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I knew that Dante Street Massacre was a band that had done well for itself, but I hadn’t known how well until just now.
It was simply jaw dropping.
“It’s not all from the music,” Adam said casually, as if reading my mind. “I’ve also got some investments I’ve made from my royalty money that are paying some serious dividends. Mostly biscuits, chocolate and audiobooks. I had some shares in Google back in the day, but decided they weren’t worth the ethical constipation.”
I tried to imagine such a thing but found it beyond my reach. My only investment was in Forever postage stamps— I was hedging that the price of stamps would keep going up, and so far, I had been proven right. I clearly didn’t understand much about the stock market. I did understand why Adam would want to participate in it, though, particularly with the kind of money he made.
“It’s not about the money,” he said. “Not entirely. The money is nice, but it’s more about the skill of the chase and rapture of the win. I guess I see things differently than a lot of people. Where most people see a mousetrap, I see free cheese and a challenge, metaphorically speaking, anyway.”
His candor was surprising if not unwelcome. He hadn’t said much of anything in the car on the way out, nor in the meeting room, for that matter. Aside from his first name, and taste in cars, I knew little about Adam.
One thing was for certain: he wasn’t planning on hitting on me. He wouldn’t have put us floors apart if he was. The classic perv move would have been to put me in the master bedroom with him, claiming all the others were closed for repairs or other such silliness.
I was a bit unsure when it came to how I felt about that, though. I was in no great hurry to be molested but, truth be told, he was so handsome that a consensual roll in the hay might have been fun.
I already knew he had skillful hands— due to the fact that he played the bass guitar in a band, of course. If only he could defrost his demeanor. I’d have suggested he put his head in the microwave, but there was too much risk of him taking me seriously.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, and then beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in what was quickly starting to feel like a hybrid prison cell and tomb.
But at least my accommodations were luxurious, if they were either of those things.
I didn’t quite bounce off the walls, not really, but it was more like I wanted to run between them, trying to get a sense of the place. I wanted to try and calculate how long it might be before proper cabin fever set in.
At least there would be the option of taking a walk in the woods, a much better prospect than what was offered at my suspended college dorm. And at least I wouldn’t be on the streets, where I’d no doubt have ended up if Adam hadn’t taken me in.
Even so, I hated to impose. And something inside me was still responding strongly to basically being kept.
I had only ever had Theo as a roommate, but that was different, since he was my brother and I was little. I wasn’t sure about being in such a vulnerable position with anyone I didn’t know.
It scared me, really, as well as putting me more on edge. Maybe Adam’s plan wasn’t to rape and murder me, but instead to keep me as a prisoner— perhaps some sort of freaky living doll he would dress up every day and play pretend with.
I shook my head to chase the images away. Convincing as my inner pessimist could be, I knew I was being paranoid and tried to focus on the bright side. Not to mention the reality of the situation. I was sure that Adam was just trying to be nice and help me out. I already knew that working at Suspicious Activity was like being part of a family.
Plus, from what I knew of Seth, he was acquainted with everyone on a nearly intimate level. If there was something seriously wrong with Adam, aside from his obvious eccentricities, Seth would have known, and wouldn’t have put us together as roommates.
I told myself that everything would be fine. I would stay in Adam’s house, on the main floor, until the government was done imposing its lockdown. Never mind that it sounded like the plot of a Cormac McCarthy post-apocalyptic nightmare.
Then again, maybe we were in the post apocalypse and just hadn’t noticed yet. It would be a comfort, in a way. At least some of the madness would start to make sense.
I took off my shoes. There was nowhere to go, at least not tonight. I might as well make the best of my expensive surroundings.
