For the Love (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 1

       Emeline Harris stared at her date.  She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.  It wasn’t really that he was all that good looking either, but there was just something magnetic about him.  She hadn’t checked her phone once that entire evening even though her editor, Scotty, had threatened her with bodily harm if she didn’t respond to her text messages. Emeline just hadn’t cared.  The man sitting across from her was surprising.  He was interesting, funny, and genuinely seemed like a nice person.  And it didn’t hurt that he had a British accent either.  Emeline knew she could abstain from most girly clichéd weaknesses when it came to men but accents were another thing entirely.
       “You are quite lovely, Emeline.” He said, flashing her a smile.  His teeth were perfectly straight and white.
        He had shown up at her door with roses.  Roses! Who did that anymore? She couldn’t remember the last time she had received roses.  Maybe never.  Some week old carnations, maybe.  Men in Los Angeles were either completely rich, self obsessed and self absorbed or completely lost, clueless and homeless.  There wasn’t much in between.  But her date tonight, he was something else.  He held open doors, he was wearing a nice suit.  She would have to thank her sister, Lucia, later.  It would be painful, but she at least owed Lucia a phone call.  Lucia had begged Emie to consider going on a date with Johnny.  After weeks and weeks of nudging and hinting, Emie had finally agreed, half heartedly. Now, she was planning out some kind of elaborate gift basket to send her.
       “Thank you.” She felt herself blush. What?! She didn’t blush. She wasn’t a blushing kind of girl. “Please, call me Emie. Only my mother calls me Emeline.” She smiled.  Johnny nodded, then reached over the table and took her hand. His hands were warm, strong.
       “This is has been quite an evening.” He squeezed gently.  Emie wondered if it were the two glasses of wine she’d had, or if she was really considering inviting him back to her apartment.  Oh, it had been so long.  Mostly by choice, but if she was going to be completely honest, also because of lack of options.  The delivery guy last week had given her the eye, but Emie didn’t quite like the idea of doing it doggy style in the back of his brown delivery truck.
       “It has.  I’ve really enjoyed myself—“ Emie started, before being interrupted by a loud ringing. 
       “Oh, excuse me.” He said, his eyes brightening.  He reached into his designer suit jacket and pulled out his iPhone.  Johnny turned his back slightly, murmuring into his phone.  Emie took the opportunity to check her phone as well.  Three texts messages from Scotty, one text from Lucia.  She opened the message from Lucia, leaving Scotty to plan her massacre as she pleased.
       How is it going? Lucia asked, her text message followed by a series of smiley faces with hearts for eyes.  Emie rolled her eyes, but smiled.
       Great. I will call you later.  He’s…really amazing. She responded quickly, and then tucked her phone back into her clutch, just as Johnny was finishing his conversation.
       “So sorry. My apologies.” Johnny smiled. 
       “No problem.” She shrugged.  If his only fault was taking a quick call at dinner, then that was something she could live with.  “I was wondering if—“
       “Emie, I just wanted to talk to you about something.” Johnny said, interrupting her and holding up a hand.  He smiled.  Emie sat up, nodding.  She absently tugged at the straps of her dress, hoping she wasn’t showing too much cleavage.  Sure it had been awhile, but she wasn’t desperate.  Not quite yet.
       “Sure, anything, Johnny.”
       “I just…” He looked at her then, his dark eyes kind and glittering.  “I haven’t been totally honest.” He said, and something suddenly changed about him.  Emie frowned.  His voice had changed.  He…he didn’t sound the same anymore.  What had happened to his accent?
       “What…” She stuttered, tilting her head.
       “I think you’re really great, but I gotta be honest with you.” Long gone was the sophisticated British accent.  In it’s place was something much more harsh, much more like…something straight out of Jersey Shore.
       “What is going on?!” Emie said, trying not to raise her voice.
       “Calm down,” He said, holding up his hands.
       “You have thirty seconds.” She said through gritted teeth.  Was this a joke? Was she on Punk’d? Was that even a tv show anymore?
       “I’m an actor.”
       “You better keep explaining.”
       “I met Lucia on a set.  She’s a great girl.  She told me about you, and not that you’re not great and all but…my manager told me I need to work on my voice…for auditions—“
       Emie felt her blood start to boil.  She leaned forward, nearly across the table, her eyes narrowing.
       “Are you using this date to practice for an audition?!” She kept her voice low.  The last thing she needed was a scene and then tomorrow tabloids splashed with her name and whoever this asshole was.  She wasn’t necessarily a celebrity, but sometimes having the same last name as her sister was both a blessing and a curse.  When it came to paparazzi, it was a curse.
       “I mean, that sounds kind of harsh, but, I needed to see if I could pull it off without you knowing, and I guess I kinda did…” He gave a little chuckle, as if this were the most hilarious thing in the world.  “It’s a period piece—“
       “No, no, no.” Emie stood up, not letting him finish.  She grabbed her purse, and her light dress coat off the back of her chair.  LUCIA! This was the absolute last time she let her sister set her up with one of her neurotic, self obsessed, insane actor friends.
       “Emie, come on! I’m still a good guy.  Let’s go back to my place, the date doesn’t have to be over.” He offered, scooting back in his chair. 
       “HAH! You should be a comedian, really.” Emie groaned, walking away from the table, her heels clicking on the wood floor.
       “Call me?!” She heard him call out, just as she reached the front door of the small restaurant.  That jersey accent was going to haunt her dreams.