TASTE OF YOU . . . percabeth

three

THE NEXT TIME Emerson saw Percy, she'd been sitting on a chair on the balcony, idly flipping through a magazine when she saw a winged black horse fly by.

She frowned, squinting in disbelief at the sight she was seeing. But even through her sunglasses, she could tell that that was the guy she'd met around two weeks ago on a flying horse.

"Percy?" she yelled. "How are you flying? On a horse?"

He turned toward her, bringing his horse closer to her. "You can see Blackjack?" he asked.

The horse neighed at him. She swore she could see him roll his eyes and mutter something imperceptible to it.

"Uh . . . should I not be able to see it?" countered Emerson. "A horse. With wings. That can fly."

"Are there animals that have wings but can't fly?" Percy frowned.

"Ostriches, penguins, emus," she said, then she frowned at him. "But that's not the point, Sunshine. Why are you flying around here with a flying horse?"

The horse whinnied, and Percy rolled his eyes. "This is Blackjack, Em," he said. "And, honestly? You shouldn't be able to see him."

"Oh," she said. "Well, you're already keeping a secret of mine. I'll keep one of yours."

"Only one?" he asked.

"You haven't given me more than one," she pointed out. "Well, maybe that you've had a bad parent, but I'm not a monster. Or hypocritical. I'd keep that one."

"It's nice to know that you won't tell my secrets because you don't want to be a hypocrite."

She sent him a winsome smile. "It's good for my public image," she commented. "Do you want to stay? Or are you busy with your hor — sorry, Blackjack."

Percy thought about it for a moment before nodding, landing his horse on the balcony. Emerson winced as his wing swiped the table decorations off of some of the tables, but she quickly had a handle on her expression as Percy dismounted from the horse, whispered something to him, and he took off, knocking another few things off.

Percy went to pick them up. "Sorry—"

"Don't worry about it," Emerson went to intercept him. "It's fine, the staff will handle it. They probably need something to do, anyway. I've been doing nothing all day. Would you like to come in?"

He glanced at her before nodding. "Yeah. That'd be nice. To see more of your gigantic house, I mean."

She chuckled, taking his arm and leading him to the door leading to the inside of her home, putting her sunglasses on the top of her head. "It's not that big. I've seen bigger from poorer people."

"Seriously?"

"That's new money for you," she said distastefully. "Like Gatsby from the Great Gatsby. So ostentatious."

Percy frowned. "I've never read that."

"Lucky you," Emerson chuckled. "Mother dearest made me read it — something about learning what happens when you flaunt your wealth. You have an obsession with a girl, do anything for her, and then lose everything and die for her. It took me months to read it because of my dyslexia, but I learned that I can do anything if I have enough money."

"Uh huh," he said absently. "You have dyslexia?"

"Yeah?" she questioned. "It's fine. Not like I won't have to deal with discrimination every day once I own the corporation."

"Oh, yeah, I get it all the time at my old schools," he agreed.

Her eyebrows raised. "Really? You also have dyslexia?"