Just as Mia thought that her life had moved onto a new chapter that didn't involve Grayson, a handwritten letter from Grayson himself threw everything into a frenzy.
With a choice between beginning a new life free from Grayson's dark world or subme...
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MIA
After work, I wait awkwardly at a table inside Benny's. The establishment boasts pop-art decor and offers a wide array of fast food options. Cheap and convenient to most punters.
I browse the menu but I don't take in the details. It's already gone 6pm and Toby and I agreed that we'd meet at 5.45pm. I'm starting to wonder if he's stood me up.
"Hey Mia!" I look up from the menu and am relieved when I see Toby hurdling towards the table. He looks flustered, but I'm just glad that I didn't have to make a walk of shame out of here on my own. "I'm so sorry I'm late. A meeting ran over."
I smile quickly. "It's okay. I'm still working out what to have," I half-lie. "How was your day?"
Tony quickly takes a seat and grabs a menu. "Chaotic. I'm a PA to the Head of Finance. Money never stops."
I laugh. "No it doesn't."
Toby smiles, setting the menu down and placing our orders with the waiter. Once the waiter moves away, Toby clasps his hands across the table.
"Sorry," he says. "I guess you think this is a little weird."
"Why?"
"Well, I barely know you from Adam. I recognised you from our business lecture but I've come to the conclusion you have no idea who I am."
I giggle nervously just as the waiter places down my Diet Coke. "I guess it's a little weird. But I'm all for making new friends. Sometimes I drift in and out of those lectures without even noticing who's around me. Sorry."
Toby smiles as he lifts his freshly poured beer to his lips. "Don't apologise. I don't expect you to know me. I just saw you that night, and I thought, hey, I've seen this girl around a few times now, so I might as well get to know her."
I smile appreciatively as the waiter sets down our chicken tenders and fries in front of us. "I'm glad you did. You seem like a nice guy." I pop a fry into my mouth.
With a smirk, Toby says, "Oh, but how do you know that I'm not a serial killer?"
"Serial killers don't eat chicken tenders," I counter with menace.
I earn a laugh from Toby, and by the time we've finished our food and the bill arrives, I feel like I've made another friend in this huge city.
"This is on me," Toby says as he whacks a couple of notes down onto the tray. "Thanks for getting to know me."
"Thank you," I say, following Toby out of the restaurant. "That was nice."
Once we're outside, the breeze stings my cheeks and whips my hair around. I tug my jacket a little tighter around myself and turn to face Toby. "It was nice to get to know you Toby."
