Tuesday, August 25, 2009 – 2:01pm – Starbucks; Gotham City, New Jersey

"Have you seen her yet?"

"Not in person. I figured if she keeps his interest long enough, I might get to see her at the Vanity Fair Gala this weekend. If he decides to show up."

"I saw them leaving Oriole Saturday—I can't even with how pretty she is. It's not fair."

"Of course she's pretty! He wouldn't be with someone ugly, now would he?"

"Well, I mean you know how some celebrities are pretty on screen and then kind of pretty in person—I was really hoping that was the case."

"Pffft, he's been on the market for years and he hasn't noticed you, so stop acting all jealous like you had a chance."

"Hey, a girl can dream, can't she? He slept with the entire Russian ballet while they were in town. Pretty sure any girl with money and a pretty face has a chance."

"When you say it that way, oh yes, he's so dreamy."

Tommy's lip curled up at the heavy sarcasm dripping from the lips of the woman seated at the table behind him, partly in disgusted sneer at how horrendous of an alibi his nemesis had allowed himself to have, and partly in a mild smirk of excitement at how easy this was turning out to be.

He didn't know exactly who he owed the acceleration of his plans to, but he was certainly grateful for it. After Edward's embarrassing incident, he was worried his grip on Ana was compromised. But when he spotted the first pictures of the "happy couple" on his casual peruse of the tabloid section of the interwebs, if he were a lesser man, he would've been absolutely giddy.

It was as if the universe wanted his plan to come to fruition. Their plan.

However, where Bruce Wayne was in the paparazzi spotlight almost daily, Batman was still MIA. He hadn't seen Batman since the night he shot him. Clearly, he was fine, but spooked. Or just playing it safe. Clever boy.

The Bat was sniffing too close to Edward's mistakes. Tommy knew Bruce was intelligent. All it took was one minor detail for everything to come unraveled—and there was no time for that, so he distracted him. After all, a couple of bullets between the armor could be a hell of a distraction.

He was impressed to see Bruce Wayne out an about three days later, surprisingly not dodging the paparazzi and with none other than Anastasia Williams on his arm. The girl did have some medical training after all, so he shouldn't have been too surprised.

"What are you wearing on Saturday?" the petite trophy wife behind Tommy continued, while his eyes were focused on the Rolls Royce that had just pulled up into the loading zone across the street.

"A custom-made Valentino design—I'm being fitted tomorrow."

The doorman rushed to open the backdoor of the luxury vehicle. A loitering photographer started snapping obnoxious photos with his Nokia.

"Valentino's so last season. Versace is making a come-back."

Dark hair, strong build poorly hidden under a plainclothes polo stood from the backseat and turned to offer his hand to the blonde-haired beauty who exited after him. As if in eveningwear being observed by the entire world, he escorted her into the building while the doorman desperately tried to shoo the lone photographer.

Thomas finished his coffee.