“I’m studying to become a doctor, but the apartment’s from old money,” he said, which was nicely close to the truth. The old money had been his too, of course, but most mortals would assume he’d inherited it from family. Mostly, he’d just inherited it from himself, topped up with clever (prophetic, almost) investing. “You like it? It suits you.”
That was true, too. He liked the look of her in his house.
Maybe it was only that she was the first face he’d seen apart from the shades (did they count?) and Hermes (who definitely didn’t, wily bastard) in the last however-long it had been. He wanted to know but could clearly imagine the type of expression it would draw out of her face. Hey what day is it? You know what? Nah.