Tom held your hand tightly as he shook it once. It was a quick, very official-looking handshake. You were glad it wasn't one of those limp wrist grips; it would have thrown you off. Though Tom was a bit off. He kept glancing behind you, making sure the people would leave. They didn't.
"I feel like this is where our paths diverge," you said, hiding your sadness behind a smile. You were sad that you couldn't spend more time with Tom. It had been such a lovely afternoon, and it was over now.
"Yeah, I suppose so. I'm really sorry about that," Tom sighed, "I would have walked you home."
"Oh, that's alright. I live just around the corner." Maybe a bit further than that, but it felt like a good thing to say. Hopefully, it would make him feel better. Not that he actually cared, really. It's the easy thing to do, saying you would have done something if you only could, but alas. But, as its intention was, it came appreciated.
That would have been a perfect time to say goodbye and walk away, but no, your mind started rumbling with questions.
"Uhm," how to go about it, "what am I actually supposed to address you as, since you're my boss and all?"
Tom thought for a second, "just Tom is fine. I'm not really into all the Mister stuff."
"Okay, Tom, I also uhm- what I mean- Jesus why can't I form a sentence anymore? I promise I'm usually much more eloquent than this." You were overthinking everything suddenly and becoming hyper-aware of your surroundings. With a glance at the door, you could see the group of fans contemplating whether or not to step inside. They were talking amongst each other, giggling and pointing. Meanwhile, you and Tom were still standing at your table. In a bit of an awkward position since you couldn't quite sit back down anymore, but you had started the conversation back up again and could not walk away from it anymore.
"Just take a breath, love. It's honestly fine." His hand moved up a bit, reaching out to hold your arm, but he quickly pulled it back and crossed his arms across his chest. Once again, you saw his eyes glance at the window again. He was getting self-conscious, thinking his actions through an outsider's mindset, how they can be photographed and analysed, and eventually, probably, scrutinised.
You took that well-suggested deep breath. "Yeah, sorry. What I meant to ask was, when am I actually supposed to start? Because Zendaya mentioned tomorrow, and if you need me then, I'll be there, it just feels very... sudden." had you discussed this already? You couldn't remember it anymore. Everything was becoming somewhat blurry.
"Tomorrow? Oh god no, I think she was just messing with you. I'm off tomorrow, but gotta go to set the day after. Will that be alright?" you didn't know if he asked it because he was just that polite or if he didn't understand that, as his assistant, you should be making time for him. That was very endearing nonetheless.
"Yeah, that's perfect, of course."