Page 30 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
“Sit. I’ve cooked breakfast for you.”
He… what?
Daxtoncookedme breakfast. He didn’t order room service like last time.
He turns the stove off and places a glass of water and plate of eggs on the island counter. Not any eggs, either, but eggs topped with tomato chutney, chili flakes, and dried herbs. Exactly how I like it. He remembers.
I can’t find any words in this moment. I can’t even move, I’m so shocked at his attention to detail.
“Did I get the portions wrong?” he asks.
“No… The eggs look good. You… made this for me? Where’s yours?”
“I ate earlier. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of before I leave.”
“Oh, um… thank you. So… you cook.”
“You say that like it’s a shock.”
I take a seat at the counter with the eggs. “It is. You don’t really look like the kind of guy who would waste time in the kitchen. I mean, you have more than enough money to pay for a personal chef.”
“I do dine out and order a lot of takeout food. But I also enjoy cooking when I have the time. My mother taught me how to cook when I was a kid.” He leans back against the opposite counter and folds his arms, watching me. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
My cheeks grow hot from all the embarrassing memories. I cut into my food to avoid Daxton’s gaze. “Not really, except to say I’m sorry for offloading my emotional breakdown onto you.”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t mind.”
I swallow a mouthful of eggs. “So, what are your plans for the day? Need me to be your date for anything? I promise there won’t be a repeat of last night again. I can be professional.”
“Actually, I need to be back in LA. Something has come up with business. I leave in a few minutes, but I can postpone my flight if you need company.”
My mind is thrown into a loop of confusion again. This is so unlike the Daxton Hawk I’ve come to know, sounding genuinely concerned about me. “You feel sorry for me. Seriously, I’m fine. Last night was a moment of weakness. I had let my emotions get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Don’t delay your flight for me.” I bring another bite of eggs up to my mouth then change the topic so he doesn’t fight me on this. “Can I ask why you travel so much?”
“LA is my home. It’s where I primarily run business. I have a hotel opening there within a few weeks but I’m also traveling to New York a lot for another hotel I’m developing in Manhattan.”
“Oh… that sounds… interesting.”
He sees right through my lie and chuckles. “Riveting.”
“So, when should I expect you back?”
Daxton lets out a heavy breath, like I’ve somehow asked a stressful question. “I’m not sure. I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, try to enjoy yourself. Don’t stress about guys or auditions.”
My fork stops halfway to my mouth. I place it back on the plate and meet Daxton’s gaze. “You’re being nice to me. Really nice. I’m sorry, I just don’t understand it or trust it after you pimped me out to every man in the city and his dog.”
Daxton cringes, pinching the space between his eyes. “Jordan, I am so,sosorry about the conversation you overheard. I was a complete asshole, I know. I shouldn’t have passed your number on—” The self-loathing in his voice is replaced with shock. He lowers his hand from his face, looking at me with confusion. “Wait. You saidevery man… You think I’ve continued handing out your number? Shit. No. I haven’t. It was just that once.”
So, that businessman on our first date spread my number around town? That makes me feel a little less icy toward Daxton, if it’s the truth. But I still don’t know what I’m meant to say in this situation.
I reach for my glass of water, but Daxton slides it from reach, earning my eye contact. “There’s something else I need to clear up,” he says. “Youaremy type. You’re beautiful. Why else do you think I approached you in Club Noir? What you overheard was me being a jerk, trying to butter up a potential business deal.”
There’s so much sincerity in the way Daxton looks at me when speaking those words. I can see in his eyes the apology has weight and meaning to it. His voice alone shows me how sorry he is.
You are my type.
