Chapter 55
POV: Damian Knight
Oliver chose the worst possible place to stage an intervention.
My motel room.
He stood in the doorway wearing sunglasses that probably cost more than the motel's monthly electric bill. Behind him, a luxury sports car looked hilariously out of place beside rusty pickup trucks.
The receptionist leaned out of her office.
"Is he famous?"
"I wish he wasn't," I muttered.
Oliver walked inside, stopped in the middle of the room, and slowly looked around.
"The lamp still leans."
"It has commitment."
"The curtains don't close all the way."
"They believe in transparency."
He pointed at the tiny refrigerator.
"Is that humming?"
"I think it's singing."
He stared at me for three long seconds.
"You've changed."
"I've gotten better at lowering expectations.
