he walked across the living room, heading straight for the front door like he had somewhere urgent to be.

Just as he wrapped his hand around the knob, I couldn’t help myself. “Hey, Bradley—who was the ice queen?”

He paused, his back to us. For a second, I thought he might actually turn around and explain, give us some kind of story, maybe even a laugh. Instead, he muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like, “She’s a friend.”

And then, just like that, he slipped out the door without another word.

I looked over at Jack, and he looked back at me, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. We stared at each other for a long beat, both of us too stunned to speak. The sounds of the city drifted up from the open window, cars honking, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings. Inside, though, it was dead quiet.

Finally, I cleared my throat and gave Jack a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “So… how well do we really know Bradley?”