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#last night service was very slow and they had updated the menu but honestly the food i was given wasn't anything special?
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Why has going out to eat lately, become a disappointing experience?
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maevefiction · 6 years
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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 8
I managed to wake up on time, despite the fact that I’d forgotten, yet again, to set my alarm. After putting on my glasses, I padded over to the dresser to grab my phone. I checked my notifications as I crawled back under the covers and saw there were four texts waiting for me, three of them from Tom sent late last night.
Meeting’s finito. They dragged us out for drinks. It’s 3:00 AM. I want to see you. – T
Mean Nanny Luke says it’s too late and he hid your room key from me. Asshole. – T
We meeting again with Skull people again at 11 morning tomorrow. 3:17. Bed. Night. – T
I figured he’d still be out cold and I was overwhelmed by the urge to ring his phone and rouse him unpleasantly, solely for my own amusement. I resisted, telling myself that he surely would have turned it off prior to retiring for the night. So tempting, but I decided to take the high road instead.
Good morning, Thomas. Hope you and Luke managed to get some rest and that the meeting goes well. Looking forward to seeing you both later. – M
The fourth was from Anne, sent fifteen minutes ago.
Hey kiddo, I’d love it if you’d give me a call. It’s been entirely too long since we last talked. – A
While it wasn’t a complete surprise to hear from her, given Luke had spoken with her yesterday, I honestly hadn’t expected it to happen so damn soon.  Inhaling deeply through my nose, I closed my eyes for a few moments, exhaled and decided to postpone dealing with it and order breakfast instead.
My stomach grumbled as I reviewed the room service menu, my index finger tapping my lips. I grabbed the in-room phone and dialed, and my call was answered on the first ring by an obnoxiously pleasant-sounding woman.
“Good morning, Ms. Gallagher. What can we get for you today?”
Funny, they hadn’t a clue who I was when I’d ordered in over the weekend. I guess Tom Hiddleston answering your door when a meal for two was delivered elevated one’s social status.
“Good morning to you as well. May I please have an order of Belgian waffles with bacon, a large orange juice and a cup of tea? Earl Grey if you have it, sugar and cream on the side. Thanks!”
There was dead air for a few seconds. “Will that be all?” I rolled my eyes. Subtle, lady, really subtle. Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not here at the moment.
“Yep, that’s if for now, thank you.”
“Your meal should arrive in approximately twenty minutes. Aloha!”
I re-read Anne’s text and sighed, running a hand through my hair. If I called her now I could use the arrival of my meal as an excuse to get off the phone, though twenty minutes could seem like an eternity if the conversation turned to a topic I didn’t care to discuss, which it always seemed to do.
“Come on, Maude. Like a Band-Aid, right off. Pee first, then call. That should waste at least two minutes, more if you walk really slow.”
After the bathroom, I sank down into the oversized wing-back chair, phone in hand. My heart began to pound as I located her in my contacts, under ‘L’ for Lestat because it amused me to no end when ‘Lestat calling…’ came up on my screen. Anne had been a part of my life since I was ten years old. In 1988, only a few months after my parents had moved into the neighborhood, she’d returned to the Garden District of New Orleans. After rejoining the Catholic Church she met my father, a devout Irish Catholic himself, and they became fast friends.
She’d been a friend to me as well, offering unwavering support and becoming my lifeline during some incredibly difficult times. One of the hardest decisions I’d ever had to make was distancing myself from her emotionally in order to force myself to move on as I tried to heal. Though it had been a necessity, I still felt terrible about it, and I deeply missed having her to turn to for comfort.
My hands clenched and grew clammy as the pounding of my heart morphed into a dull, throbbing pain. I silently vowed to cut her off immediately if our chat veered into the past and hit the ‘call’ button.  
“Maudie, honey! You took the job!” I wondered how the fuck she knew that already, then remembered she followed my twitter account and must have read the letter I linked to last night.
“Yes, Anne. I took the job. Though I wasn’t looking for one. And thanks for your glowing recommendation. Which established preconceived expectations that I will never be able to fulfill, by the way.”
“You will not only fulfill them, you will exceed them. Never underestimate your abilities, Maudie. You know better. So who is this Luke fellow? Is he as handsome as he sounds?”
I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to prepare myself for the onslaught of Matchmaking for Maude that was about to ensue. “He is indeed.”
I could picture the sly grin that had surely spread across her face. “So? Is he single?”
