Black Diamond (Obsidian 2)

1

Rome

Living with Christopher wasn’t quite as strange as I expected.

The apartment was big enough that we didn’t need to share much space. He had the master bedroom with his own bathroom and shower. I used the guest bathroom near the living room, so we didn’t get in each other’s way in the morning before work. Neither one of us ate much, so sharing food wasn’t a problem either. We went to the grocery store once a week and purchased the bare essentials, but dirty dishes never piled up in the sink because neither one of us used them.

Of course, Christopher brought women back to the apartment often. When they first looked at me, they despised me, viewing me as a threat. But once Christopher explained I was his poor sister who needed to shack up with him, they actually cracked a smile.

But other than that, everything was fine.

I didn’t need a driver to take me to work because my office was just two blocks away. Calloway didn’t mind my walking there, especially since Christopher had to head that direction anyway. So I had someone to keep me company on the short journey.

I came home after work one afternoon to find Christopher on the couch, placing a cold beer on a coaster. He was still in his collared shirt and tie, his jacket hanging over the back of the couch. “Hey.”

“Yo.” He didn’t take his eyes off the TV. “How are the stinky homeless people?”

I set my purse on the counter and pulled out my phone. “Christopher, don’t call them that.”

“What?” he asked. “It’s not like it’s untrue.”

“But even so.”

“We were stinky homeless people once upon a time.” He continued to stare at the screen even though he didn’t seem truly interested in it.

I dropped the conversation because it was pointless anyway. “How was work?”

“Good. Stocks are high. I’m doing a lot of selling.”

I’d never cared for his profession or tried to understand it. It was far too mathematical and unpredictable for me to truly care about. I’d always been interested in the behaviors of people and society, not making money.

I grabbed the mail sitting on the counter and rifled through it, not seeing anything for me. I’d changed my mailing address to this apartment so I didn’t have to head to my post office box all the time. If Hank really wanted to bother me, he could come here. My bat would love to say hello.

I slipped off my heels and fell into the armchair, my feet finally relaxing after a long day of walking around my office.

“How’s Prince Charming?”

“I don’t know who you’re referring to.” I eyed the TV, seeing a cartoon. Christopher was a grown man who was successful and intelligent, but he still acted like a child. Since neither one of us had really had a childhood, I didn’t give him shit for it.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you do.”

“You mean my sexy boyfriend?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Good. He’s glad I moved in here with you.”

“I bet,” he said with a chuckle. “That way I can make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“I never do stupid things,” I countered.

“You fought a thug who broke into your apartment, busted your lip, and bruised your face.” He turned his eyes to me, giving me a glare. “Yes, you do stupid stuff.”

Calloway and Christopher would throw that in my face forever. “Okay, that’s the one stupid thing that I’ve done.”

“Ro, I have a list. But I don’t have the energy to go through the whole thing. So, are you going to his place for dinner?”

I picked up on his train of thought. “Trying to get rid of me because you have a hot date coming over?”

“I wouldn’t call her a hot date. Just a fuck buddy that’s in town for a business meeting.”

Christopher usually gave me a heads-up when he needed to be alone in the apartment, and I appreciated the notification so I could find something else to do. I definitely didn’t want to be here for their hump-a-thon. “I’ll go to Calloway’s place.”

“Perfect.”

As if he knew we were talking about him, Calloway called.

“Ooh,” Christopher said. “It’s Prince Charming…”

I ignored the nickname and took the call. “Hey, sexy.”

Christopher cringed then walked into his bedroom on the other side of the apartment, not wanting to listen to this conversation.

Deep and powerful, Calloway’s masculine voice came through the phone. “Hey, Vanilla.”

I’d become used to the nickname even though I didn’t really feel vanilla anymore. “Are you free tonight? I need to get out of the apartment because Christopher is having company—the slutty kind.”

“You know you’re always welcome here.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“A big yes.” Whenever he spoke to me, he always had very little to say, and he always got to the point. He seemed to issue commands more often than participate in a fluid conversation. “So, get over here.”