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He was taller than when we went to school back in the days, his broad shoulders nearly blocking out the rest of my view of the cereal aisle.
He nodded at the box of cereal in my hands as his own large ones grabbed a similar box off the shelf. His hands were much bigger than mine, with neatly trimmed nails, and slightly tanned.Masculinehands.
“These are Max’s favorite,” I told him with a smile.
“He has great taste,” he grinned, waving his box before tossing it into his cart. He grabbed two more and tossed them in, too. “When you’re a bachelor, cereals are a culinary essential and you quickly get to know which ones are good and which ones are trash.”
I laughed a little, raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, it’s good every once in a while, but growing boys need more than just cereal. Especially if they’re into sports.”
He chuckled at that. He should know better than anyone. After all, he was Max’s soccer coach.
“No wonder Max is doing so well on the field,” he winked at me. “It seems you’ve got him eating good food.”
I shook my head and laughed as we talked a bit more before we parted ways. I watched as his broad back disappeared down one of the aisles and pushed my cart down to the cashier.
There was still a load of housework calling out my name back home.
***
I had just loaded my shopping bags into the trunk when a shiny, red Ferrari with the top down pulled up into the parking space beside me. I frowned when I saw that it was parked at an odd angle.
Probably failed to color within the lines as a kid, too.
I squinted at the driver behind the wheel, half-expecting a teenager to jump out. Instead, the redhead that slid out of the plush leather seat was Karla, a girl I knew from high school.
As she closed the door, I looked on with amused dread as she teetered on her expensive stilettos, slipped, and nearly fell onto the pavement, hanging on to the door of her car for dear life while cursing like a shrew.
Karla was one of those people who managed to climb up the ladder of success and made sure everybody knew it. Today, she was dressed in an immaculately tailored, dark red suit with a neckline that plunged shockingly low for a supposedly respectable businesswoman. She had on the latest Louboutins, which she most likely chose because the added height enabled her to look down on poor peasants like me.
“Well, well, well,” Karla purred, looking me up and down with her crystal-studded, cat-eye sunglasses. “If it isn’t my old friend, Emma.”
“Friend” was hardly a word I would use for Karla but I gave her a nice, polite smile all the same.
I had a pretty good idea what she thought of me in my sweatpants and faded T-shirt, my medium-length blond hair twisted into a messy ponytail. Although my nails were neatly trimmed, they were nowhere within the league of Karla’s immaculately painted talons.
“Hey, Karla,” I greeted her.
“What do we have here?” she sauntered up to the trunk of my beat-up sedan and peered at the groceries arranged in neat rows—toilet paper, laundry detergent, some cleaning materials and vegetables.
Just your everyday groceries that any small family would need.
No designer bags or caviar.
I slammed the trunk door shut with a little extra effort, deriving some pleasure when Karla jumped back and wobbled on those ridiculous shoes of hers. If I had used less force, I ran the risk of the trunk door popping back open.
Karla prying into my purchases felt like a violation of my privacy. Like she was undressing my soul in the parking lot and judging me.
“When they said you were most likely to succeed, I wasn’t really expecting this from you, Emma,” she snickered. “Holy shit, how far you have fallen.”
I just smiled at her. “It depends on how we really define success, Karla.”
A mocking smile graced her lips. “Yes, that is what they all say.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded. “Well, I have to go now. It was nice seeing you again.”
I scooted into the driver’s seat and started up the car. Seeing Karla was amping up all the insecurities I had tried to keep at bay.
To my horror, it merely wheezed on my first few attempts like a poor grandma with bronchitis.
