2- Shifters and Scribbles

Trying to distract myself from the mysterious blue thread, I work harder than I ever have in my life. Sadly, my tips don't show it. The customers who come here really do tend to be rather snobby. I am watching the clock as I work. About an hour has passed when I finally allow myself to glance at my blue thread again.

 

I gasp as I realise that the person it is connected to is in the restaurant right now. It leads to a woman sitting at table thirteen. She looks to be in her early twenties like me and has pitch black hair with a slight wave to it cascading down her back. It is only a couple inches shorter than mine. Her skin is tan and even from over here I can see she is absolutely stunning.

 

Trying to keep my nervousness from my face, I approach the table to take her order. As I come close, she looks up and meets my eyes and I am surprised to see they are a golden yellow colour. I glance down at her arm. She is wearing a gorgeous black dress that is probably worth more than I make in an entire month. Thankfully, it is a halter neck which leaves her arms totally clear so I can see her mark.

 

Her marks are black and the design wrapping around her arm is striking, I notice there are slashes through it that look like they might be meant to look like claw marks. Combining that with her golden eyes, it is pretty clear that she is a Shifter. This concerns me a little, as Shifters don't tend to befriend people who aren't also Shifters. In fact, even amongst themselves, Shifters are picky about who they associate with. You would rarely see a feline Shifter befriending a canine, rodent or reptile Shifter for example.

 

I start to feel disheartened when I remind myself of the blue thread which is already solidifying and becoming more stable after this slight interaction. Our friendship is already certain. I need to have faith in that.

 

I am about to ask for her order when a not-very-subtle cough from the man seated across from her draws my attention. I had been so caught up in the Shifter woman, my friend-to-be, that I hadn't even noticed she was with someone.

 

Looking at the man I am first struck by how classically handsome he is. Or at least how handsome he would be if he dropped the stuck-up expression that he is directing at me. He has hair that was somewhere between blonde and bronze and, like the woman, has yellowish eyes, although his tip more towards orange than gold. He is wearing a suit so I can't see any markings, but I would put money towards him being a Shifter as well.

 

Trying to play it cool, I take their orders and flee to deliver their slip to the kitchen. I fetch the bottle of wine the man requested and as I bring it to their table, I take the time to check them for threads.

 

There are no threads linking the two of them at all. I can't see any threads coming from the woman apart from the blue one linking her to me. The man also has a thread. It is solid and red and leads out towards the door and out of sight. He has already met his soul mate. I guess that the two of them are friends, or perhaps co-workers or something.

 

A few minutes later I bring out their food before continuing around to my other tables. I work hard not to be my usual clumsy self, something which is even more difficult than usual as I am completely distracted watching table thirteen out of the corner of my eye. It is terribly busy and more often than not, I am unable to keep them in sight.

 

I clear away the plates from their meal and I am about to take their orders for desert when suddenly the man shifts out of his seat and onto his knee beside the woman. I freeze, confused. What on Earth is happening here?

 

I open my mouth to ask if everything is okay when the man pulls a ring out of his pocket. My eyes widen, the woman gasps and pulls a hand up to cover her mouth. I am so caught up in her reactions that I don't even hear the words as the man proposes.

 

I do however see as she accepts. There are tears running down her face as she leans forward to kiss the man and he places the ring on her finger. A round of applause goes around the restaurant as everyone begins to congratulate the 'happy couple.'

 

Under Anthony's orders, I fetch them a complimentary desert as congratulations from the restaurant. I am numb. This is entirely wrong. He is not her soul mate, he has another soul mate. He has already met his soul mate, so how can he be proposing to another woman right now?

 

What should I do? Should I be doing anything? I usually try not to interfere. These threads are fates, so they don't need my assistance. But if this woman really is fated to be my close friend, can I really let her marry someone who already has a soul mate? It can only end in heartbreak.

 

Before I get the chance to talk myself out of it, I scribble a note to her on a scrap of paper I find behind the bar.

 

You don't know me, and I'm sorry that I can't explain this properly in a note. You should know that the man who just proposed to you is not the right man for you and while it may be unpleasant to hear, I thought I should tell you now in an attempt to spare you more pain in the future. One day I hope to explain myself properly but for now this is all I can do.

 

I am truly sorry.

 

I hesitate, unsure if I should sign the note. I have no idea how this woman is going to react. I know she will be my friend eventually, but she isn't yet and I don't want to push my luck.

 

I am not brave enough to write my name and sign the note properly, but I can't bring myself to make the note entirely anonymous either. I quickly scribble my initials at the end of the note. R.G. For Ryann Gale.

 

Next I have to figure out how to slip her the note in a way that won't alert the man. I decide to try and slip it into her bag which is sitting by her foot under the table slightly.

 

I grab their bill and make my way back to their table. As I go to place the little folder with the bill inside on the table, I make sure to 'accidentally' slip and drop it on the floor. I bend to pick it up and quickly slip my note in the woman's bag before I get to my feet, apologise and place the folder on the table directly between them.

 

The man reaches for the folder. but the woman waves him off.

 

“Don't be ridiculous Tristan. I have plenty of money, it makes sense for me to pay. Besides, once we marry, what's mine will be yours. So, it doesn't really matter at this point.” She decides.

 

She grabs her bag and rummages inside. I hold my breath. I was counting on her not finding the note until she gets home. I release the breath as she pulls a purse from her bag, not noticing the note. She pulls out a shiny silver credit card and hands it and the folder back to me with a smile.

 

I quickly go to ring it up. I glance at the name on the card. Megan Kane.

 

As I return the card to her, I give her a bright smile. She might not know it yet and she might not be my friend, but from the moment she entered this restaurant, I became her friend and I intend to be the best friend she could ever have.

 

The pair of them leave, arm in arm. I have to resist the desire to chase after them and introduce myself to Megan properly. I remind myself once more that we are fated to be friends. I will see her again.