Page 102 of Fauxmance

My eyes were too busy taking in all the food to catch that last bit.

"Did you know?" she inquired lightly.

"Know what?" I asked.

"That my favorite is Earl Grey."

Startled, I looked to her, my brows contracting. "No. How could I have?"

"Ah well, Hayden might've mentioned it, or there are several articles and sources about the Davenports," she said. "The media loves throwing our name around. You wouldn't be the first person to try and butter me up by claiming to like the same things I do."

"That's not me," I said. "I've loved Earl Grey since I was little. Mom, Jas—that's my sister—and I used to watch Jane Austen movies and have tea parties all the time."

"You sound sincere."

"I am, Mrs. Davenport. Hayden didn't say anything, and I'd never claim to like something just to impress someone. I learned that lesson the hard way with my last boyfriend."

Her ears perked at that. "The one before my grandson?"

I gave a nod. "I thought I was in love with him. Sat through a ton of golf games."

"Ooh yes, my late husband was a fan as well."

"I acted like I was for Sean's sake. But…honestly, I don't like the game."

"Who does?" she said.

I giggled, but Mrs. Davenport wasn't through with her questioning.

"Are you still in love with him?"

"Who? Sean?" I asked in surprise, and she nodded, watching me carefully. "No. And I'm not sure I ever was."

"You said you were together for a while," she remarked.

"We were."

"Who broke it off? You or him?"

"He did," I said with a swallow. "I think a part of me will always love what we had as friends." Her brows lowered at that, and I knew I had to explain. "But Hayden…this is going to sound strange."

She gestured for me to go on, and I figured why not tell her the truth? I was still sorting out my feelings, but maybe through our lie, I could find clarity. Something about Constance made me feel comfortable telling her.

"It doesn't make sense at all," I said. "We've only known each other for a short time. But I feel like I have a deeper connection with Hayden than I ever had with my ex."

She nodded. "My grandson is very special."

"He is."

Mrs. Davenport poured the tea and handed me a cup.

"Milk or sugar?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said. "I like it plain."

Her nose scrunched. "I've never understood people who can drink it like that, let alone enjoy it."

I shrugged. "You can really taste the flavor this way," I said. "It's good. You should try it."

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