“No, Anne. He’s actually engaged.”
“Well, you’re very attractive and, you know, anything can happen…”
“And he’s gay.” I thought that would do the trick. It didn’t.
“You have to introduce him to Christopher.” At least I wasn’t the only victim of her matchmaking…she’d been trying to find Mr. Right for her son as well as me forever.
“I haven’t met his fiancé but I hear they’re deliriously happy. So what’s new with you? How’s my next Lestat installment coming along?”
“I’m still researching some things, but the initial draft is essentially complete. You know, I Googled up Prosper PR and went to the facebook page and that amazingly talented actor, what’s his name…right, Tom Hiddleston, is one of his clients. I would love for him to take on the role of Lestat when the reboot of the Vampire Chronicles gets underway. Will you be working with him? Plant that seed for me, will you? Hmm, maybe he’s single?”
The thought of Tom as Lestat de Lioncourt rendered me mute for a solid thirty seconds, followed by lord knows how many more as I attempted to figure out how to weasel my way around her last question.
“Maudie, are you still on the line?”
“I…erm…yeah. Still here. Sorry, I was…multitasking. I have no idea if he’s single or not.” I was grateful that she couldn’t see my face because she’d know I was full of shit if she got one look at me. “But yes, I am working with him. I’m starting as his social media manager, which he desperately needs because he has issues with keeping his existing accounts updated and his overall presence is lacking, to say the least.  Once I’ve gotten him back on track I transition into the role of social media director for Prosper. But please keep that between us. We haven’t announced anything yet, though we’re meeting tonight to discuss timelines and such.”
She chuckled, and I cringed, realizing that she still knew me entirely too well. “No idea if he’s single or not my ass. Don’t lie to Auntie Anne. You’ve already met him, haven’t you? And he’s a component of the ‘we’ and ‘we’re’, isn’t he?” I said nothing. “That incredibly long pause, in conjunction with your use of ‘am’ as opposed to ‘will be’ working with him gave you away. So, is he as beautiful in person as he is on film? And is his personality as lovely as it appears to be in interviews?”
There was a knock at the door, and my gratitude for the delivery person’s impeccable timing was boundless. “Sorry, my breakfast is here and I have to dash becau…”
She cut me off. “Maude, I did want you to call so I could congratulate you, but I also wanted to speak with you about something else. Your mother…”
I could feel every muscle in my body tensing. “Anne, how many times have I told you that I will NOT disc…”
“Please, hear me out. Her health is failing, Maude.”
“All those years of sucking down bottle after bottle of booze finally catching up with her?” The venom in my voice caught me completely off guard. As much as I insisted to myself that it was all behind me, the reality was that it was always with me, here, in the now… lurking just below the surface, ugly and dark and awful.
“I know, Maude, I know. And I hate to bring it up, but she’s in hospice and, well, I felt compelled to tell you in case you wanted to see her. Before it’s too late.” I counted to ten before I responded, focusing on all the positive things she’d done for me, hoping I could end the call courteously.
“Anne, I have to go. Be well.” I hung up before she could reply…and, thankfully, before I said something I’d wind up regretting.
************************************************** Breakfast was eaten in silence, but I’d showered and gotten ready with my iPod cranking out tunes from my ‘Fuck Off’ playlist. I’d even done a passable job on covering up the hickey. I frowned when I glanced at the clock. It was only 8:15, and I knew I had to keep moving or I’d start thinking again. As I stood on the balcony, gazing out at the azure water rolling in and out, I determined that a walk on the beach might be an ideal distraction.
Shoes in hand, messenger bag slung across my chest, I wandered down as far as I could go without getting soaked by the lapping waves. I breathed in, then out, in, and out, ever so slowly, trying to match the rhythm of the ocean. The sun warmed my face, my hands, my feet, my body…but it couldn’t quite reach into my heart. I closed my eyes and lowered my chin to my chest, using nothing but the sheer force of my will to shove the anger and pain back in the box I’d crafted for it so long ago.
I remained stock-still until the tide of somber memories began to ebb, carrying them further and further away from me, back into the turbulent sea of my past…where they fucking belonged. Always a part of me, but no longer controlling me.    
My eyes opened slowly as I raised my head, and I bent down to pick up a handful of sand, letting it sift through my fingers, just as I had less than forty-eight hours before. Everything I’d overcome, the life I’d made for myself, and the promise of what was to be hit me all at once and I could feel the corners of my mouth curl up in a tiny smile. I stood, took one last look at the ocean, then turned around and headed for the conference room.
