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“Nope. But definitely a fancy sports cars for you.”
He didn’t say anything, and after a moment I tilted my head and looked at him.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well what?”
“Am I right?”
“We’re here,” he said with a smile.
“Dick,” I muttered.
He laughed and got out of the car.
I did too, not for the first time struck by how bizarre this was.
The whole Josh Kelley being Davit Petrosyan thing, yes. But even more, how that knowledge gave me a freedom that hadn’t been there before.
Yes, it was terrifying. And I still didn’t know what I should do.
What I could do.
But there were benefits.
Like with Davit, I didn’t have to have any pretense.
Didn’t have to be the perfect avatar for the company, the CEO’s daughter, the friendly, helpful head of records.
I could be me. And not Amy. But Amethyst.
Sad thing was that I wasn’t really sure that I knew Amethyst, not really.
I’d spent so many years being what everyone thought that I should, that who I really was sometimes got lost in the shuffle.
But not with him.
Case in point.
We sat at a booth in the back, and I ordered.
But not the appropriate order for a woman, a large woman, a respectable one.
No, I ordered what the fuck I wanted to eat, and I ate it.
Didn’t think twice about it.
Because with Davit, I didn’t have to pretend.
And the weird thing was, I think it was the same for him, at least partially.
We’d always had an easy camaraderie. But there was more to it now.
An understanding that I knew we didn’t have with anyone else.
“What?” he asked when I looked up from my plate at him.
“Nothing,” I said.
