Side Order of Soulmate (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 2

As soon as her shift ended, Nicole returned to the table where Waverly had waited, bringing with her two glasses of Pernod and a small carafe of water. She placed one glass purposefully in front of Waverly and proceeded to add the water. As it hit the Pernod, Waverly watched in fascination as the liqueur changed from a pale golden colour to cloudy white. The drink's transformation before her eyes was magical, the alchemy of combining two separate liquids to make something more delicious. Nicole raised the glass to Waverly for her to drink, as she got up to remove the empty mug and bowl that were still on the table.

The strong smell hit Waverly immediately. Aniseed wafts entering her nose, as she brought the glass to her lips to taste:

"You have before?" Nicole asked, trying to gauge the look on Waverly's face.

"No. First time," Waverly choked before launching into a coughing fit. Regaining her composure, they both looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

"You like?" Nicole questioned, looking directly at Waverly, not sure whether the reaction to a drink she was trying for the first time was good or bad.

"Oh, God. Yes, I like. Sorry, the drink, yes it's distinctive."

Nicole had removed her chef's apron and black work shirt and was now in a white, tight-fitting T-shirt that contoured her upper body perfectly. She was athletic in build, with well-defined muscles and Waverly could tell she worked out, a lot. Without make-up, her skin looked amazing, fresh with that ever so noticeable ski-resort tan. How could someone, who had just spent hours in a kitchen, look this perfect Waverly thought, realising she was again gazing at Nicole longer than she possibly should.

"It's lovely," was all Waverly could add, sensing her reaction to the drink probably wasn't the most positive. Seeking another topic, she continued:

"So, why are you here?"

"Money. Here is nice," Nicole replied, her eyes lowered as she took a sip of her own drink.

"I cook."

"You cook!" Waverly echoed. Of course she cooks. She's just come out of a kitchen. For fuck's sake, girl, get a grip here, her internal voice commanded.

"You cook?" Nicole asked.

"Sort of. If it's in a tin I cook it."

Nicole looked confused. "You cook tins?"

"No, I just don't do all the fancy stuff," Waverly replied, recognising yet again she was talking with a French chef who probably did do all the fancy stuff.

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"The army."

The impressed look on Waverly's face was picked up by Nicole, whose eyes widened. Glancing at her watch, Waverly suddenly realised it was 2am:

"Crap. I have to get home," Waverly blurted, pushing out her chair as she stood up.

"I walk you?" Nicole offered.

Waverly paused for a moment. As much as that offer was very, very appealing, she didn't want her new-found friendship tainted by anything to do with 'that' household.

"No, I'm OK. Great to meet you," she beamed, looking at Nicole, hoping beyond hopes this wouldn't be the last time they were together.

"We drink again, yes?" Nicole offered.

"Oh yes, we drink again!"

After exchanging phone numbers, Waverly held out her hand to shake goodbye. Nicole considered the gesture briefly before saying:

"In France we kiss."

A kiss on each cheek later and Waverly was floating back to the house she had left hours earlier feeling a whole lot better about her life. They say, you know when your soulmate enters your life. Perhaps you do. Or, maybe it is simply a moment when a shift in your life occurs and you only recognise that shift some time afterwards.

Waverly was about to find out what that shift would be.