We Meet Again (Thomas Shelby)

Chapter Five: Dinner with a Shelby

Sorina's POV:

The time for dinner couldn't have come fast enough. I've done nothing but panic over the smallest things, unable to figure out why. It was just a dinner with Thomas Shelby. I've had many a dinner with this man and every time it ended the same way; parting away as friends. I've never had a reason to fidget with my hair, or my clothing or my makeup. To be fair, it was during a war where I didn't have the luxury of worrying of such ridiculous things; but the fact of the matter is, I wasn't afraid then. However, as the time ticked nearer, my heart started to speed up. 'It's just a dinner.' I continuously remind myself as I stare at my reflection one last time. "Sorina." I looked in the mirror behind me to see Lilith peaking around the door frame. She gave me a weak smile. "Mr. Shelby is here for you, Dear." I gave her a thankful nod before heading down the stairs, immediately seeing Thomas Shelby by the door. He wore an even nicer suit than earlier, not that I thought that was possible. He very clearly has money if he can afford such wonderful clothes. I'll have to ask him what he does while we eat. His bright blue eyes targeted me instantly, damn near leaving me breathless. "Ms. Tempest." He addressed me formally. "Mr. Shelby." He smiled lightly at me before offering his arm towards me. I smiled at him and gently took it, allowing him to escort me out of the bed and breakfast. "You own a vehicle?" I questioned, looking up at him in surprise. "That I do." He said nonchalantly, opening the door for me. I climbed in gracefully, thankful that I didn't fall on my face. For someone with such a reputation as mine, you'd think I wouldn't be as clumsy as I am. Thomas climbed into the drivers side, driving off down the road. "Where are we going, may I ask?" I received no reply. Just a simple glance out of the corner of his eye.

We drove for twenty minutes before we reached our destination; a fancy restaurant on the other side of Birmingham. I've never seen such an extravagant building. Thomas must have seen the shock on my face, because I heard a light chuckle escape his lips. Thomas took my hand and helped me out of the vehicle, bringing me into the building. There were fancy people everywhere, and I began to feel self-conscious in my choice of attire. My dress was the fanciest piece of material I own, which is such a depressing thought while I stare at these women smothered in gold. It's moments like these that make me realize just how simple I am. I felt Thomas' hand touch the small of my back, guiding me to an isolated table in the corner. "Are you uncomfortable?" Thomas asked once we were seated. I shook my head quickly. "Not even a little. It's just...I feel poor walking next to some of these women." I disclosed. He chuckled, taking off his cap to rest on the table. "They're rich from their husbands' money."

"Well, that makes me feel a bit better." I laughed. Thomas stared at me silently, my laughter dying quickly. "How are your wounds, by the way? I never had the opportunity to ask." It was his turn to laugh, much to my confusion. "I didn't invite you to dinner to talk about my wounds, Ms. Tempest."

"Than why did you invite me to dinner, Mr. Shelby?" I challenged with a smile. He narrowed his eyes at me, leaning back in his seat in concentration. "Are you challenging me, Ms. Tempest?" I laced my fingers together, resting my elbows on the table top. "Perhaps." He smirked, seemingly impressed. "I wouldn't challenge a man like me." I raised an eyebrow at him, tilting my head to the side slightly. "And what kind of man are you?" He went quiet, his smile fading fast. It was like my question brought him down to a reality that I was not a part of. This intrigues me. There's something about this man that I don't know, something that everyone else is involved with but me. I must know what it is! "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"I think you're not the man you believe you are." He gave me a confused look. "Just within a day, I've noticed the way people look at you; fear you. You act so collected and unfazed and I think it's because you feel cold." Thomas wouldn't take his eyes off of me; it was as if he was so disassociated that he didn't realize he was staring at me. "People are afraid of you and your aunt Polly, but I don't know why. The Thomas Shelby I met in France brightened any room he was in, smiled even in the darkest moments."