Feelings

Trying... again...

Finding Luke was the easy bit.  Explaining where he'd been for the last few hours, not so much.

He found him propping up the pop-up bar in the gallery, pretty much on his own.  Instantly, Tom felt really guilty.  He'd missed most of the post-performance evening, and now even the sponsors had gone. 

It was just Luke, the bar staff and a couple of people who, old enough to know better and very probably already in one, had decided the corner of a gallery in Covent Garden was a good place to start a physical relationship.  Lips locked, they ignored the new arrival.

Luke turned to him, raising his glass in an ironic welcome. 

"You DO know that people were expecting to see you after your reading?" Luke wasn't angry. It just wasn't in his nature, but he was disappointed.  Tom had been one of the main "attractions" of the evening, hopefully persuading people to part with money to fund the auction bid. 

His absence, whilst easily explained by a generic "previous engagement" had, no doubt, hurt the fundraising. "We'd lined up the great and good to fawn over you while they wrote their disgustingly large cheques.  No you meant a good few were only mildly obscene."

Tom ran a hand round the back of his neck, a familiar gesture to his friend when he felt uncomfortable. He smiled, and a little flushed, muttered something Luke didn't quite catch.

"Sorry? What was that?  An apology and a healthy donation to the fund?  What a GREAT idea!" Luke downed the rest of his drink,  slapped him on the shoulder, and smiled. 

He delved into his pocket and retrieved Tom's wallet and phone.  "You'll be needing these back then, I suppose?" he held them out, and Tom reached to get them.  Instantly, Luke withdrew, staring at the outstretched hand. Tom looked at him, face reddening slightly more. This was an interesting development!

"So WHO is Sophie?  I assume she's your alibi for the last few hours?  C'mon man - spill!" he smiled wickedly, handing the phone and wallet over as Tom grinned.

"Ah well, you see, she's a friend from waaaaay back. Her and my sister used to get up to all sorts.  Even got me grounded for two days once." he found the memory now was tinged with affection, not the harsh bitterness of previous recollections.  It made him smile.

"You? Grounded?  I would never have believed that St. Thomas of Hiddleston was EVER grounded!" Luke laughed and raised a hand in defeat.  "You can tell me all about it another day.  I, for one, need to go home, and you?  You need to go home, get some sleep, write that big fat cheque, and then call Sophie.  A girl doesn't go to the bother of marking her territory if she's not that interested." he winked and walked off, tapping on his phone.  He turned and called back to a still smiling and slightly tipsy Tom.  "I've ordered you an Uber.  Be here in five minutes, see you tomorrow, Cassanova!"

Tom raised his hand in parting and watched as his friend left in his taxi.  Luke was right, wasn't he.  It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Sophie had made sure he had her number, in ink, on his hand. Well, Hiddles, my boy, he said to himself as he climbed into his own transport home, don't waste the opportunity.  She's feisty, she won't be waiting around for you forever, Hollywood star or not.  Sophie would be no pushover.

He had no idea just how true that would turn out to be.

Sophie woke the next morning and groaned.  She was such a lightweight these days. The wine, little of it as there had been, sat heavily on her stomach and her head.  It pounded like someone practising River Dance in her skull. 

She sat up slowly and rubbed her forehead.  Looking around, she decided that the best way to cure her budding hangover was to eat it away.  One thing she'd never suffered from was a lack of hunger after a good session!