Soulmate

The Rubicon

"This place is so fancy."

The carpet is made of plush, red, velvet. Glimmering and twinkling, a gorgeous chandelier hangs delicately from the ceiling. The table that Jahanzeb and I are seated at is made of real wood, not some plastic imitation. The chair frames are made of the same genuine timber, and the cushion is covered with what seems to be bona fide silk. It could be polyester, but I'm willing to bet it's not.

There doesn't seem to be a single customer here that is under the age of 25. Jahanzeb and I must be the youngest guests at this restaurant. Around me, I can see people in uniform carrying trays of food and drinks. They must work here, although I've never seen a restaurant with human workers. I've always assumed that was a Pre-Soulmates thing. I can't imagine how embarrassed I'll be, giving orders to a person.

"It's a human restaurant," Jahanzeb explains. "Food is cooked by a human, served by a human, even the dishes are washed by humans. There's no menu because the food has already been set and cooked by the chef, to save time."

"Wow," I exhale in wonder. "I've never been served by a human waiter before."

The blush in his cheeks is apparent as Jahanzeb raises his glass to his lips in order to hide his embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I know you come from a less privileged family," he says. "Watching you appreciate something I take for granted makes me feel like a shitty friend."

I put my hand on his. The touch makes him flinch a little bit. "You don't have to feel that way. You've already shared so much with me today. I'm eternally grateful."

His blush deepens. "That's exactly the thing. Everything I take for granted is something that is precious to you. I feel really humbled by that."

The waiter approaches our table and I retract my hand immediately out of habit. He smiles at Jahanzeb in recognition.

"Good evening, Mr. Ahmed. I see you've brought your Soulmate today for dinner today. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Jahanzeb beats me to the punch. "Elena. Elena Garcia."

"Good evening, Miss Garcia," He dips in a deep bow. "I see you've already been served some drinks, so we'll waste no time on that. Today for soup, the chef has prepared mushroom cream soup, and for salad we have grilled salmon skin and arugula salad with citrus dressing (please note that this salad contains nuts) and for the main course we have real sirloin steak with roasted potatoes and last, but of course never least, for dessert today we have a raspberry cheesecake with milk chocolate from Belgium."

I exchange a look with Jahanzeb. I doubt I had ever eaten so fancily in my life.

"Any questions, concerns, comments, complaints, compliments, thoughts, exclamations, burning desires?"

"Uh, no," I say.

"None," Jahanzeb says.

"Alright, I will be right back with your soup so you can begin dining," he flashes us a charming smile. "Oh, and, Miss Garcia? You don't need to hide your PDA. Congratulations on finding your Soulmate. You got lucky; Mr. Ahmed is the paragon of a gentleman."

I blush profusely. So he did see me holding Jahanzeb's hand. Jahanzeb doesn't seem to be fazed, only a little morose. Still, he puts on a smile and pats the waiter's shoulder playfully.

"Oh, come on," he chuckles. "Wes is just trying to flatter me. And yes, I will tip extra, don't sweat it."

Wes pumps his fist once and leaves us to go fetch the soup.