Chapter 21 #2
Amelia nods, flashing a brave smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, it’s just a bit of soreness. Nothing I can’t handle.”
As we reach the ground floor, we step out of the building and head toward Denny Park. The walk is slow, accommodating her pace. Peanut shoots me looks as if to ask why we’re walking this slow.
Read the room, buddy.
“You know, if you’re hurting too much, we can always turn back. Misha mentioned yesterday’s hike was pretty intense.”
“No,” she responds quickly, her voice firm despite being edged with discomfort. “I’ve been looking forward to this walk. Don’t worry about me.”
Her resolve strengthens my own, and a smirk spreads across my face. “I’m glad,” I admit, feeling a surge of warmth I definitively shouldn’t. “I was excited for today too. And I think it will get better if you’re using those big muscles, warming them up a little.”
“Ha-ha,” she mocks, but the smile she returns is genuine now.
We enter the park, and the fresh morning air is filled with the subtle sounds of nature and the distant city. Amelia’s spirits seem lifted, and I feel a sense of relief.
As we walk along the pebble stone path, Peanut, who walks between us, seems to gravitate toward Amelia, nudging her from time to time, his tail wagging every time she speaks. Seeing their budding connection, I decide it’s time to hand over the leash. “He seems to prefer walking beside you.”
“Really?” Amelia beams, reaching out with the hand closest to me to take it, but Peanut remains between us, his joyful nudges continuing.
I place my hand on her hip to bring her to a stop, taking the leash back from her with my other hand.
With a click of my tongue and a “Right,” I command Peanut to switch sides.
He obediently trots around her, and I follow with the leash, then hand it to her again.
With Peanut now on her other side, I step closer and reach out, taking her free hand and intertwining our fingers.
She glances down at our hands, then up at me, a hint of surprise in her expression.
“I should keep hold of you in case he decides to run off and pull you with him,” I say, partially as an excuse to hold her hand.
Mostly as an excuse to hold her hand.
As we stroll along, a guy sitting in the grass strums a guitar, and Amelia slows her pace, her lips curling into a faint smile as she listens.
“Being out here, making music, it’s something magical,” she muses aloud.
“Is that what you wanna do with your life? Live from making music in parks?” I ask half-jokingly.
She furrows her brows at me, a silent question in her gaze. “Hell no.”
Technically, I shouldn’t even know that she’s playing an instrument, so I need to watch what I say. “What then? Planning to climb the ladder at Elysium?”
She shakes her head, chuckling lightly. “Elysium was mostly a way to get away from London. I’ll stay as long as it makes sense for me, but I’m not there because I love it or anything.”
Well, that’s honest.
I want to ask about London, about her mother, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to spoil her mood.
“What about you?” she asks before I can dig any further.
“I think I’m pretty high up that ladder.” I shrug, but her sudden burst of laughter makes me realize how that might have sounded arrogant.
Misha always says I sound entitled.
But it’s just the fucking truth.
“Well, there’s still management above you, any plans to infiltrate them?” she teases playfully yet probingly.
“The short answer is no. The long answer is… fuck no,” I say, a smirk playing at the corner of my mouth.
She raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “How come? I bet they’d love to keep you guys.”
I scoff lightly, shaking my head. “They’re not as big of fans of us as you might think. Sure, they like what we do and how much money we bring them, so they kiss our asses. But they don’t like us. And honestly, I can’t stand them,” I admit, my tone turning more serious.
“Why not?”
I glance at her, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “I don’t take criticism from people I wouldn’t take advice from. And they… let’s just say, have you ever looked at someone and known the wheel was turning, but the hamster was dead?”
Amelia stops walking as she bursts out laughing. She pulls her hand from mine to hold her side, wincing as if her sore muscles are protesting the sudden movement. “Ouch,” she manages through her giggles.
Peanut sits down in front of us, tilting his head as if he’s as confused by her laughter as amused by it.
Same, buddy.
