I guess you can say it was fate. Fate in the form of a coffee and a rainy day.
“Can I get a latté?” the man had asked me.
“Sure.” I looked into his blue-green eyes, “Would you like extra espresso?”
“Yes, please.” he put the money on the counter, he was short twenty cents.
“Does anyone have twenty cents?” he asked the other customers, who shook their heads or ignored him completely.
“It’s okay.” I pulled two dimes out of my jean pocket, “I got you covered.”
I gave him his receipt and went to make him his coffee.
“Oh, and Miss..” he called from the counter, “I seen the for sale sign in the window..”
“This place is going to be sold unless I could scrape up enough money for it to stay standing.” I handed him his coffee in its styrofoam cup, “It’s hard running a family business on your own.”
He smiled, sipping his coffee. “This is good… Maybe I could help.”
I laughed, “You would try to save this old place?”
He set his cup down, looking at me seriously. “Of course I would. The service is good here, even for a run down place.”
I smiled, “You’re funny.”
He got out a pen, asking to borrow my hand. He wrote a number down and said, “Give me a call when you need anything.”
Before he left, I asked him his name. “I’m Tom… Tom Hiddleston.”
