Stunned, I almost drop my fork. “What?”
Oliver chimes in, his voice warm, “What Grey’s trying to say is, we want you to keep him. Take it as a thank you for helping us out so much.”
“But I can wait and buy one when it’s available…” I start, hesitation clear in my tone.
Are they joking?
A Jamie will cost a fortune.
Misha leans forward, his expression earnest. “Or you can keep your version of him and make us feel a little better knowing he’s with someone who appreciates him.”
“He’s not a dog,” I chuckle, but Misha only grins at me.
“So, I can keep him, and there is no need to report or upload anything anymore?”
No need for any more lunches with you guys?
I knew it.
Just when I started to feel comfortable.
“Nope, no reports or uploads anymore. You can use him like you would have bought him for yourself because heisyours now. Grey transferred the owner rights to you this morning.”
Wow. “Thank you,” I whisper, the words barely escaping my lips. The gratitude I feel is overwhelming, stirring a mix of emotions I’m not used to handling in public.
Misha nonchalantly shrugs as he unwraps his sandwich further. “But of course, if you stumble upon anything interesting, just bring it up at lunch.”
As if I would walk over here to report anything while they eat.
I frown. “Or I’ll just send you an email.”
“Seems excessive, given we see each other at lunch every day, but sure, if you want to keep them casual, we can keep the work-related stuff to email.” Misha shrugs, taking a bite.
I open my mouth to respond, but Grey’s gruff voice cuts through. “As if we’d let you lunch alone and risk choking on a peanut because you’re too shy to call for help and would rather suffocate than draw attention to yourself,” he mutters, almost sounding irritated, his eyes fixed on his plate.
A surge of indignation rises within me. “Stop feeling guilty.”
“We want you here, Amelia,” Oliver adds softly, sincerity piercing through. His words are so genuine and heartfelt, that I can’t find it in myself to doubt them.
He wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true, right?
Not Oliver.
“Okay,” I whisper again, my voice steadier this time as I resume eating.
They really want me here—not out of obligation, but because they see me as someone worth spending time with. It feels good, and I’m ready to let go of the caution that has shrouded me since I arrived here. Even if this is just about sharing lunches and casual chats, it’s far more than I’ve had in a long time.
Best birthday present ever.
EIGHTEEN
Left,left, turn around and up.
I’m sitting in our office at home, manipulating the Rubik’s cube in my hands, each twist and turn a poor distraction from the whirlwind of emotions inside me. Jamie’s interface is open and ready on the screen while I wait for Amelia to come back into her living room and onto the screen.
Pride swells within me as I remember that I had the nerve to tell her she’s beautiful today.
Her face was worth the fact that my anxiety about it almost made me puke.
