text: The dining room of the restaurant was crowded, despite the fact that it was New Years Eve. At every table there were the usual date night couples along with small parties of friends, and in the corner there was a single table, with a single man, waiting. This was the table. The table he would meet her. The girl. He looked again at his watch. They hadn’t said how long it would be before she arrived, they had just been clear on two things, the table, and the girl. A blond. He had always liked blondes, but of course they knew that. The fates knew everything. Either way, it didn’t change anything. Why they chose to reveal their plans to him, a nobody from nowhere, was a mystery.all he knew is that he wouldn’t miss this for the world. So there he sat, the corner booth, when suddenly a cold wave splashed over him. He looked down in surprise at his soaked shirt sleeve. “I am so sorry!” said the waitress, blond hair spilling over her shoulder and green eyes wide with surprise. Her hands were holding tightly to the glass that just recently had its contents spilled over the tall man sitting on his own. The man smiled good natured. “That’s all right.” He took his napkin and dabbed at his shirt, trying to soak up some of the water. The girl on front of him blushed and starting fumbling with a rag from her apron. “I tripped, there’s a hole in the carpet, I’ve told them to get it fixed.” She bent down and began to pick up ice cubes with her rag. He took the opportunity to examine her roots. Brown. A dye job. Not his blond then. “That’s perfectly alright, probably would have made the same mistake myself.” She smiled. “Can I get you anything?” She gave him a flirty little smile. He appreciated the attention, but he wasn’t interested. Not anymore. She moved on, apologizing again. Things were starting to get awkward. He had already had dinner, but she hadn’t showed. The fake blond waitress had given him a glance here and there, checking on him once, but left him alone after that. Another hour and a desert later, he decided to turn in for the night. He would contact the fates and tell them something must have gone wrong. It was close enough to midnight that if he left now, he would make it to the apartment in time to watch the ball drop. Besides, the manager was giving him those searching glances the management gives when they will be needing a table and someone stubbornly refuses to leave. He grabbed his jacket when he heard the voice of the young hostess out front. “Sorry miss, I’m afraid the restaurant is full, you will have to wait.” He looked up across his table, across the room, and across from the hostess, there stood a young, blond woman, glaring at the hostess. “Are you sure?” She asked. “I’m sure I made a reservation... check again.” The hostess’s eyes scanned over the computer screen again. “I’m sorry, but all the reservations we have are already here.” It was clear from the glare in the woman’s face that she was about to make a scene. “Ma’am.” The hostess turned at the eager voice at her elbow, and recognized the tall man from the corner booth. He was looking at the woman across from her, who all at once looked up at him sharply. “If you don’t mind the company, I would be honored if you would join me at my table.” The blond woman looked him up and down, taking in his lean muscular frame and his cornflower blue eyes. He didn’t look half bad, really. Besides, she was starving. Usually she was a little more cautious around strangers, but one night of adventure wouldn’t kill her, would it? “Thanks,” she smiled at him as they slid into his booth. His waiter came by for her order. She didn’t even need to look at a menu. She had been coming to this restaurant for years now, always getting the same order. “So,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “Can I ask what your name is?” She smiled at him. “Sandy.” Sandy. His pulse quickened at the very sound of the name. He smiled back at her. “Hi Sandy, I’m Bill.” “Nice to meet you Bill. Thank you so much for letting me share your table, I would have hated missing my dinner plans.” He shrugged. “That’s alright. Honestly I’m surprised it’s so crowded. You would think that on New Year’s Eve people would be out at parties.” Sandy shrugged. “I guess not everyone is out celebrating. Some of us,” She hesitated, and then continued on. “Well, I know I didn’t have anyone special to celebrate with this year.” The question hung in the air. A small glimpse of sadness crossed the tall man’s face, and his smile slipped into a grimace for a moment. “Neither did I, and yet, here we are.” After an hour of soup and conversation, Bill had learned a lot about his dinner companion. She had grown up in Arizona, moved all over with her family, and was on town on business. She loved yoga, beach houses, and chocolate. “I should probably cut back on the chocolate though, I’m watching my figure.” He grinned as she looked down in false modesty. He reached across the table ad took her hand. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you are beautiful. May I have the pleasure of buying you a slice of chocolate cake?” She smiled. “You are the sweetest! Thank you so much I’d love one.” He grinned, leaning back in his seat. When the waitress came back, he asked for the two largest slices of cake they had to offer. As Sandy finished her dinner, two pieces of cake around the corner. Her eyes went wide with delight. Bill almost laughed. Everything was going perfectly. After they had had their desert, they were reluctant to let the night end. “It’s almost midnight,” Bill said. “If we go now, we might make it to the bridge in time to see some fireworks.” Sandy agreed and they strolled out into the night air. The dyed blond waitress watched disappointedly as the tall handsome man left with the blond woman on his arm. She watched as they tuned the corner. And then turned to walk back to her table, which appeared to be leaving- along with every other table in the restaurant. She stood there, confused, as the bustling restaurant emptied onto the street in less than two minutes. She stopped the last customer as he headed towards the door. “Excuse me, sir. Is everything alright? Did something happen?” With a single word, the gentleman left, closing the door behind him. The hostess walked up to her, looking puzzled. “What did he say?” The waitress frowned, turning to her. “Fate.” They walked in the moonlight, down the sidewalks and onto the bridge. As cars went by, his hands started to shake and his mind went racing. The moment was coming, and the timing had to be perfect. “So, what about you?” Sandy laughed, “I feel like I’ve been talking myself all this time, and I don’t know a thing about you.” They stopped in the middle of the bridge, and leaned over the edge. “Well, there’s not much to tell about me really,” Confidently, he sat on the edge of the bridge rail, letting us legs dangle over the edge. Sandy leaned forward, clearly wanting to join him. “Be careful!” She warned. He chuckled. “Oh, its safe enough. Besides, we aren’t that high up.” He gave her a hand and helped her swing her leges over to sit beside him. They watched the water ripple below, waiting for the fireworks to start. “I’m not as exciting as you, Sandra Phelps.” Her smiled faltered, and she grabbed onto the rail. Her stomach, which had preach felt a bit queasy after overindulging in that giant slice of cake, had begun to do flips. She had never given him her full name. He continued. “I’ve never embezzled millions of dollars from my family’s company, or killed my assistant after she found out.” Something was wrong. Very very wrong. With every word, pain grew and grew inside her stomach. Suddenly she realized she had made a grave mistake. “Missy. That’s what her name was, your assistant. At least, that’s what i called her.” He looked at her then, all kindness leaving his face, his cornflower blue eyes now seemed more like ice. “She was my wife.” It was in that moment that the poison took its full affect. Sandra’s body went limp. A car drove by, and their headlights caught her blond hair as she fell into the water. The man on the bridge yelled after her. The couple in the car pulled over, running to help the distraught man. “That woman, she, she jumped into the river!” He began to take off his jacket, leaning forward. The couple pulled him back. “Go call 911,” They said, but they knew it was already too late. The woman was floating in the water, lifeless. The distraught man walked away hurriedly, pulling out a phone. A burner phone, with a single number in it’s contacts, that was not 911. The phone rang once, and a voice on the other end answered. “Fate.” “The target has been terminated.” “Body?” “River. Probably a suicide.” The man smiled a grim smile. The voice on the other side did not smile. “Probably. And the poison?” “Untraceable.” “In the water?” The man hesitated. “No. In the soup. She would have suspected the water. I had to flatter her just to distract her long enough.” There was a pause on the other end. “That may be a problem.” The tall man frowned. “How big of a problem?” The voice on the other end of the line sighed. “We will be in touch. Until then lie low.” There was a click, and the call ended. The man put his phone back in his pocket. After waiting five years to avenge his wife, he could lie low for a while. Until then, he would wait. Wait, for the call of Fate.