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I ensure we collide, hard enough to knock the bags out of her hands, but not so hard as to hurt her. Both bags slip from her grip and tumble to the ground. A gallon of milk explodes across the pavement. There’s a sound of shattering glass, and cracked eggs leak yellow yolk over the remnants.
That went perfectly. Now it’s time to reel her in.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, turning to Emma. Her pale, white face is red with rage. She’s looking at her scattered belongings across the pavement floor.
“What the hell were you…” a hiccup pauses her frustrations as I fall into her vision, reaching to pick up anything that can be saved. “…doing?”
Perhaps it’s the unnerved fear I force on my face, or the way I try to remedy the situation. Either way, Emma is lonely and I’m a handsome man, dressed in an all-black suit, pristinely combed slick back hair, and doing my best to stay charming. No sneer returns to Emma’s face, nor infuriation or frustration, only intrigue – that’s my in.
“I wasn’t thinking, I got some bad news, and I guess it left me wondering,” I reply. I lift a loaf of bread that spills from leakage of her bags. It’s coated in milk, egg, and something sour smelling. I drop the loaf back atop the waste pile. “Look, I’ll replace everything I ruined.”
“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.”
“It’s not right to leave a damsel in distress,” I smile, forcing a chuckle. Both feel foreign and uncomfortable. “I’m going in anyway. What are a few more items in my bag?”
“Please, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important, anyway,” she says.
This is my only shot. If I lose Emma, now, I’ll have to come up with an entirely new plan. She’s tempted, but not biting.
“Besides, I could use the company. I hate shopping alone,” I throw in, as she tries declining again. Her red face turns to pink, blushing and embarrassed, maybe even a little excited.
“Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?” Emma replies. “But I can’t expect you to pay for my things. It wouldn’t be right.”
“If you’re not going to let me buy the groceries I splattered across the floor, a least you’ve got to let me make it up to you somehow?” I get back to my feet, after another short inspection of the scattered debris of her shopping. I deem everything in the bags worthless.
“Is that right?” Emma’s got a naughty smile on her face, now. She knows what I’m going to say next. She’s hanging on my every word.
“Let me buy you dinner sometime, since I made a mess of yours tonight. You said it yourself, it wouldn’t be right if you don’t accept,” I wink.
I already know what her answer will be, because I’ve been in this position before. Good looks, a charming personality, and a show of kindness are enough to attract anyone. Her face twitches, and her eyes wander from me to the parking lot, and back again. The cogs in her head are firing off, debating my offer.
“Dinner you say? Well, I guess you’re right,” she finally speaks again. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to decline such an inviting offer.”
That was it, the first phase of my plan complete. I have Emma Blake on the ropes, and she’s too awe-struck to realize it. We enter the store together, walking down the aisles chit-chatting. Another date planned, very much as Tara Slater’s was a few days earlier, all with devious intentions in the fine print.
