The Waitress

Now We're Getting Somewhere

Tom sightings had been sparse that week.

So sparse as to be nonexistent.

No smiling face on Tuesday morning or this morning during the Saturday morning rush.

James was beginning to think he'd frightened the man off.

They were only here for three weeks now and then, he believed, for five weeks after Christmas.

There had been other members of the cast on this busy Saturday morning. The leading lady and two of the character actors and Liam had been in a couple of times – once to pick up two takeaway coffees and some cheese cake. It seemed someone had become addicted to their cheesecake.

Yes, Blue Wave was collecting celebrities like flies round a garbage bin.

But no actual Tom.

Mells was taking it well though.

He supposed he'd made more out of it than there was.

She called him her muse and she was writing plenty, so maybe that was the main thing. That was all that mattered and this old romantic had to pull his head in and get on with life. And life was good – well it would be better if he could see more of Phillipe, be more than just two ships passing in the night, but they had a two- year plan and clear goals in mind. And so, did Mells.

And they didn't include a man.

Certainly not a handsome (and whatever Johnny continued to say – the man was damn sweet) British actor.

She was working out well here and enjoying it. It had been just two weeks and yet James couldn't imagine life without her. Though of course he would see her less when university started.

She'd been accepted.

She'd be writing, studying and working. Too busy for a man.

And of course, Tom didn't live here.

No, she was right he wouldn't do.

He wouldn't, he thought as he put together a couple of salads for him and the staff after the rush. It was overcast now. Steamy but grey. Actually, mainly the way he liked the spring/summer Gold Coast weather. It was a little early for the afternoon storm but he could feel one coming in. It was that kind of day the kind of day where everything is going along in one direction and then "BAM" the storm hit.

And then it happened.

Bam!

The storm hit.

Or in this case the "Tom".

Holy shit.

Two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon and he'd just walked through the door.

The prodigal son.

The man of the hour.

And of course, Mel had ducked off to the loo. Tom Hiddleston was in the house and Melody Taylor was in the ladies.

He'd taken his usual table and was unfurling his laptop. Placing it on the table in front of him.

James couldn't speak he was so excited.

And there was Jaz, heading to take his order.

Oh shit.

"Jaz can you come here for a moment," James called across the now virtually empty café. She motioned to the new customer and her boss shook his head, quickly, jerkily, motioning her towards him. Jaz looked confused, surely a new customer needed to be attended to – customers kept waiting were James' pet hate. He was a stickler for prompt service.