Fixer Upper (A Choni Fanfiction)

Three

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm blasting by my head. I quickly shut it off and rubbed my eyes before sitting up. I had recently made it a goal of mine not to check my phone until I am completely ready for my day, so to make my waking up process easier for me. I usually wait until breakfast, when I have nothing to entertain me as I eat.

I blinked a few times and turned to my left, where I was met with an empty bed. I sighed in slight disappointment, but slid out of bed to face my day, nonetheless.

I showered, then I dressed myself, brushed my teeth and accessorized before heading downstairs. I had ultimately decided on a black pant suit, paired with red stilettos and a matching button up top. I had an important meeting with Josie McCoy, the face of next month's issue of Bombshell Magazine, and one of the most phenomenal recording artists since Whitney Houston.

Admittedly, she was someone I had been interested in meeting for a long time, considering the fact that I had watched her rise to fame in the tabloids since before I made my first million. Not to mention the fact that I'd been attracted to her from the moment I saw her face.

Today was professional, however, and that was okay.

I jogged down the stairs, and heard rustling in the kitchen, followed by the smell of something pleasant.

"Glad to see you're up." Smiled Toni from the island where she was setting down a plate of bacon. "I went out to the store this morning to buy some food. I'm sure you worked up an appetite last night." She winked at me as she pushed and empty plate across the counter toward me. I sat down silently and awaited her to seat herself across from me, only for her to take the seat beside me. She pulled a plate of waffles from the middle of the counter, and I forked one, placing it on my plate and reaching for the honey and bowl of berries.

"I don't know what compelled you to come back here." I chuckled sadly as I topped my waffles with a handful of raspberries, blueberries and strawberries. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the company, and the meal," it was an understatement, the idea of someone caring about me made my gut wrench in an unfamiliar way, "I just don't see why you'd drive all the way back into the Riverdale district just to make your boss breakfast." I justified as I drizzled honey over the fruit and waffle.

"I like taking care of people," she shrugged, "I also love being in the kitchen. It was pretty much the only thing I did when I got my own place in the Sweetwater district. I was amazed by the fact that food consisted of more than just frozen lunches, jelly sandwiches and boxed dinners, so I decided to learn how to make all kinds of stuff. If I could, I'd sleep in the kitchen." She joked, and I rose a brow.

"Is there anything you can't do?" I teased, and she shrugged simply.

"Nothing that I'm interested in. I make sure I'm being my best at everything, so that I can't say the I play a 'little piano' or that I know 'a little' about cars."

"Wait, so you play piano too?" I scoffed, and she shrugged, yet again.

"I could teach you, if you'd like." She offered before forking a piece of sausage onto her plate.

"I'd love that." I smiled, my fork blindly cutting off a piece of the food I was anticipating.

I moaned at the taste, closing my eyes as I chewed slowly, the buttery flavor assaulting my taste buds in a way that made me see stars beneath my eyelids. "God," I hummed, "at this rate, come live with me." I joked, and she laughed at me slightly.

We spent the rest of breakfast in an animated chat, undeniably intrigued by the other, despite the fact that our banter remained playful and sly. I saw her out, and off the driveway before sliding into my own vehicle and zooming off to work.