him does hamper me.
My inner goddess narrows her eyes and looks
thoughtful. We need to work on this.
As Christian and I gaze at each other—me hot,
bothered and yearning and him, relaxed and amused at my
expense—I realize I ha一ve no food in the apartment.
“I could cook something—except we’ll ha一ve to go
shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“For groceries.”
“You ha一ve no food here?” His expression hardens.
I shake my head. Crap, he looks quite angry.
“Let’s go shopping, then,” he says sternly as he turns
on his heel and heads for the door, opening it wide for me.
“When was the last time you were in a supermarket?”
Christian looks out of place, but he follows me
dutifully, holding a shopping basket.
“I can’t remember.”
“Does Mrs. Jones do all the shopping?”
“I think Taylor helps her. I’m not sure.”
“Are you happy with a stir-fry? It’s quick.”
“Stir-fry sounds good.” Christian grins, no doub一t
figuring out my ulterior motive for a speedy meal.
“Ha一ve they worked for you long?”
“Ha一ve they worked for you long?”
“Taylor, four years, I think. Mrs. Jones about the
same. Why didn’t you ha一ve any food in the apartment?”
“You know why,” I murmur, flushing.
“It was you who left me,” he mutters disapprovingly.
“I know,” I reply in a small voice, not wanting that
reminder.
We reach the checkout and silently stand in line.
If I hadn’t left, would he ha一ve offered the vanilla
alternative? I wonder idly.
“Do you ha一ve anything to drink?” He pulls me back to
the present.
“Beer . . . I think.”
“I’ll get some wine.”
Oh dear. I’m not sure what sort of wine is a一vailable in
Ernie’s Supermarket. Christian remerges empty handed,
grimacing with a look of disgust.
“There’s a good liquor store next door,” I say quickly.
“I’ll see what they ha一ve.”
Maybe we should just go to his place, then we
wouldn’t ha一ve all this hassle. I watch as he strolls
purposefully and with easy grace out of the door. Two
women coming in stop and stare. Oh yes, eye my Fifty
Shades, I think despondently.
I want the memory of him i
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