He smiles softly to himself, watching after Monty's progress, the looks they are drawing, the surprised and knowing glances from other passersby, recognizing a licensed Companion and their powerful Patron. Some of them - more in the know, or interested in such gossip - might even be able to make a guess exactly who he was, might match up his identity with that of a faithful shadow from red carpet events or other outings. Regardless, he gazes straight ahead once Monty has slipped through the doors and into the crowd inside the cafe, hidden from his view, thinking about what lies ahead of him for the rest of the day.

The door opens and closes and Monty slides in, blushing a lovely flush of red, looking deliciously mussed and flustered. He nods at the driver, who pulls away, and he holds his hand out expectantly.

"That was fast," he comments casually, as though he hadn't just been fondling Monty moments before, leaving them aching and wet with arousal. "It usually takes them longer to toast my order."