I checked my phone as I slowly worked my way down the hall, deleting five new texts from Anne without reading them. Nothing from Tom, which I fully expected. He was probably still sound asleep, all cozy and warm. Bastard. I put the phone away and pulled out my tablet to check my email, cursing myself for not doing so since Monday afternoon. One hundred and fifty-eight messages in my inbox. Fuck. I scrolled down as I walked, starring items that were urgent, until I collided with another body. My tablet went flying, landing on the floor behind me. I bent to grab it without looking up, apologizing.
“I am SO sorry…totally my fault. Reading and walking is not my forte, apparently.” I turned as I rose, and the device fell from my hands and back onto the floor as I realized just whose body I’d run into.
He was wearing black shorts, a white T-shirt and a black sweatshirt that he’d left unzipped, the hood up over his head. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he quickly removed them as he spoke softly. “Good morning.”
He leaned down and picked up my tablet, slipping it into my messenger bag before encircling me with his arms. I slid mine under his sweatshirt, ran my hands up his back ever so slowly, finally coming to rest on his shoulder blades.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you, but what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing up and about? It’s only 8:30. You’ve got another hour and a half to sleep, at least.” He bent to kiss me instead of replying, parting my lips gently with his tongue, then delving in to explore as his hands fell to my hips and pulled me against him. He was commando again, and rock hard. I groaned and broke the kiss, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Christ, do you even own a pair of underwear?” He laughed, then flinched. I slipped my right arm out from under his sweatshirt and gently grabbed his chin as I inspected his face. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes that made him look bruised. “You appear to be significantly worse for wear since we last met, sir. Do I need to have a word with the gentlemen from Legendary?”  
He began rubbing small circles on my lower back with one hand. “Honestly, I’d seriously consider having you stand in for me at today’s meeting if you didn’t have prior obligations.” He took the hand that held his chin and brought it to his lips, then sighed. “They just kept buying round after round…Luke and I could barely keep up. We got mortifyingly clobbered at pool and darts. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I fished a bottle of water from my bag and offered it to him. “Here. Drink.” He stared at me, pouting.
“But I’ll have to let go of you in order to open it. And I don’t want to.” I shoved it back in my bag. He brought me in closer, bending to nuzzle my neck. “I hope my late night texts didn’t disturb your rest.”
“I didn’t hear a thing. Wish I had, though. I would have told you to get your ass up the stairs and into my bed.” He snickered, and I felt his teeth tug at my earlobe. I wiggled my hips against him. “Thank you for the note, by the way.”
He pulled back to look at me and smiled timidly. “Did you like it?”
“No.” His eyes widened, and I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I loved it. So much so that I held it in my hand while I slept.” He grasped the back of my neck, fingers easing into my hair as he pressed his lips to mine, both of our mouths falling open, tongues colliding. I sucked on his lower lip, sliding my leg up to wrap around him as he bucked against me. We froze at the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. I leaned sideways to peek around Tom and found Serena staring back at me.
I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand, then wiped my hand on my tunic as I stepped away from Tom. He took it in his and turned around to face her with me. My brow furrowed as I wondered what the fuck one was supposed to say in this sort of situation. Should I apologize? Should I pretend it hadn’t happened? It appeared that Tom had no clue, either. Serena burst out laughing and patted me on the shoulder.
“Good morning, Maude. I should probably give you a lecture and tell you to get a room, but I won’t because my god, the two of you are just so adorable. Dante’s loading the rest of our equipment onto the dolly. He should be here in a sec.” She opened the doors of the conference room, engaging the stoppers so they’d remain that way, then entered and began rearranging a few pieces of furniture.
I turned to Tom, shaking my head. “Public indecency. Told you so. I’m a ticking time bomb.” He smirked.
“I’m afraid I must leave you to your work, Maude. It would appear that something’s come up and needs my immediate attention.” He pulled at his shorts, adjusting himself as he whispered in my ear. “Though it would most certainly prefer your attention.” I pinched his nipple, delighting at his gasp.
“No one likes a tease, Thomas.” Dante was quickly approaching. I sighed. “On with the show, I guess.”
Tom pulled me to his chest and kissed my forehead. “Last one. And then you’re all mine.”
