Page 18 of Fangs and Fudge

“Condos?” he questioned.

“Like an apartment, but you own it,” I said.

While Vena scrolled through her phone, tsking and muttering under her breath about steak, I wondered what kind of place would suit Cross. He seemed like a private kind of guy who wouldn’t appreciate a condo or apartment next to a bunch of people. And a house seemed too domestic for him.

“Cross, is there anything you want to do with your time? Hobbies? A business? It might help us narrow down the search.”

“There are a few things I’d like to do with my time,” he said with the barest of smirks aimed directly at me. Heat sizzled down to my toes. “But, no. There is nothing in this new world that holds my attention except for a fleeting curiosity.”

“What did you use to do before?”

He smirked again, and I had a feeling it was nothing that I wanted to know about.

“I did own one thing that nearly made my unlimited time bearable,” he said.

“What was it?”

“A gentleman’s club.”

Vena glanced up. “Is that code for strip club? You know…with naked female entertainers?”

Cross shook his head. “No, it was for drinks, smoking, and gambling. A club member could acquire a room to sleep, if he should want, and an occasional courtesan might accompany the gentleman to the room for a shared evening.”

“Prostitution isn’t legal in D.C.,” Vena said.

“I have no interest in prostitutes or courtesans,” he said. “I’m merely answering Everly’s question. I used to distract myself from the endless passage of time with the discreet management of a gentleman’s club.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

His gaze held mine as he answered. “Sixteen ninety-three.”

Vena swore under her breath and, forgetting her phone, leaned in to ask, “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

She snorted and returned to her phone search.

“There are a number of condos in the downtown area, but I’m not sure you’ll like having neighbors paying attention to when you’re coming and going. And whatever company you keep. What’s your budget?”

He glanced at me, and I shook my head slightly. “I have no idea what you want to spend.”

“I’ll pay whatever is necessary to secure a permanent residence near here but with fewer neighbors interested in my business.”

Vena tapped her fingers on the table. “We’ll come up with something. I’ll broaden my search under the assumption that you don’t mind parting with another coin.”

He nodded, and the waiter arrived with the first course. Vena stared at Cross as he lifted his spoon to try the soup he’d ordered.

“I didn’t think you’d actually eat it,” she said.

“Like sleep, it’s unnecessary. However, sitting and watching my dining companion eat would have made her uncomfortable. Are you enjoying the salad, Everly? Would you prefer my soup?”

I wasn’t sure if he was asking to get rid of the soup or because he felt bad I’d only ordered the salad. Either way, if he was willing to part with it, I was willing to eat it. I quickly nodded and almost moaned at the decadence of the French onion soup.

While we ate, he asked questions about dining out, favorite spots, what made them our favorites, and when most people dined. It was a relaxing conversation that didn’t seem overly vampire-y, just curious.

Cross offered me his plate when the main course arrived. Like Vena, he’d ordered a steak. I accepted half, which had Vena smirking.

“Don’t let her fool you, Cross. She’s not just saving you money. She’s saving room for dessert. You’ve seen how she is. She craves sugar as much as you crave–”

---