For the Love (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 3

    Emie pulled at the hem of her dress.  This had been one of Lucia’s designer samples that had actually fit her, but it was snug and rather short.  She had almost worn it to her date with Johnny the other night and now she was thankful she hadn’t.  No use in wasting such a gorgeous dress on such a dud of a date. 
        Lucia had gushed over her when she had shown up at the restaurant that evening.  It was a sort of pre-wedding dinner, with all of Lucia and Chris’ close friends in attendance.  They were at the Chateau Marmont, which was a celebrity hot spot.  Emie hated it.  Sure, it was beautiful and the food and service were top notch, but there was always desperate actors, or equally desperate paparazzi waiting just outside the hotel.
       “You look amazing, Emie! Gorgeous.” She said, making her spin around.  The dress was gorgeous.  It had all over coral colored Chantilly lace, with a cream colored satin underneath.  The lace lay perfectly on her collar bone and ended just above her elbows on the sleeves. The hem hit a bit above her knees.
       “You look beautiful too.” She said, pulling back and looking at her sister.  Lucia was wearing a long, ivory silk dress that looked like liquid on her. It almost flowed off her tan skin, making her glow.  Being engaged was a good look for Lucia.
       “Beautiful ladies!” A deep voice, tinged with a somewhat gruff Australian accent called out from behind the women.  They turned around and Chris joined them, wearing a dark blue suit.  His hair was longer, mostly for his current movie franchise.  He still looked handsome though, a bit rough around the edges and rather large.
       “Hi Chris.” Emie grinned, giving her soon to be brother in law a hug.  Over his shoulder, she mouthed the words ‘Oh my god!’ to Lucia, as she happily squeezed his biceps.  Lucia held back a laugh, shaking her head.
       “Would you like a drink? Champagne? We’re going to get started on dinner soon.  We’re just waiting for a few people to get here.” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow at his still giggling fiancé and her laughing sister.  Emie nodded, accepting a glass of champagne with fruit in it from a waiter.
       “How many people are coming?” She asked, taking a sip.  Delicious.  The bubbles fizzed in her mouth, and the strawberry reduction swirling in the glass made it perfectly sweetened.
       “About twenty.  Just an intimate dinner.” Lucia grinned as a few more friends showed up.  She immediately walked to them, welcoming them to the party.  All the women were stunning.  Their makeup perfectly done, their dresses gorgeous and in the peak of fashion.  The men all wore tailored suits.  These people made it look effortless and yet somehow Emie had spent three hours that night getting ready.
       “Intimate, indeed.” Emie said under her breath.  She took a gulp of champagne, knowing it would help her get through the night.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like Chris and Lucia’s friends.  She just wasn’t big on large crowds, and she knew that Lucia expected a speech out of her by the end of the night.  She wasn’t sure if the champagne would help or impede that.
       “Easy girl, it’ll be alright.” Chris said, leaning down and whispering in her ear as he walked by.  He squeezed her arm gently and gave her a quick smile. She returned the smile, but then finished her glass.  He really was a great guy. Sweet, smart and he loved her sister.  Wasn’t that really all someone could ask for?
       Emie grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.  It looked like Lucia had rented out an entire room, along with the gardens outside.  She wondered if they would eat inside or out.  It was a beautiful, somewhat mild California night but she hadn’t brought a wrap or anything that went with her dress.  She knew it was going to get cooler as the sun went down.
       She took another sip of champagne and was about to walk over to her sister, when a hand grabbed her from behind.
       “Emeline?” A voice said hesitantly.  It wasn’t just any voice though. It was someone with a thick, Jersey accent.
       “Oh dear god.” Emie groaned under her breath.  She turned around.  Johnny.
       “I thought that was you.” When he said ‘that was you’ it sounded more like ‘dat wuzjew’.  Emie forced a smile.
       “Hi, Johnny.”
       “Are you still pissed about the other night? C’mon.” He said, shrugging his broad shoulders.  Emie sighed, shifting her weight to the side and sticking out her leg.
       “Pissed? No. Why would I be mad.  Annoyed? Maybe. You did waste about two hours of my time, faking an accent and god knows what else.” She said, looking him up and down.  He was on the shorter side, just an inch or two above her 5’6” frame.  “I just love being someone’s practice audition.” She said, crossing her arms under her breasts.  Johnny smiled, a half crooked smile that she was sure had to have gotten him at least one or two jobs.  He was good looking, sure.  But he was a sociopath.
       “Does it make you feel any better if I tell you I got the job?” He asked, holding open his arms as if she would screech and jump into them from excitement. She took a step away from him.
       “Are you here for Lucia and Chris?” She asked, hesitating.  She found it hard to believe Lucia would invite him.
       “Yeah, sort of.  Lucia mentioned it to me the other day. But I’m here with some buddies too.” Johnny said, picking up a beer from a nearby table and taking a sip.  Emie drained the rest of her second glass of champagne.  She looked around desperately for another waiter.