I poked his chest. “You need to go right now or I’m going to disappoint two hundred people when I run off with you.” He grinned. “Good luck with your meeting. I’ll see you at 4:15. Be ready to hula.”
“Oh, I’ll be ready. And I’ll bet you dinner that you can’t get Luke to join in.”
“Well, in that case, you’d better make sure there’s lots of room on your credit card, sunshine.”
“Not necessary. Won’t ever happen.” He waved as he turned and walked down the hall. I called after him.
“You are so very, very wrong.” I watched him go, biting down on my thumb. Sex on legs. Absolute truth. Serena spoke from behind me.
“Maude, Dante needs you to stand on a few marks.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
“If he happens to come back before we leave, would you mind terribly if I asked him for a pic with me?” A light blush colored her cheeks. I laughed, shaking my head.
“Nope. Not one single bit.”
************************************************** It seemed as if it was over as soon as it began, and I even managed to keep my shit together when the attendees gave me a send-off standing ovation at the end of the last lecture hour. Though my emotions were mixed about being done with something that had kept me going for so long, I couldn’t help but feel…free.
Tom had stopped in during our first break, transformed from hung over frat boy to runway model after a hot shower, a huge breakfast and a gorgeous charcoal bespoke suit. He hadn’t worn a tie, and his white dress shirt was open at the neck. It took five tries on my part to get a decent shot of him and Serena, mainly because she kept looking at him instead of the camera, but my shaking hands factored in as well. I’d need to get over that shit pronto if I was going to be on photography duty for the foreseeable future. She asked if she could post it online, and I told her it was fine as long as she didn’t include location details.
It was 4:08 when I got back to my room, leaving me just enough time to change into my hiking shorts and vintage X-Files T-shirt. I did a little happy dance at the prospect of being able to spend more time in casual clothes…I’d amassed quite a collection of graphic tees over the years that I hardly ever got to wear, and now that a good portion of my work would be behind the scenes, I could.
“Well, that’s a fucking plus I hadn’t even considered. Comfy clothes, baby. Bring it on!” I ended the dance with a fist in the air as I entered the bathroom. I put my hair up in a ponytail, not even bothering to brush it first. My black Rio Birkenstocks were nowhere to be found, and, thinking about it, I hadn’t seen them since Monday. After tearing the rest of room apart, I spotted them in the little open cubby under one of the nightstands where Tom must have tucked them when he did my laundry. I strapped them on, grabbed my wallet, keys, phone,  and iPod from my bag and stuffed them in my pockets, making up a little song as I danced some more.
“I love pants with pockets and I can wear them all the time and that is fucking cool because…shit. Because I’m a mime? Because I like to rhyme? Damn, I used to be GOOD at this. Ah, fuck it. POCKETS!”
One of the things I abhorred most about dress clothing was the lack of pockets. Carrying any type of bag made me feel weighed down, plus they always either fell off my shoulder or smacked me in the ass as I walked, yet I had stuff that needed to be stored somewhere. Men’s pants had the best pockets, and I often opted for those over the women’s version.
I took a last look at my reflection in the mirror. “Off you go, Maude. New chapter and all that.” I opened the room door and meandered down the steps, hand trailing along the rail. Tom and Luke were waiting for me outside their suites.
I flung my arms out to the side. “Who’s ready to HULA?!”
Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as Tom raised his hand and shouted, “I AM, I AM!”
I put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Come on, Luke, let your hair down a little.” He snorted.
“I tried that last night and found it to be rather disadvantageous.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Tom smirked at me and mouthed ‘this is a bet you cannot win’. I threw him double birds. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to his rental car dangling them in front of me.
“Shall we?” I shook my head.
“Let’s take my Jeep. Feel the breeze. Be rugged.” Luke held up his hand.
“Please, no. The jouncing around might kill me.” I huffed.
“Fine, fine. Have it your way. But if the car has an auxiliary jack you might be sorry I acquiesced.”
He was indeed sorry, as Tom and I sang the entire 11 minutes it took to get to the Kaua’i Museum. Towards the end of Pharell’s ‘Happy’ he appeared to be contemplating opening the door and leaping into traffic.
“I’m not sure what’s making me more nauseated…the hangover or the two of you caterwauling up there.” I reached back to pat his knee.
“I promise I’m not always this obnoxiously elated, Luke. I’m just on a quit-my-old-job-today-and-have-a-super-cool-new-one high. It won’t last.”
