Deja Vu | TENET (2020)

Tuesdays at Adrienne's

You can’t remember when exactly you picked up on his pattern. Most of the time all the days and the faces ran together in an endless blur of "welcome in" and "what'll it be today" and "thanks so much, see you next time". But there were always a few regulars who stuck out.

Neil was no different.

Or… maybe he was. Maybe it was his messy blond hair. Or the enormous scarves slung around his shoulders. Or the stubble on his chin. Or the quirk of his lips when he smiled at all the baristas - making a few of the younger ones all but swoon, giggling to each other as he swept out of the cafe. Well. He didn't quite sweep when he walked. Most of the time he seemed about as graceful as a baby giraffe.

He came in every Tuesday - around nine in the morning - and ordered a cappuccino to go. Sometimes he'd get a chocolate croissant, pointing to the pastry in the case with two, slender fingers tapping on the glass.

"Don't tap the glass," you tease one rainy Tuesday, "you'll frighten my baked goods."

"I'll take two, then" Neil smiles, "can't have pastries thinking I'm a monster and leaving anyone out."

"They thank you for your benevolence."

He shakes his head as he hands over his card to pay, but you can see the laughter lines around his eyes and mouth. He's trying - and rather failing - to hide his amusement.

"Mazie will have those right out for you." You pass his card back, "See you next week, Neil."

"Have a lovely day, Y/n." And this time when he smiles it's just for you. You can't decide if you love or hate the way it makes your stomach flutter and head spin. You shake off the feeling and call for the next customer in line.

Fifteen minutes later, you're seated at the back desk working on that week's supply order when Mazie comes over carrying a dine-in plate.

"Neil said to give his extra croissant to you," she says, setting the plate next to your steaming mug of chai, "something about an act of benevolence. And that he'll see you on Tuesday."

"Oh," your brow creases, "well that's kind of him."

"I think he's sweet on you." Mazie grins. At seventeen she’s the youngest on staff. But she’s quick and witty and makes better chocolate chip cookies than any of your other vendors.

"Just because he did a kind thing doesn't mean he's sweet on me."

"Fine. But you're definitely sweet on him."

"Am not."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"Back to work with you!" You shoo her away, face warm. And not from the tea you'd been drinking.

-=-

It's two weeks before you see him again.

The Tuesday in between you'd been called away for a mind-numbing meeting with your investors. Your cafe - lovingly called Adrienne's after your grandmother - was doing well. So well in fact they encouraged you to expand. Add a second location. You declined. Think about the profits, they said.

But Adrienne's had never been about making money. It had been her dream almost as much as it had been yours. To have a place where people could gather and be free of life's worries for a time. To share love in the form of food and drink or open mic nights or painter's night where you'd feature local art. Adrienne's was about togetherness. Community. People first, profit second. Profit last if you had any say.

So you told them no. Out of the question. They grumbled and sighed and huffed. But you wouldn't budge.

You could have gotten back to the cafe with enough time to catch Neil, but the meeting left you tired and grumpy. And you were confident in your staff to handle things when you were gone. So you go home and have a bath and a martini and spend the day doing all of the chores you normally don't make time for.