The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 22

"It's okay. Everyone forgets from time-to-time."
The waiter returns and sets our plates down, the warmth from the waffle caresses my face as the steam takes over my senses. It smells amazing. I pick up the syrup and drizzle it over the waffle. As I grab my knife and fork, I notice Blake staring at me.
"I thought you weren't eating," he says trying to suppress a grin.
I cut a piece of waffle and pop it into my mouth. Swallowing, I chuckle. "I hadn't intended to, but you guessed my favorite breakfast food, so it's hard to resist." I smirk at him as he shakes his head.
"Waffles are your favorite?"
"Yeah," I say, shocked someone would even ask this. "Waffles are the single most amazing thing on the planet as far as food is concerned."
"I'm more of a pancake guy, myself."
"Well, that makes you a weirdo." I pop another piece of waffle into my mouth.
Blake laughs openly and I smile as we both dig into our breakfast.
My plate cleared, I set down my fork and glance at my watch. It's already 8:00 AM. Good thing Blake's office is so close. We've spent the remainder of breakfast talking about his job and itinerary for the day. He hasn't asked me more personal questions, though a few times he started to, but stopped before he got more than two words out.
I really want to dislike him. There's no sense being chummy with someone I won't see again after this is all over.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out my credit card, keeping it hidden under the table. I'm sure as hell not going to ask him if it's okay for me to pay for breakfast. The waiter walks over to the end of the table, holding the check. As he extends his hand to Blake, I dart mine out, grabbing the paper and standing in the process. The waiter doesn't bother saying anything, but turns and hurries to his other table.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Paying." I walk across the dining room to the cash register.
I hand the woman the check and my credit card, signing for the purchase quickly and returning my card to my back pocket as I rejoin Blake at the table. He's fuming mad, and I try hard to suppress the laugh threatening to escape my throat.
"Do not do that again . . . ever," he says through gritted teeth.
"You got a problem with a woman paying for breakfast?" I raise my eyebrows as he stands, gazing down at me.
I take a step back to put some space between us. "Why?"
"I just do. Don't push it," he says hotly, mimicking my words from earlier.
"Fine. Are you ready to go?"
"You going to keep up the one word answers for the rest of the day?" I glance at him as we walk through the door.
He doesn't respond, but looks down, meeting my eyes and rolls his, practically stomping to the car. Jameson's standing by the back door and opens it, allowing Blake to climb in the back.
"You okay, sir?" Jameson asks.
'That woman is impossible."
"What did she do this time?"
“Hey, what do you mean ‘this time’?” I open my arms in question.
Blake growls. I can't control the laugh that escapes my lips.