       “Whatta you say? Wanna try it out again? You look smoking in that dress, by the way.” Johnny said, but Emie was already walking away.  Lucia! Always trying to be a matchmaker.  Always trying to get Emie to give total losers a second change.  She clenched her hands into fists, walking as fast as she could in her tight dress, away from Johnny.  She had already told Lucia that Johnny was a definite ‘No’ and yet she just couldn’t help herself. 
       “Lucia!” She exclaimed, looking around wildly for her meddling older sister.  Nowhere.
       “Whoa, what’s going on?” Chris said, coming out of nowhere. He was a good buffer between Emie and Lucia at times that this and he knew it.  He was a calming force.
       “Where is my sister.” She said it as more of a statement then a question.
       “I believe she is getting a drink.”
       “I need to go strangle her.”
       “Can I ask you not to do that?” Chris said, tilting his head.  Emie sighed, crossing her arms.
       “She’s ridiculous sometimes.”
       “I know, but she means well.” He said, nodding toward a waiter who immediately brought over more champagne.  Emie took it from him, thanking him.
       “She makes me furious.” Emie groaned, all the fire leaving her.  Chris laughed, patting her on the arm.
       “She is good at that.  Listen, why don’t you go out into the garden and get some fresh air.  Cool off, and I’ll go find her and send her out in a second.” Chris offered.  Emie nodded, suddenly realizing how flushed she felt.  Possibly the champagne, possibly her fading anger.
       “Okay.  Thank you.” She nodded, and turned, walking toward the French doors that took her to the terrace area.  The air outside was definitely chillier than when she had arrived at the restaurant.  It was still nice out though, and the sun was leaving orange, yellow and purple streaks in the sky.  She sighed, feeling  a bit more at ease.  Walking quietly over to the far side of the terrace, Emie leaned against a stone wall, looking over a large overhang that dropped down the side of the cliff.  She could see a good portion of Hollywood from that high.
       “Emie, I’m really sorry.  If you’d only give me another chance.” The voice came from directly behind her.  Was this a joke? She spun around, glaring at Johnny.
       “Johnny, really…I’m sorry, but no. You messed up.  I don’t date actors anyway. And, I’m not a goddamn audition!” She said, exasperated.  He slumped, looking defeated.
       “You’re hot though.”
       “Yeah, well there are a lot of hot girls in California.  I’m sure you’ll find someone else.”
       “Yeah but not the sister of Lucia Harris.” He muttered under his breath, walking away as he did.  Emie’s eyes got big, and she had to bite back a swear word directed at him.  So the truth came out.  He was just looking for a bump in the business.  He’d get famous by mere association.  Emie groaned, turning back around and taking a drink from her glass.  What an asshole.  It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but he got points for being so persistent.
       Emie leaned against the wall, feeling the cool, rough stone under her palms.  California was a beautiful state.  There was so much to do and so much to see.  She knew she was lucky.  She was greatful for all she had.  She loved being a writer.  She loved her sister.  She was just fed up with all the fakeness.  All the ulterior motives.  She groaned softly, suddenly feeling a hundred years old.  Her feet ached in her four inch heels.  She was getting cold.  Where was Lucia?  Maybe Chris had forgotten to tell her to come outside. 
       “That was quite remarkable.” A voice said, cutting through her thoughts.  Emie spun around, about to smack Johnny in the face.  Did the man not get a hint?!
       Except it wasn’t Johnny.  The man that stood a few feet away from her was very tall and lean.  He was wearing a slim fitting gray suit jacket with dark pants.  He seemed to be all long, strong legs and broad shoulders.
       “What?” She asked, her brow furrowing.
       “That spectacular rejection you just handed to that young bloke.” He said, taking a step forward.  He had a British accent, which for some reason raised warning bells in Emie’s mind.
       “Well, he deserved it.” She said, narrowing her eyes. He smiled then, and for a second it caught Emie off guard.  He had quite an amazing smile.  It lit up his whole face, and made the sides of his eyes crinkle.  Someone who laughed quite often and without prejudice.
        “Undoubtedly.” He nodded.  He took few steps forward, leaning against the wall next to her. Emie straightened instinctually.  He towered over her.  A few seconds ago, the terrace had seemed large and open, now suddenly it seemed small, if not a bit claustrophobic.
       “Your sister asked me to ask you--“ He started to say, before Emie pushed away from the wall, and started to laugh a rather loud, harsh laugh. 
       “Oh, oh wow.  You’re kidding me right?” She said, holding back a burst of laughter.  The man in front of her frowned, confused.
       “I’m sorry, I’m not following.”
