𝒟ℯ𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉ℯ － ℬ𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 ℬ𝒶𝓇𝓃ℯ𝓈 𝒳 𝒪𝒞

𝒻𝒾𝓋ℯ

She couldn't hold back the blush across her cheeks as he spoke to her, and she sat on the bar stool, crossing her legs carefully as she kept a straight posture. James resumed chopping the strawberries, blueberries, and kiwis that were placed on the cutting board.

As Zaya analyzed him, she pursed her lips, and he met her eyes playfully.

"What are you making?" She asked, her voice still a little raspy from her restful sleep.

He scraped the fruit into a glass bowl and pushed it toward her.

"I'm making you a healthy breakfast, Zaya," James gestured to the fruit in the bowl, and Zaya reached into it. She popped a blueberry into her mouth and squinted at him as she chewed her bite.

"Fruit is breakfast?" Her brow arched in suspicion.

He chuckled to himself before shaking his head.

"No. Just an appetizer to keep you sated until the main course comes out," he replied, rounding the counter again and pulling open the fridge. James took eggs, cherry tomatoes, cheese, spinach, butter, and milk all from the refrigerator before he placed everything onto the counter. Zaya watched how he hesitated briefly before meeting her eyes again.  

"Are you allergic to anything... Or lactose intolerant?" He asked.

Zaya shook her head unable to stifle her small smile.

"No."

His eyes narrowed with a glint of gentleness behind them, lips curling as he went back into his efforts to make her breakfast.

"Alright," he reached behind him and into the cupboard, grabbing some potatoes and spices to begin cooking.

She couldn't figure him out. This behavior was so foreign to her. Zaya couldn't process the fact he was taking care of her the way he was, making her breakfast. Not in a million years with Nate.

Her mind raced, craving the details that entailed in his life, his work life, his regular lifestyle. It confused her. How could a jeweler be a millionaire, maybe even a billionaire? Sure precious metals and gems were in high demand, and if you sold in Manhattan, you would get a substantial revenue, but she hadn't ever heard of him before. All of it was killing her. The questions racing in her head made her want to go into a stalker-deep dive through social media until she found some answers. 

"I want to know more about your work, James," she piped up, almost involuntarily.

He met her eyes as he started skinning the potato, unphased by her question.

"What about my work?" He spoke coolly.

Zaya tilted her head to herself, popping another blueberry into her mouth and chewing for a moment before shrugging.

"I want to know about how you founded your company... Do you have a partner? When did you start it? How did you get into jewelry?" She pried.

Zaya felt the anticipation build in her chest as she questioned him. She was always forward and found ways to get men to cave to her, primarily through the process of tipping big at the club.

To her luck, he nodded, picking up the potato skins and carrying them over to the trash before dropping them inside. He turned on the water in the sink and chuckled to himself. James looked over his shoulder at her before turning the water off.

"You're nosy, aren't you?" He quipped.

She was silent, waiting for his response, not taking no for an answer and making sure he knew that from her demeanor. From her silence, James began cutting the potato carefully. His knife work was impressive and meticulous. He cut through everything like he had done it 100 times before.