“What?” I ask, chuckling along with her. “God knows how they managed to start this company with two brain cells.”
“You’re the worst,” she presses out between giggles, but there’s warmth in her eyes. She reaches out and takes my hand again, the familiar flutter returning to my stomach as our fingers intertwine.
“For us, Elysium was always a means to an end,” I continue, feeling more at ease now as we resume walking.
“They provide the resources we need for our project. It’s a company with a good reputation in Seattle, which is perfect for launching Jamie.
But our real dream…” I pause, my gaze fixed on the path ahead.
“Is to start our own company, focusing solely on AI. We want to work with specialists, dive deeper into the potential of artificial intelligence, maybe push boundaries that Elysium isn’t interested in exploring. ”
Amelia nods, her expression thoughtful as she absorbs what I’ve shared. The path widens as we walk on, the sunlight on the adjacent trees casting long shadows that blend with our own.
“That sounds amazing. Having the freedom to chase your own visions must be exciting.”
“It is. And a bit daunting. But we’re hoping to make it happen. If we can manage it, we’ll be working on our own terms. Maybe we even open an AR department. I know a certain someone who could lead it.”
Her brows furrow, a flicker of confusion and apprehension crossing her face. “I never told you that I have a PhD in AR,” she says, her voice tinged with uncertainty as if she’s wondering how much I really know about her.
Fuck. Think quick, Grey.
“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t do some digging into your background before I let you beta test our baby, did you?” I reply, injecting as much lightness into my tone as I can muster, hoping to defuse the tension and make her believe it was all part of the process.
“Well, no. I guess I just didn’t see myself as important enough to warrant a background check by the Grey Donovan.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, a pang of something close to guilt settling in my chest. That she thinks so lowly of herself stings a little.
Doesn’t she see? She’s very important—more than she knows.
I’m not just talking about her impressive credentials.
There’s something about her that makes me want to prove she’s worth so much more than she gives herself credit for.
“Doctor Grey Donovan,” I correct her playfully, hoping to coax a smile.
Her lopsided grin emerges, giving me the courage to step closer and cup her cheek.
“Doctor Amelia Charlotte Stanley, twenty-six, from London, master’s in computer science, PhD in VR and AR, working as a systems integration specialist for smart living solutions.
Had a birthday three days ago and didn’t even tell me. ”
Her eyes widen as my thumb strokes her jaw. Then I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Happy belated.”
She looks at me, flushing a deep red, utterly flabbergasted. Deciding to give us both a moment to collect our thoughts, I gesture toward the fenced area of the park. “Come on, let’s let Peanut run for a while.”
We walk into the leash-free zone, releasing Peanut who immediately starts frolicking in the grass. Finding a bench, we sit down to watch him play.
“Why is he called Peanut, though?”
I chuckle, watching Peanut chase his tail a few feet away.
“Well, I wanted to give Grandpa a puppy when I was doing my PhD because I thought he’d been lonely since I left for college.
Misha found Peanut on Craigslist, but it turned out to be a scam by a backyard breeder.
The puppy was advertised as some made-up breed of Shih Tzu, he was just a tiny, brown little thing.
We had no idea what he would grow into. Since he looked like a little peanut, that’s what we decided to call him. ”
Amelia laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement before she sobers up and asks, “And you said your grandpa can’t do long walks anymore? Why is that?”
“He’s eighty-two now,” I explain. “He can manage small potty walks but not much more. Peanut is too strong for him. As you saw earlier, Peanut gets excited and doesn’t think about his strength. Grandpa just doesn’t have the energy to keep up with him.”
As Peanut starts to play with other dogs, I find myself opening up more than I usually do. I keep things about Grandpa close to my chest, especially with Misha and Oliver. They know him too well, and sometimes I feel like their closeness biases their advice.
“Oliver thinks I should get a live-in nurse for him,” I admit, watching Amelia’s reaction closely.
“And what do you think?”
“I think it would be good for him,” I confess, feeling a weight lift as I speak.
“So why are you hesitating?”