Page 23 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
Yeah. Let’s talk later, ok?
What the actual hell? Maybe I’m being a bitch again. Maybe something terrible happened to Steel and I’m only thinking of myself right now, but his behavior is off. He’s being evasive, which he never does. And, what, he has no reaction to me confessing my feelings?
JORDAN HART
I’m trying to be understanding but you’re not giving me much to work with. I tell you I want to meet up, that I think I love you, and then you start acting weird. Please tell me what’s going on.
STEEL WEST
I’m sorry, I do want to meet you. And I care about you too. You know I do. We’ll try again another time.
I scared you off by mentioning love, didn’t I?
I spend thirty minutes waiting for Steel to reply, and when he doesn’t, I give up on waiting and dive into the pool, letting the water wash away my tears.
ChapterEleven
Daxton
“You look like shit, Mr. Hawk” is the first thing Amabella says to me when answering my FaceTime.
“I feel like shit.” Normally, I would be laughing with her over the professional way in which she addressed me, but not today.
The camera view of Amabella wobbles as she takes a seat on the couch inside her apartment at The Hawk Grand Hotel. Her blonde hair is combed back into a neat bun and she’s wearing her restaurant uniform. “Where are you?” she asks. “It sounds loud and I don’t recognize your background.”
A waiter places a glass of whiskey on the table of my booth. I thank him before he leaves. “I arrived in LA last night. I’m on a lunch break at a beach restaurant that opened this week. Is Ally at school?”
“Yeah. Hey, my shift at the restaurant starts in ten minutes so I can’t talk for long. Why do you look like you got no sleep last night?”
“Because I didn’t sleep last night,” I say.
“Let me guess. You received an invitation to Brad and Felicity’s wedding? I got mine too. I’m not going if you aren’t.”
“Don’t get me started on the wedding. But no, that’s not what this is about.” I take a sip of my whiskey and end up gulping down the whole thing at the thought of what I’m about to say. “I met Jordan.”
Amabella gasps, covering a smile with her hand. “Dax, that’s incredible. How did it go?”
“Terrible.” I scratch my neck in irritation and groan. “The situation issofucked up.”
She cringes. “Don’t tell me Jordan catfished you. I thought Secret Santa prevented that stuff?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. Jordan doesn’t know we’ve met. She doesn’t even know who I am.”
“I’m confused.”
I take a deep breath, wishing I had more whiskey. “Jordan is the escort I’ve been using. She’s Delphine.”
Amabella’s mouth hangs open. “How on earth did that happen?”
“I don’t know. Dumb luck.”
“Okay, but this isn’t all bad. Delphine is beautiful. It’s actually amazing luck.”
I glare at Amabella on my phone screen, unconvinced. “She hates my guts.”
“Yeah, that’s a bit of a problem.” Amabella knows all of this. I explained the Delphine situation a while ago when she asked why I’d started hiring Delphine consistently and whether I was developing feelings for her. “So you still don’t know why she hates you?”
“No. And it gets worse. Jordan is living in my place in New York because her apartment burned down. On top of that, I’m paying her to be my exclusive escort. This all happened before I realized who she is.”
