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I made it to her place in under fifteen minutes, the route to her house blazed into my brain.
I saw that she was home, probably unwinding or, if I knew her, researching me.
She had been taken aback by that kiss just as I had been and was probably just as confused. And when Amethyst was confused, she dug in and did research.
So I didn’t doubt that was what she was doing now.
I grabbed the manila envelope I had placed on the passenger seat and then walked to her door.
This time, she opened it before I even rang the bell.
“Yeah,” she said, not bothering to hide her hostility, not that it deterred me.
“You’re still such a terrible host. Let me in,” I said.
She scowled, then stepped aside and pulled open the door.
“Sure, Josh, come on in,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“Don’t mind if I do, Amy,” I responded.
That got a bright smile from her, and it made me sad to know that smile would soon be gone.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I walked into her living room and sat down.
“Make yourself at home, Davit,” she said.
I heard sarcasm there too but studied the area, noticing how cozy it looked. She didn’t have her computer out, but I saw a cup of tea, her cell phone, the television remote. I assumed she had just turned off the TV.
“I have a question for you,” she said, moving to sit on the couch.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I’m just a boring, very unfortunate soul who found myself in your orbit. So, what do guys like you do in the evening? You know, after days of mayhem and all that?”
I laughed. “Today, my mayhem involved reprogramming GPS systems on a couple of shipping containers. Totally scintillating stuff,” I responded.
“No, that’s what Josh Kelley did. What did you do, Davit Petrosyan?”
“Nothing. In fact, the last interesting thing I did was have lunch with a very interesting woman,” I said.
Her brows raised and then lowered, but she recovered. “Anybody I know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. But I have a question for you too,” I said.
I had sat in the chair opposite the couch and stared at her across the expanse of her living room.
She returned the stare, her gaze never wavering, and I knew that was intentional.
“What’s your question?”
“You said you’re going to keep your mouth shut,” I said.
“Yes. And I am.”
“I don’t believe you,” I responded.
She shrugged. “Why is that my problem?”
