God, I’m being a massive, selfish bitch, and I know it. It’s not his fault he wants to move on. He isn’t doing anything wrong by trying to do so and I should let him.
“I’ll think about it,” I whisper.
Saxon’s solemn face turns into a wide grin. “That would be great, Brooke. I think it will be good for you, and I know Ruth misses hearing from you. Maybe now she won’t hound me every day to see how you’re doing.”
“I said I would think about it,” I state with more anger in my voice than is needed. I hate how he assumes this means yes.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m happy you’ll think about it.” His face drops and so does my stomach.
Thankfully his phone rings and pulls us both out of the awkward moment I created. He glances down at it and doesn’t pick it up right away. Almost like he doesn’t want to talk to the person on the other end, yet he wants the distraction from our tense moment.
Finally he places the phone by his ear. “Saxon Reed,” he answers in a business tone. “I’m in a meeting right now… I told you I’m unable to see you tonight. I have that business dinner… I told you no… Look I have to go… I’ll call you later… Okay, bye,” he growls before throwing the phone onto the table.
Wow, cold. “Who was that?” I ask before I can filter my brain-to-mouth function.
Saxon raises an eyebrow at me, and a slight smile curves his lips.
“Sorry, habit,” I utter as I look away embarrassed.
“It was Amber.” I quickly look back to him, surprised he’s even entertaining my nosiness, and he’s using a tone like I should know who Amber is.
He answers my unspoken question. “Remember? You met her at that cancer charity dinner we attended?”
Thinking back to the last event Nate and I attended, I somewhat remember Saxon’s date. In my defence he has never dated anyone for longer than a few weeks, and Nate and I have never met the same girl twice.
“The tall blonde,” he says, trying to push my memories along.
I tilt my head and give him a really look. “Gee, that narrows it down. Aren’t they all blond? Blond, tall, and fake boobs?”
Saxon looks down sheepishly. Shit. I have no filter today. It’s been a while since I’ve been around people. “Sorry, that was terrible of me. You have to excuse me as I haven’t been myself for the past three months.” I laugh, clumsily trying to lighten the mood. He gives me a sad smile. “Hang on. Did you say the cancer charity dinner? That was, like, four months ago. You’re still seeing her?” I ask in shock.
He shifts in his chair and just nods, and I can tell he doesn’t really want to discuss it. Luckily for him the waitress comes over then with our two coffees.
As she reaches the edge of our table, her gaze trails across Saxon’s face and then down his chest and arms. There is an uncomfortable silence as she stares at him, and I can tell he is getting more and more embarrassed, looking at me from under his bowed head.
When the waitress doesn’t stop her ogling I feel bad for him and decide to step in. “Thanks so much. You can just put them down here,” I say in my sweetest voice.
My words finally bring her out of her daydream state. “Yeah, sure, sorry. I’ll be right back with your food,” she says as she turns to walk away.
I look to Saxon with a smug smile. He rolls his eyes at me, and we both burst out laughing. “Just drink,” he says while trying to stifle his smile.
I laugh again as I reach for my caramel flan latte. My goodness, it looks unreal. There is whipped cream on top with caramel sauce swirled all through it. I take a sip and close my eyes. Oh my God, how have I not heard about these before? “Mmm, so good.” I open my eyes to find Saxon staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. “What?”
He shakes his head and picks up his coffee as I shrug my shoulders.
We sit and eat for another hour or so while discussing general topics like the business, Ruth, and other staff I know there. We discuss Jeanie, my parents, and mutual friends we still have in common from college.
It’s quiet on the ride home, and I can see the concern in Saxon’s eyes. As we pull up in my driveway he turns towards me. “Will you be all right?”
I think how nice it was at coffee, talking like normal people, about normal things. It was like he had forgotten I was falling apart and treated me as an equal. Now it was back to fragile Brooke. I sigh loudly. “I’ll be fine, Saxon.”
“You’ll think about it?”
“Yes, I’ll think about it.” No, I won’t.
“You’ll call Jeanie?”