Right Love, Wrong Alpha

Violet

"What would you like to have today, Miss Violet?" the waitress asked me with a polite smile.

For fifteen minutes, I stared at Nate across from me, counting how many times his phone lit up instead of his eyes meeting mine.

Alpha Nate was the alpha of Night Howl Pack and the man I was going to be married to soon. 

I waited for him to get off the phone. To look at me.

We were seated at the fanciest restaurant of Ashville and I had made the reservations weeks in advance in a desperate attempt to rekindle our relationship. 

I had taken an effort to dress up, curl my hair but all of it had gone unnoticed. The restaurant lighting made the sequins on my dress glimmer faintly, and I caught my reflection in the mirrored panel beside us.

I looked... hopeful. Too hopeful.

"I will wait until he is free," I said. 

"Of course," The waitress nodded and turned to cater to the other customers.

I twiddled with my fork as I looked around. A few tables across from me, a guy proposed to his girlfriend in a round of cheers. I looked away, blinking back the sting in my eyes.

My gaze drifted absently, scanning faces, until movement caught my eye near the corner booth.

The waitress from earlier was talking to a customer.

No, talking was putting it mildly. She was smiling radiantly. Tucking hair behind her ear like she had suddenly forgotten how hands worked. 

Her voice was low, but her expression did all the talking. She was flustered and trying very hard but failing to act casual.

Curious, my eyes drifted to the customer she was talking to, a stranger seated alone.

Her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes widened followed by the kind of laughter someone gives when they don't know what else to do with all the attention suddenly pointed at them.

The man in the corner remained still, relaxed in his seat. 

His posture didn't scream arrogance, just quiet confidence. Like someone used to being watched... and never needing to return the energy.

Whatever he said next made her freeze for a heartbeat and then, in her rush to nod and respond, her elbow grazed the tray.

The water glass tipped.

"Ah. Oh gosh, sorry!" she gasped, scrambling to catch it. She didn't, and the cold water splashed across the table, some of it hitting the man's suit jacket.

Mortified, she fumbled for tissues, leaning forward to dab at his chest but he had already done it himself.

The tiniest flicker of disappointment crossed her face that made a faint smile tug at my lips. Cute. Endearing. Everything my own night wasn't.

Then, unfortunately, he looked up.

His gaze collided with mine, sharp and unhurried. He didn't look surprised to catch me staring. 

And my breath stalled for a moment as the waitress hurried toward the kitchen, cheeks burning.

Nate chose that exact moment to look up from his phone,