He nodded his head. “Mmm hmm. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with our chauffer.”
I glanced over at Tom, put my hand to the side of my mouth and looked back at Luke, whispering. “He is awfully pretty, isn’t he?” He rested his head in his hands as the car made an abrupt right turn into the museum parking lot.
It was a lovely place, located on Rice Street in the Albert Spencer Wilcox and William Hyde Rice buildings. Hula classes were conducted by members of the Daughters or Hawai’i in the courtyard, as the museum itself closed at five. There were a total of eleven of us, and just as Tom predicted, Luke immediately sat on the sidelines while the rest of us gathered around the instructor. Her name was Iolana and she appeared to be in her late fifties. As she explained that hula is a dance accompanied by a chant (oli) or song (mele), the dance portraying the words in a visual format I stared at Luke and tapped my foot.
Iolana asked us all to move behind her, at least three feet apart, and I flung my hand out at Luke and then pointed to the open space next to me. He shook his head. I pouted. Then I put my hands together, silently begging, mouthing ‘please?’ while batting my eyelashes. No way in hell was I losing this bet. He sighed, put his chin on his chest and hefted himself out of the chair to join us. I turned to Tom and stuck my tongue out. He shook his head and stepped closer so he could whisper in my ear.
“He hasn’t actually danced yet, Maude.” I slapped his arm.    
We were instructed to stand with feet apart, left knee bent and our hands on our hips, then step with our left foot and slide our right foot next to the left, bending that knee. The process was repeated in the opposite direction. After we mastered the steps, it was time for some hip action…raising it in time with and in the opposite direction of the step, keeping both knees bent. Iolana turned to check our progress and immediately went to Luke, putting her hands on his hips and pushing them in the correct direction. I turned to Tom and grinned. He shook his finger at me.
“He’s not using his hands.” I rolled my eyes. Iolana had moved back to the front to continue the lesson. One arm bent at the elbow in front of the body, the other extended out from it in the direction of the step, head facing that way as well, fingers together and hands moving at the wrists like a wave. Again, the process was repeated in the opposite direction when moving that way.
Iolana taught us a few more arm motions and explained what they meant, advising that they were only the chorus of a mele called Eleile, which we’d be ‘telling’ over and over for the duration of the class, then turned on the music. I glanced at Luke, then turned to Tom and started doing alternating wave motions rapidly with my hands in front of me. He tilted his head.
“That doesn’t look like a legitimate hula hand motion, Maude.” I grinned.
“It’s not. Do you want to know what it means?”
“No.”
“Sure you do. It’s my visual interpretation of ‘you lose, sucker’.” I thumbed in Luke’s direction. He was dancing, and it looked like he might even be enjoying it a little. Tom hung his head in defeat, and I tried to refrain from drooling as I watched him roll his hips. I kept missing steps and had to close my eyes in order to focus. The tempo of the music increased, and without the distraction of keeping an eye on Luke or ogling Tom I completely lost myself in the dance. It was an incredible feeling, moving faster, back and forth, the rhythm and motions of my body conveying this brief chapter of a story via a method that had been used for generations, dating back to ancient times when indigenous peoples worshiped volcano goddesses.  
I heard clapping, faint at first but louder as more people joined in. I opened my eyes, discovering that I was the only one still dancing other than Iolana. And that everyone was staring at me. I stopped. A huge grin spread across her face.
“Miss, where did you study hula, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I swallowed. “I’m Maude. And, just here. I’ve never done it before.”
Her eyes widened. “Well, Miss Maude, it’s very unusual for someone to catch on so quickly, especially a first-timer. I guess you’re just a natural.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You dance beautifully, my dear. I’m sure your boyfriend would agree.” She smirked knowingly at Tom, then began to circulate amongst the other participants, stopping to speak to Luke first.
Boyfriend. Is that what he is? I turned to face Tom, and what I saw in his eyes was overwhelming. Desire, passion, admiration, awe, joy, and something else that I didn’t think I was ready or willing to hang a name on quite yet. I waved self-consciously.
“Hi there.” I watched him take several deep breaths, and I noticed he had his phone in his hand.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, did you film that?!” He nodded. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. He pulled them away gently, and now that he was right in front of me I could see his eyes shone with tears.
“Sorry. My original intent was to video Luke so I could email it to Simon, which I did, but then you…and I had to. It was one of the most breathtaking things I’ve ever seen. Here, watch it.” I shook my head.
