ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴊᴀᴍᴇs

2

It was, to put it as an understatement, an awkward walk back to the shop. Once I've finally opened up the place and switched on the artificial lights, the man takes a seat at a table in the middle of the room, which strikes me as odd. Usually, customers didn't like being in the center, where some might feel more vulnerable, and took to the sides of the shop, near the windows. It's like he does not want to be noticed. At least from the street view, that is. He had subtly hid his face from me on the walk here, and he has not removed his cap since. I offer to take his soaking slicker, but he politely declines. I sit down across from him and clasp my hands.

"You're n-not really an officer, are you?" A deep chuckle leaves him.

"What gave it away?"

"Don't you show a badge or something when you claim you're part of the police force?"

"I guess you're right."

"I usually am." What am I doing? Stupid, stupid, stupid... I tilt my head. Wait a minute. "May I ask, why are you being so secretive?" I reach over and lift the damp cap off of his head, and slowly, he looks up at me, expression as if he was bracing himself. I drop the cap promptly on the table.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Sebastian Stan is sitting across the table from me. The Sebastian Stan. In my tea shop. He attempts a smile.

"Surprise?" I quickly shut my gaping mouth.

"Am I dreaming? You're gonna tell me that this is a dream, right?" His smile grows as he reaches over to pinch my hand.

"You tell me." A million thoughts battle for their place in my mind, but I force myself to take a quiet, deep breath. The expression on my face must be close to incredulous, because he begins laughing at the whole prospect like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"Wait... oh my gosh, that explains the watch!" My eyes widen in realization. "The watch! You just gave up a Rolex to... how am I ever going to repay you-" The famous actor shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe some service? I've heard that the tea here is excellent." I lean back into my chair, crossing my arms.

"That's only because you've heard it from me."

"Not necessarily. I've got friends around here that have mentioned this shop before." The idea that Sebastian Stan's friends have ordered tea here and that I possibly served them and that they recommended this place to him... just - ahhh. It's just too much. I put on my most casual smile.

"Okay then... which tea would you like?"

"I actually prefer coffee myself." I toss him a Really? look.

"You know, this is a tea shop. You might have to compromise." He smirks.

"I'll do my best, then. Which would you recommend?"

"For an extremely busy actor like yourself, I would suggest a chamomile chai. It's very calming."

"Oh, so are we stereotyping now?" He replies teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no," I quickly put in, "I was merely just... reading between the lines." Sebastian cocks his head, features suddenly unreadable.

"You know at this point, the majority of girls I meet simply squeal and ask for a picture. You skipped that step." I shrug. I would be lying if I said the thought has not crossed my mind.

"Well, I guess I'm not the majority." Sebastian folds his hands on the table.

"How about we just pretend I'm not actually who I'm?" My brow furrows.