Page 26 of Fake Dating Daxton Hawk
I don’t have the courage to mention the “love” part. Honestly, what is with the people I care about disappearing on me. My parents were never there for me growing up. Their behavior was so bad that some nights they went out drinking and didn’t return till sunrise. Once, when I was nine, they disappeared for two days before stumbling through the front door with liquor breath.
Ryan… ugh, I don’t want to take my anger out on him. He’s living his life and earning good money with his travel vlogs. But after the terrible few months I’ve had, it would be nice to talk with my brother and have his emotional support. Yet I don’t have any method of contacting him. And now there’s Steel, as good as gone.
Mina is the only constant person in my life.
I rub my eyes. “I haven’t heard from Steel in days and it’s so not like him. I don’t know whether to be concerned about his safety or what. My gut tells me something isn’t right, that he’s lying to me.”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Zac says. “From everything you’ve told us, the guy seems crazy about you.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I feel like an idiot for liking him so much. I’m starting to think Steel was too good to be true.”
Mina grabs my shoulders and gently rocks me back and forth like she’s trying to shake sense into me. “That’s not true. You two are destined to be together.”
My phone vibrates and my eyes shoot straight back to the screen. I swear when Daxton’s name appears. A phone call.
“What doeshewant?” I say to myself, annoyed that he got my hopes up and isn’t Steel texting me. “Hello?” I answer, the word leaving my mouth a little too aggressively.
“Delphine.” The same greeting he always gives me, deep and somehow intimate. Even in this low mood I’m in, his velvety voice manages to stir up heat low in my belly. “How has your week been?”
“Fine, I guess. Look, just call me Jordan now that you know my real name.”
“Okay,Jordan.”
The sound of him speaking my real name sends another spark of heat through me. Not knowing how to react to the feeling, I try to get this conversation over with. “I’m in the middle of something. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I’m returning to New York on Friday. Will you have dinner with me?”
“Sure.” I don’t understand why he’s asking. It’s not like I can turn him down. Our agreement was that I’m available whenever he needs me to be his date. If he’s got a business dinner Friday night, I’ll be there, no questions asked. “Text me the details. I have to go shopping for appropriate clothes. Do you have any requests?”
“Requests?”
“You told me to wear the red dress on our date the other night. Do you want me to find something similar?”
“No, Jordan. You look beautiful in anything you wear.”
The call ends and I’m left staring at my phone in shock. Aside from the night we met at Club Noir, this is the first time Daxton has complimented me. I should be flattered by the remark, but all I can think about is Daxton handing out my number to other men and his degrading phraseShe’s not the kind of girl I fuck.
ChapterThirteen
Daxton
Friday night arrives quickly. Once my jet lands in New York, I take a car service to The Hawk Grand Hotel and head straight for the restaurant. I’m waiting in my usual meeting spot for Delphine outside the restaurant entrance, only this time I know it’s Jordan I’ll be meeting, and my nerves are out of control.
The thumping in my chest goes into overdrive as soon as I see Jordan step out of the elevator. She’s so incredibly beautiful. I’ve always thought Delphine was gorgeous, but knowing that she’s Jordan makes her even more stunning. I can’t believe I’ve had my girl in front of me this whole time yet never knew who she was.
Tonight, Jordan is dressed like she’s stepped straight out of a Marilyn Monroe film. Her black hair is curled and her lips are the brightest red, popping against her pale skin. She’s wearing a knee-length black dress that hugs her voluptuous figure, the bust area red with sleeves that drape off her shoulders and obscure part of her tattoos. Her long legs are propped up on heels that have bows over the toes.
Never, throughout all our Secret Santa communication, did I imagine Jordan would dress like this. I always thought she would be cutesy and the kind of girl who follows current fashion trends. But the real Jordan has her own style. She doesn’t blend in at all, and I find myself smiling at that knowledge.
As soon as Jordan notices me, she walks my way. I clear my throat and stand a little taller, adjusting my suit jacket. The nerves are overwhelming, yet I can’t help but feel some small amount of joy from this moment because no matter how difficult our upcoming conversation might be, I’m right where I want to be—with Jordan, my goal for so long.
“Jordan.” I smile. Speaking her name to her face feels surreal and incredible. “You look beautiful.”
Her gaze darts to me as soon as the compliment leaves my mouth, but she’s the farthest thing from flattered. Frustration sits in her eyes.
“Is everything all right?” I ask.
She glances off to the side and shakes her head with a look of disbelief. When I receive no response, I gently speak her name, but she cuts me off in a low and guarded tone, almost like she’s struggling not to break down in tears.