“Nope. Maybe later.” He reached out to touch my face, fingers feathering over my cheekbone and down to my jaw.
“Alright. Later. But I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. The rest of us, we were just moving. But you, you told a story. An ancient, timeless story.” He waved to get Iolana’s attention. She excused herself from her chat with two older ladies and came over to us.
“Hello, Iolana. I’m Tom.” She shook his proffered hand. “Do you happen to have an English translation of the chorus you taught us today?”
“Yes, I do. Right up here.” We followed her to the table that held her portable stereo and paperwork. She pulled a sheet out of a purple folder. “I’m so pleased you’re interested in learning more. An hour is such a short period of time and I have to focus intently on the dancing, so I rarely get to talk about the song itself. This is the chorus of the mele. Eleile is a dark swirling pool on Maui, also known as the water that returns the ti. It is customary to break a ti leaf stalk and throw it into the pool. As the water swirls, the leaves are unfurled, then pushed back into a long, tight bud.” She handed it to him. He read it, then passed it to me without saying a word. I read it. Then I re-read the chorus again. And again.
Dark is the water of Eleile The cold dwelling place of the mist It is made warm by love That stood close at my side
I felt his hand on my forearm. I refused to look away from the words on the paper. He spoke, voice fraught with emotion he struggled to contain.
“Looks like you were telling our story.” My hands were shaking, eyes still fixed on the mele chorus. He put his on top of them, steadying me. “When you danced…I swear I could see your soul. And oh, how it called to me, Maude.”
Silence surrounded us, and as I raised my gaze I noted that everyone was staring at me. Again. I inhaled, then let it out with a whoosh as my eyes found his. I still couldn’t quite manage to form words. He took a step closer to me, moving his hands to my shoulders.
“I know it’s only been two days since we met, and that you’ll very well likely think me certifiably insane for saying this, and perhaps I am, but every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do so and sometimes you just have to fight your fears and say fuck it, come on, so…Maude, I am totally, completely, utterly, madly in love with you.”
My mouth dropped open, then closed as I bit my lower lip. Right. Fight my fears. Sure. Fuck it, why not? I shrugged. “Well, Thomas, in that case we’d best pick out some matching straitjackets because I, too, have clambered aboard the crazy train. Wildly, wholly, entirely, absofuckingloutely in love. With you.”
He kissed me, briefly, sweetly. The tiny crowd oohed and ahhed, then began to disperse. As we said our goodbyes and thanks to Iolana Luke came over, phone raised, smiling. I rolled my eyes.
“Let me guess. You filmed all of that. What is with you people?” He laughed, and I shook my head. “Well, now we have even more details to discuss. And I want pizza. Can we get pizza? Let’s get pizza. LOTS of pizza. Tom’s even buying. Right, Tom? Or was all this a distraction so you could welsh out on our bet?”
He put his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head as we exited the courtyard. “You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What bet?”
I looked at Tom. “You tell him.”
He shook his head. “I’m not telling him.”
Luke ran in front of us, stopped, arms crossed. “Someone had better tell me.”
We remained silent and walked around him to the car. Luke groaned as he got in. “Already conspiring against me. Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’m going to order ten fucking pizzas, just for spite.”
He took out his phone, clicked something, and the sounds of hula music filled the vehicle.
“Thomas William Hiddleston, did you send Simon a video of me doing the hula?” Tom started to chuckle.
“Me? Why on earth would you think I’d do such a thing?”
Luke snorted. “Because you fucking did, that’s why. Hmm, I think I’m starting to see how this went down. Your bet involved whether or not I’d dance. Maude suckered me into it and won. Tom, I’m going to kick your ass when we get out of this car. Maude, I’m impressed. Mildly disappointed in your behavior, but impressed just the same. And Simon says to tell you you’re a wonderful dancer.”
I turned to see Luke’s phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon’s face. I got lucky…it was his lock screen background, or so I assumed. “Is that Simon?” He nodded and passed me the phone. “Damn, Luke, he’s gorgeous.” Luke grinned.
“Even more so in person. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow. He’s flying out to stay for a bit. In the beach house we’ll all be sharing.”
I turned to Tom, tilting my head quizzically. “Um, beach house? What beach house?”
He smirked, then shrugged. “What can I say? The meetings with the Legendary people went well. Really, really well.”
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