5 The Run-in (pt. 1)

There was nothing worse than the best liquor store in town not having my go-to wine. What was even worse was the grocery store with the best liquor in town not even having my go-to wine in their inventory at all. I had to settle for the second best option, which was Artemis boxed wine, of which I had to grab three cases just so there would be no lack of the drink in my apartment.

My cart was beginning to rattle as all the bottles in it knocked into each other. An extra bottle of whiskey was thrown in with the rest for good measure too. If this didn't give me alcohol poisoning for the weekend, I don't know what would.

'Yes, please buy multiple bottles of alcohol for the weekend on a Wednesday.'

Wednesday was the Friday of the week and one would convince me otherwise. I was just lucky that work wouldn't be calling my name after the next day. I hadn't taken a weekday off in a while.

A bottle of Smirnoff joined the fray next. The amount of alcohol in my cart was nearing dangerous amounts, so I finally exited the liquor isle and went to buy the rest of the items on my grocery list.

'First order of business, cheese.'

Cheese was something I was very passionate about, to the extent where I would buy more cheese than I needed and still end up eating all of it within the week. I was sure that my cholesterol levels were nearing danger heights, so I cut down to only buying cheese bimonthly in order to pace myself.

"Colby-jack cubes, check. Sharp cheddar block, check. Mozzarella block, check. Parmesan, check. Goat cheese, check. Cream cheese... Ah, here we go," I looked down at the list on my phone and began to mentally tick off the things I'd already gotten. So far, I was about halfway through. "On to the bread."

The bread isle was another wonderland for me. I never bought anything other than artisanal or whole wheat bread, being a health nut and all that, but the crackers and cookies that accompanied the precious loafs would always seduce me into buying some.

'So much for health nut.'

I grabbed my favourite artisanal buns, a few croissants and some seeded crackers to accompany my expensive sharp cheddar block. The list was now mostly ticked off. Everything that was necessary to make a cheese board was in my cart or very close.

"Right, on to the fruits then," my phone made its way back into my pocket before I deemed it safe to continue pushing on and rounded the corner to head towards my destination.

Of course, I was wrong, because this wouldn't be my life unless I was wrong.

"Woah there, tigress,"

"Oh for fuck's sake," it was not my intention to say that out loud, but nothing really went to plan anyway, so I might as well have gotten myself fired.

"Ouch. Not excited to see me?" Jason gave me a crooked smile, the same kind of smile he got whenever he was being playful. Curse my stomach for feeling butterflies. A deep exhale was making its way out of my nostrils.

"It's always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Greene," I replied politely, trying to keep my professionalism for the sake of my pay check. Truth was, I was not—nor would I ever be, honestly— in the mood to see him. My feet were killing me and my back hurt from hunching over my desk all day. Being emotionally tormented by this man was the last thing I needed today.

"So first you cuss at me, and now you're backtracking by being professional? Come on, Amaria, I know you better than that. We're out of office hours so you can relax."

My breath caught in my throat from the bundle of nerves that was threatening to give my lunch a grand re-entrance. Why did he have to look so imposing? Why did I have to be terrified of him?

I looked down at his hands and frowned, seeing only a basket littered with a bag of celery, some apples, and tomato sauce. Did this man not know about the concept of eating anymore?

"What's that?" I nodded towards the contents he was carrying. I hoped that wasn't all he was getting.

"Just some of the ingredients for my breakfast juicing," he shrugged casually as he picked up the bag of apples. "I was on my way to the register before this exciting opportunity at a conversation struck. Literally. You hit my shins with the corner of your cart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I moved my cart out of the way a bit so it wouldn't be touching him anymore. This entire situation was so embarrassing.

"Are you hosting a party?" He nodded towards the items in my cart. "That's a lot of alcohol."

"No," I wanted to die. "I'm just restocking," he was going to think I had a drinking problem.

'God, strike me down now if you really love me!'

"Oh. I see you still love cheese," his eyes were glued to the giant blocks of cheese beside the alcohol. "Are you making a board?"

Oh thank goodness. "How did you know?"

"The olives gave you away. Also, you never buy boxed wine unless there was none of your favourite wine, and you only drink your favourite wine unless you're making a cheese board," I wasn't sure if his retention of my habits made me uncomfortable or warmed my heart.

"I see you still have an exceptional memory," what a sad attempt at a joke on my part.

"My best asset," he hadn't stopped smiling the entire time and it was beginning to freak me out. "Do you know where the protein powder is? I can't seem to find it anywhere."

"Sir, do not tell me you were going to buy ingredients for a protein shake and just quit the store and go home?"

He looked confused. This man was unbelievable, "yes, why?"

"You're literally going to juice yourself to death. Are you eating?" I knew my tone and facial expression was coming off as judgmental, but my concerns were elsewhere. If he died, who was going to pay me?

"Yes I'm eating, but this new diet I'm trying out is—" I raised my hand and cut off his sentence. Enough was processed by my brain to know that I needed to help him. Coincidentally, I was standing next to pasta, so I grabbed a box and put it in his basket.

"You need to intake more starches," a packet of Colby-Jack cheese left my arsenal and went into his basket. "You also need a cart. Go grab one, I'll wait for you here."