"Holy crap. What is that?" The car jostles over a pothole and I twist in my seat to get a better view of the massive moving truck parked in front of our townhouse. It wider than my home. When Vincent said the movers would be here tonight, I didn't realize he planned to hire a semi-truck. How much stuff does he think we own?
"That's your moving truck," Davis says, looking in the rearview mirror like I'm a moron.
I sigh and rub a hand over my temple, worried about the headache that started around three o'clock today when Vincent made me hand edit a report that came from accounting. And then he made me do it again since I didn't use a red pen the first time. "I know it's a moving truck, but for whom? Does he plan to move the whole complex?"
Davis stops the town car and as usual I get out o
