After the Phone Call
Adam said goodbye to Joey and the gang, then headed over to MAX's apartment.
The night passed uneventfully.
No, there's no "million words omitted" here. This is a pure love story, after all! 😌 And Adam's not some impatient sleaze. Hmm… Mostly because he's tight with Sheldon and picked up a thing or two—like how without a signed, crystal-clear consent form, even a verbal "yes" doesn't cut it. Too many fairy-tale scams out there in the multiverse! Luckily, Adam's never had to deal with Sheldon's "Amy forcibly kissing him" dilemma. Not everyone's that bold, and MAX—despite her tendency to "drive full speed" at the drop of a hat—is a rare breed. Plus, no bet conditions were triggered here.
MAX genuinely felt bad for Caroline and, being the kind soul she is, wanted to help however she could. But that didn't mean she'd already accepted Caroline as a sister. And Adam? He's a gentleman—doesn't sweat the small stuff. So, he just chatted with MAX about some things better left off the phone. That's it.
The next morning, he said hi to a bleary-eyed Caroline—who'd been up all night and looked wrecked—then left MAX's place for work.
In the blink of an eye, a week flew by.
That Evening
"What's wrong with her?" Adam asked, noticing Caroline wiping tears as she slipped into the bedroom.
"She's upset," MAX said with a helpless shrug. "There was an auction today—all Channing family stuff. Seeing her old belongings sold off piece by piece? How could she not be crushed?"
"Heh," Adam chuckled. "Lose the cash, dodge the crash, right? Technically, most of that stuff wasn't even hers—her dad bought it with scammed money."
"Yeah," MAX nodded. "I knew the Channings were loaded, but watching that auction? Holy crap, that's next-level rich—like, dripping-in-oil rich. Insane!"
"Not surprising," Adam said with a shrug. "They're the real owners of this country, aren't they?"
"Here's some good news," MAX teased, glancing toward the bedroom. "Now's your chance to swoop in and play hero!"
"I'm not that guy," Adam said, unfazed.
"Do you like pink diamonds?" MAX asked, eyeing him.
"Nah, not really. Why?" Adam's curiosity perked up.
"Not really?!" MAX's eyes widened. "Pink diamonds are gorgeous! How can you not like them?"
"Diamonds don't have much value," Adam said with a grin. "Just carbon crystals formed under heat and pressure—same as coal, really. They're not even that rare. The high prices? All hype from diamond merchants. Could crash any day. No real collector's worth."
"Oh, got it," MAX laughed. "Guess I'll use that to cheer Caroline up later. At today's Channing auction, the thing that broke her heart most was her $24 million pink diamond getting snatched up—by a rapper, no less!"
"Heh," Adam snorted. "What, is Caroline a racist or something?"
"Nah, not that," MAX clarified. "She said the rapper probably doesn't even get it. He might trash her precious diamond, and odds are high he will."
"You should tell her then," Adam said with a sly grin. "I know what's gonna happen to that pink diamond."
"You do? What's the deal?" MAX asked, intrigued.
"That rapper's gonna have it embedded right in the middle of his forehead—like Vision from the Marvel comics," Adam said, smirking. "He's already booked our hospital's top plastic surgeon, Dr. Mark Sloan, to do the job."
"Pfft!" MAX spat out her drink. "No way! That's a thing?!"
"Oh, it's totally a thing!" Adam said, marveling. "In two weeks, we're done with our intern year and taking the resident exam to become full-fledged residents. I've seen a lot this year—read tons of medical texts too—but I still can't stay chill about everything. This country's just too wild. Stuff happens here you couldn't dream up if you tried! Just these past few weeks, we've had two crazy cases: panda twins and now a real-life Vision. We're pros, sure, but it's hard not to crack up. And who'd have thought Caroline's tied to this weirdo story?"
"No way!" MAX still couldn't wrap her head around it. "He's not scared of getting robbed? His odds of dying unnaturally just shot up to 99.9999%, right?"
"You can't stop a heart that loves to play!" Adam quipped. "And don't rich Black folks do this kind of thing all the time?"
MAX fell silent. Fair point. With education gaps, a lot of wealthy Black people made it big through sports or music—overnight riches stuff. Money they didn't grind for? They didn't sweat spending it. Hence all the headlines about Black celebs flexing hard, followed by just as many about them going broke, turning a winning hand into a total bust. Most didn't think to use the cash to lift their families up long-term—just left behind a trail of wild riches-to-rags tales.
"But can you actually embed it?" MAX asked, still baffled.
"You can," Adam explained. "They attach a rod to the diamond as a base, then implant the rod into the forehead. Pain, bleeding, swelling—all the fun side effects come with it. But if he's into it, it's doable."
"He's really not worried about theft," MAX muttered. "If Caroline ran into him and saw her favorite diamond treated like that, she'd probably yank it right off his face!"
"No biggie," Adam laughed. "He says he bought the diamond to 'protect his wealth' by keeping it on him, but he's thought about the robbery risk too. Got it insured for a fortune."
"What's insurance gonna do?" MAX scoffed. "Chances are, he'll be long gone by then."
"No worries," Adam grinned. "Wealth redistribution, right? It'll stay in human society—won't fly off to Mars or anything."
"…" MAX shot him a look. "You're always calling me sharp-tongued, but you're the real savage here!"
"Nah, you're the queen of sass," Adam teased. "It's one of my favorite things about you."
MAX rolled her eyes hard.
Later That Night
Caroline, lying in bed heartbroken, got even sadder—and then just started bawling. Once the tears started, they wouldn't stop. She felt like life was just too damn hard.
(Chapter End)