       “You know, if you are going to pair up with my sister and try to pick me up, you’re going to have to do better than that.  I’ve used up all my douchebag passes tonight.  And you should probably work on that accent, too. I mean, even poor Johnny did a better British accent.  That’s horrible!” She laughed shaking her head, and drinking from her glass.  “What are you practicing for? Shakespeare? Some bullshit play no one will see?” He lifted a light brownish blond eyebrow, lowering his head a bit and looking at her.
       “I’m still…a bit lost.”
       “Oh, I’m sure you are. I’m lost too. Please, save me! Please, rescue me from the single life!” She exclaimed, shaking her finger at him.  “But I will give you credit, you are much, much better looking than Johnny.  Or really any of the other guys she’s tried to set me up with.  You’ve got that whole…blondish Errol Flynn thing about you.  Except fake British.” She sighed, moving to walk away.  He just stood, stock still, staring at her.  One blond eyebrow raised above ocean blue green eyes.
       “I am really, very confused right now.” She heard him say.  She had to give him points, he was sticking with the fake accent.
       “Where are you from? Not Jersey.  They don’t grow them like you in Jersey.” She said, walking backward now, slowly.  He took a hesitant step forward, but then stopped.
       “I’m actually from Westminster, London.” He said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but not quite making it there.  She paused then, waiting.
       “Wait, what?” Emie felt her heart start to hammer.  Oh god, who was this guy? Why did something about him seem familiar? Wasn’t he just some minion her sister had sent out to try and pick her up?  Emie frowned.
       “My name’s Tom.  Are you alright? We seem to have had some sort of misunderstanding.” He said gently.  His fake accent didn’t waver.  Perhaps it wasn’t fake.  In fact, it seemed pretty legitimate now that Emie listened a bit closer.
       “Oh geez.” She pressed her hand to her forehead, smacking herself lightly. “I’m an idiot.” She breathed. He took a step forward, tucking his hands into his pockets.
       “I hardly think that’s necessary.”
       “I’m really sorry.  I thought that you were…that my sister had…” Emie breathed out, feeling deflated.  What a great night. Stalked by a crazy date, and now she was turning out to be a bit crazy.  More than a bit.
       “Please, it’s fine. Are you alright?” He asked again, stepping forward and putting a hand to her elbow.  She felt his touch like electricity through her body.  Emie swallowed.  Who was this guy?!
       “It’s been quite a night.” She said softly, looking up at him.  She truly focused on his face for the first time.  He was very handsome with rather classic features.  His sandy blond hair had a red tint to it in the fading sunlight.  He had it cut short on the sides, and a bit longer and wavy on top.  She noticed again the lines by the corners of his eyes.  His quick, effervescent smile. 
       “You’re Emeline, Lucia’s sister, right?” He asked gently. She nodded.  “Okay, well I wanted to let you know that she’s waiting inside for you.  I’m Tom, Chris’ best mate.” He said, holding out a hand.  She let him take her hand in his larger one.  He had long, strong fingers and a warm, firm grip.
       Emie felt a few different emotions rush through her. Tom. He was the one in the magazine that she had been looking at with Lucia.  Except he didn’t really look the same. Long gone was the long, black hair and super pale skin.  It must have been just for the movie.  Now, standing before her, he looked healthy, and sun kissed, and quite handsome.
       “I’m um, Emeline, Lucia’s sister.” She managed, swallowing hard.  He smiled then, a gently, warming smile.
       “Yes, we’ve established that.” He said dipping his head, hiding a smile.  She nodded, realizing how stupid she sounded.
       “I’m really sorry I called you a douchebag.  I promise I’m not normally so crazy.” She said, shrugging her shoulders lamely.
       “Crazy? I wasn’t thinking crazy at all.  Intriguing, yes, but no, not particularly crazy.” He offered and then starting shrugging out of his suit coat.  Underneath he had on a crisp, perfectly fitted white dress shirt.  Then, without a word, he held out his jacket.  Emie watched him, not sure what he was doing at first.  She then moved forward, stepping toward the open jacket.  She hadn’t even realized she’d been shivering slightly.  The air had gotten quite a bit cooler.
       “Thank you.” She said, her voice barely a whisper.
       “It suits you, actually.” He replied.  Emie let him slip it over her bare shoulders, suddenly enveloped in warmth.  He smelled amazing, like fresh laundry and something spicy and clean.  She felt her heart start to sputter along.
       “I’m sorry about the…comment about your accent.   I was upset about something else.” She explained lamely.  Tom just nodded, then tilted his head slightly.
       “Is it really that horrible?” He grinned.  She felt something deep in her stomach clench.
       “No, it’s nice. I’m just…” She groaned. “I’m horrible.” She laughed. He shook his head, his clear eyes looking away.  She noticed the strong, angular shape of his jaw.  His smooth skin.
       “Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” He asked then, nodding toward the restaurant. “Maybe a shot.” He chuckled.
       “That’s an excellent idea.” She said with a sigh, and let him gently lead her back toward the building.