The Begining

Disclaimer
Let me preempt this tale by saying this; people who come into my shop are searching for something. They do not wander in simply by accident. They are grabbed by the heart and dragged down this path by the hands of Fate. Nothing in this world happens at random. Everything is Fated.

Dark and stormy night
It was a clichéd dark and stormy night when she walked into my shop. The power had gone out so I was using a plethora of candles (both scented and normal) to light my place of business/home. I had just seated myself in my comfy black chair, back to the door and cat on my lap when I heard the door open. The sound of heels clicking hesitantly against the wooden floor reached my ears. With a tap of my foot I swung the chair around, facing her just as lightning flashed, illuminating the gloom of the room.

“I’ve been expecting you Mrs. Anderson.” A crash of thunder accompanied my words, causing the woman to flinch. (Admittedly I’d laid it on a little thick, but it’s not every day one gets to act like a stereotypical Bond villain)

My amazing introduction didn’t last long as Mother Nature decided to back off and the lights came flickering back on. Upside was that I could then see her clearly. She looked…frazzled, to put it delicately.

She was a pale woman, with tired circles under her eyes and dark hair, damp from the now diminishing rainstorm. Her clothes were simple, yet expensive. Name brand slacks and a classy blouse that would probably clean me out of rent money. Bright hazel eyes stared at me in bewilderment and suspicion.

“Expecting me? And how did you know my name?”

I arose from my seat, dislodging my cat who then jumped onto the desk and sat there radiating disapproval in the silent way cats are prone to.

“I read the newspaper, Mrs. Anderson. Your marriage was the talk of the town for quite some time. As for my anticipation of your arrival, I am privy to many things beyond comprehension.” (Please excuse the language, I was in a theatrical mood that day) She raised a perfectly styled, though damp, eyebrow in disbelief.

“Do these ‘things beyond comprehension’ also tell you to talk like phony psychic?” I smiled. I could already tell this would be fun.

“Occasionally. But, setting my speech patterns aside, we are here to talk about you.”

“I-No. I didn’t mean to come in here. I just wanted shelter from the rain.” She backed up a couple steps.

“No one enters this shop by accident. It was fated that we meet.” She stopped backing up at this, and her brow furrowed sharply.

“I make my own fate.” I had touched a nerve.

“I’m aware. Mrs. Victoria Anderson, formerly Ms. Hargreave. Graduated top of her class, entering the family business straight out of college and making your family into one of the most influential among the upper class in the last 5 years than your ancestors did in a lifetime.” I leaned back against the desk and stared right into her eyes. “You came here because you desired something. Something you cannot get through your normal means.” I let my voice slip into a coaxing whisper. “You can tell me.”