Catherine Lewis is a shy, unsophisticated twenty-one year old with a secret. She's the most prominent matchmaker for the elite, the parents of the rich and famous come to her.
But who will give her advice on love when she encounters the son of the...
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With rising trepidation, my eyes remain fixed on Zander's back as he strides purposefully down to the very end of the café and slides into a booth with two female customers embarrassed but thrilled, their faces betraying everything. How did Zander know it wasn't a guy who wrote that letter? And is he even at the right table?
Sighing, I take a quick moment to look at the napkin again and a sinking feeling akin to minimal pain hits me, the contents were explicitly clear – I should know my place. I had no right to flirt and make a slut out of myself with someone out of my league. I was dull and in they're more than colourful words, trying far too hard.
Ouch.
It stings but I'm used to all this; I'm used to the candid names, the hateful glances, and the subtle hints implying I wasn't meant to be apart of 'the crowd.' By no means is Catherine Lewis worthy of anything but malice or in some instances, sympathy. I dealt with a lot of prejudice and scorn growing up without Gran, false sympathy reflected in the faces of many. I knew they were judging me and assumed I was destined for insignificance rather than greatness, being a child so easily given up on and tossed aside.
"WHAT THE HELL?"
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
Startled, I realise I've done it again, I've taken another trip down to the past. Vigorously shaking my head to bring myself back to the present, I look over to the now furious and malicious females who're on their feet, huffing and puffing.
"Are you calling me a bitch?"
"All I'm saying is that you need to apologise to my friend, got it?" Zander doesn't even flinch from accusatory nail jabbed in the air and aimed for his face.
"Why should I even? She's flirting with no shame, so openly and with someone she doesn't belong with."
"And God made you the judge of that, is that right?"
"Whatever. I was just telling her where her place is."
"Yeah, and I'm telling you that you better apologise."
"Why?"
"Because the contents of that napkin weren't very nice, and that's putting it mildly because if you were guys, you wouldn't even be able to stand in front of me for saying stuff like that."
"So you're calling us bitches and now you're threatening us?"
"No. Like I said, I'm just here to demand an apology because you two have no goddamn right to pass something like that to anyone."
Their mouths hang open and so does mine. Is Zander Nolan sticking up for this pathetic piece of a woman? I'm not the only one stunned because other customers who have filed in stare at the scene, not to mention the staff excitedly looking on from the side – their jobs neglected and forgotten for the moment.
