Since he had a corner apartment, his windows were bigger and lined not only the back of the apartment, but the entire outer wall as well. I could see that his patio was also bigger and wrapped around both sides of the building, and he had a bistro set that was currently wet from some rain we’d had earlier in the day.
His kitchen was larger and had nicer cupboards and appliances, and there was a large dedicated dining area—not to mention, unlike my cramped entertainment space that barely had room for my TV and couch, his living room area was light and airy with lots of room since his apartment was much wider.
There was a darkened, full-sized bathroom right by the doorway where I stood, and three wooden doors—all of them closed—lined the other wall.
Does he have three bedrooms? I didn’t know this building even had three-bedroom apartments!
“Wow,” I said. “You have a really nice place.”
“You sound surprised.” Connor took a seat at his fancy table and adjusted the thin, sleek laptop he must have been working on before I interrupted him.
“I am,” I said. “I didn’t know the building had such a great apartment.”
Connor looked up from the laptop’s screen. “I had some minor remodeling done before I moved in.”
“Yeah.” I took extra care to hold my coffee mug without jostling it when I walked across the expensive Turkish carpet rolled out over the apartment’s cheap carpet. “I can see that.” I paused by the cluster of comfortable furniture angled to take advantage of the view given by the apartment’s many windows. “Is it okay if I actually sit on any of this?”
Connor sat with his back to the wall, so he could watch me without having to turn. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because one furniture piece looks like it costs what I make in a month,” I said.
“They’re for sitting in.”
“Are you sure about that? They look… decorative.” I stared at the leather couches and armchairs—at least they were modern and didn’t look like antiques.
Connor’s smirk was back. “Sit.”
I reluctantly chose one of the leather armchairs and sat, my shoulders stiffening when I sank deeper into the chair than expected.
I took a gulp of my coffee, which nearly scalded my mouth, but it was too close to being overfull and I didn’t want to spill on Connor’s stuff, especially on my first visit.
“Did you bring a book?” Connor asked.
I held it up for inspection.
“Why did you bring a book when you’re here for coffee?” Connor asked.
I took another noisy sip of my coffee. “I thought you’d be busy with work, so I’d need something to do.”
“It’s not work,” Connor said. “It’s my soul-sucking, hatred-inspiring reason for existence. And if you brought over something to do, what’s the point of being here?”
“Companionship,” I said. “My apartment seemed extra quiet today.”
Which was true, but I had also been hoping that hanging out with Connor would help me shake off the nagging feeling that there was something off about the library fire and the House Tellier wizards. The idea had plagued me all night, and while I wasn’t giving up that line of thinking, I’d have to wait until muster tonight to find out what the Curia Cloisters thought of the issue. Connor was my distraction in the meantime.
“I see. In that case, I’m delighted you wished to come see me.” Connor looked even more satisfied with himself than usual as he swirled his wineglass of blood. Since he wasn’t looking at his laptop, I judged that I had enough time to ask a follow up question.
“So… you don’t work?”
“That’s what you took out of all of that? Not that I have a soul-sucking problem, but that I don’t have a job?” Connor asked.
“You’re a vampire,” I pointed out. “You have a natural flair for drama. If it was really that bad you wouldn’t have said that. You don’t work?”
“I’m a vampire,” Connor quoted back at me.
“You don’t magically become independently wealthy as soon as you’re turned.” I nestled down in the leather chair, which loudly squeaked whenever I moved.
“I’ve had time,” Connor said.
“How much time?” I naturally asked, then jostled my mug when I realized how pushy the question was. “Sorry—you don’t have to share.” The professional in me pushed to know more about Connor, but he was a friend—something rare and incredibly valuable for me. I wasn’t about to let my sense of professionalism push me into stepping over his personal boundaries.
Connor smirked as he set his wineglass down on the table. “Time enough so that I don’t have to work.”
That seemed about right.
I took another sip of my coffee and struggled to open my book with one hand without losing my bookmark’s spot.
Connor watched me for a moment, amused. His smile fell away when he looked back at his laptop, and he furrowed his brows in concentration.
Even if he doesn’t work in the traditional sense of the meaning, whatever it is that he’s going over must be important to him. I wonder what his background is that he can afford to live alone and isn’t worried about money…what Family is he from?
I’d asked him before, and he’d cut me off. Clearly his vampire origin wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—not that I blamed him. As an unclaimed—a vampire who had no Family—he’d likely experienced something traumatic to make him choose such a dangerous life.
The best thing I can do is respect his boundaries and wait for him to feel comfortable enough to eventually tell me. I value our friendship too much for anything else.
I studied him for another second while I sipped my coffee before I settled down and read my book. Soon the only noises in the apartment were the clicking sounds from Connor using the keyboard and wireless mouse, the occasional shuffle when I turned a page, and the consistent tick-tock from the old-fashioned grandfather clock pushed against the far wall.
Time passed—the bright light cast by afternoon sun turned into a subdued gold color and I finished my coffee while Connor downed the last of his blood drink. When I checked my phone, I saw an hour had passed.
Connor pushed his laptop screen down, shutting it, with a single finger.
“All done?” I stretched—flexing my limbs before I muffled a yawn.
“For now. Do you have to leave for work?” He stood up and sauntered over to me, coming to a stop behind my chair.
“Not yet—I’ve got well over an hour before I need to leave.” I put my bookmark in place, then shut my book and peered up at him. “Unless I’m in your way? I can head out.”
Connor, gazing at his windows, shook his head. “You’re fine.” When he lowered his gaze to me his eyes seemed darker than usual. “But it is downright hilarious you’re so comfortable in my apartment.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked.
He rested his forearms on the back of my seat and a low laugh I could feel through the chair escaped from his chest “No reason.” He slid his right hand down the side of my armchair, then reached out and coiled one of my short, red curls around his index finger, winding it just above the gold ring he frequently wore.