Page 3 of Eat Me

I quickly walk to the reds section, pausing to grab my favorite brand of wine, Stella Rosa. It sounds fancy, it tastes good, and it’s cheap. With my shopping done, I quickly make my way towards the registers, getting in line and giving a small wave to the cashier who perks up when she sees me. I helped train her in before I quit and it’s good to see her again.

Fifteen minutes later, ten of which was just us chatting and catching up, I leave the store, and shivering lightly at the cool wind that’s blowing around me. Glancing up I see a cloudy sky. Biting my lip, the only thing that crosses my mind is, shit. If it starts to rain I’ll be fucked. I left my umbrella at home but even if I didn’t have it, both of my hands are full with grocery bags.

When my car died four years ago, it never got revived, so I have to walk or ride the bus to get everywhere. Sighing in frustration, and gritting my teeth, I begin the fifteen minute trek home, praying I make it before it rains. My pace is brisk as I walk, my cheeks are a bit flushed from the chill in the air, and the clouds are darkening into the tall tale sign of a storm. I'm a little more than halfway home, if the weather could hold off until then, that would mean luck was on my side.

“Or not...” I whisper as I glare at the red stop hand that’s flashing at me. Of course it would change to that the second Iapproach it. This damn light has to have a vendetta against me or something. it always changes to the opposite of what I want and not only that, oh no, it takes twice as long to switch over, and it only seems to happen when I’m standing there. Glaring at the thing, I swear it’s taunting me by the robotic voice recording telling me to stop as if to rub it in.

The unease I’ve been feeling only grows more intense as I stand here waiting for this stupid thing to change colors. I could chalk my goosebumps up to the chilly wind, but I know better. Only using my eyes, I try to look around to see if there is in fact anything or anyone to see.

Chapter Three

Victoria

My uneasy feeling gets a swift kick when it begins to rain. Not only does it begin to pour, and I mean seriously pour, it’s like one continuous sheet of water bearing down on me. As if that’s not enough by itself, the handles of some of the bags start to tear and my bangs keep sticking to my face making it hard to see. As if all that isn’t bad enough, my bangs are making me want to scratch my face to move them, but my hands are full of bags. This is torture, I don’t know what God I pissed off, but damn, I must have done a good job.

Grumbling under my breath I finally see the entrance to my building. I’m soaked to the bone, and shivering like a leaf in the wind. I wish I had paid more attention to the news, or at least the weather. My teeth are starting to chatter as I finally escape the torrential downpour. Reaching the large archway, I set my bags down and finally free my face from the hair currently plastered to it. Giving my nose a good scratching, I release asigh of absolute relief. It’s not until you can’t do something that you realize how much youreallywant to do it. My hands are throbbing from the weight of the bags digging into them. Rubbing one palm with one hand and then the other I shake them to get the tingles to go away. Blood flow returning to my white fingers.

I quickly dig in my bag and grab my keys to the front entrance door. Unlocking it and pulling it open I prop it open with my foot as I twist to pull my key out of the lock. Quickly looking through the keys on the ring, I spot the one I need. The white cat key was a good choice for my house key, no more fumbling around like a madwoman.

I smile as I move to place it between my teeth. Task done, I lean down to gather up the bags. My fingers throbbing in protest, but I quickly kick open the door making to fly back. No longer having to hold it, I quickly enter the doorway and release a grunt as it slams behind me. I have the timing down to a science, hell, it's pure muscle memory now.

Counting the steps in my head, I’m willing my tired, aching muscles to hold on just a bit longer. My whole body sags in relief as I step up to my apartment door. Shuffling all the bags in my left hand down to the crook of my elbow, I strain to reach up with my now free hand to grab my key. With shaky hands I unlock my door and shove it open, key still in the lock. I lurched into the doorway, shifting my position. Of course the door slams into my side as I set the bags down from one hand and turn to grab the bags that were right outside the door.

All my bags in the entryway I quickly take my key out of the lock and let the door shut behind me. Subconsciously I lock it and release a big sigh. My arms are burning from carrying all those bags, but the rain collecting in the plastic bags made them even heavier. Hence, causing a few of the handles to snap, and now I have water all over my entryway. I’ll deal with it later, rightnow I have to quickly put away my groceries. After I finish I can get out of these wet clothes and into a nice hot shower and slip into bed before something else happens to make this day any worse.

It seems my luck is horrible these days. Not only did I wake up late for my shift, but I almost snap my neck slipping on the water in the entryway from last night. On top of that, I have the sniffles. I swear to God, if I get sick…

The thought of missing work is completely unacceptable. No work means no money, no money means no place to live, and no food to eat. Okay, that was a bit dramatic, but still, it lit a fire under my ass that got me out of bed into my work clothes and out the door. Running my hands through my hair in an attempt to make it look less like I just rolled out of bed and more of a cute messy ponytail at a music festival. I might be behind a bar, but I still have to look semi-professional.

Twenty minutes later into my shift, I heard a familiar whistle, a small smile blossoms on my face and I turn to face my regular. Even if I’m not feeling well I will still greet my regulars like normal. Besides, it’s kind of dead tonight. It usually is until around eight, after that people will start pouring in and stay until last call.

Pouring the drink he prefers, I grab his drink and a coaster and carry them over to him. Setting the coaster down and placing his drink on it, I lean on the bar behind me as I pick up a freshly rinsed cup and begin to dry it, might as well get some work done as we chat.

Viktor arches an eyebrow at me as he picks up his glass and sips from it, making me flush. There’s an awkward silence, so filling it with small talk is always a bartender’s friend.

“Yesterday was not my day, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, and now I’m getting a cold from the monsoon that randomly dumped on us.” I grumble under my breath, whileavoiding eye contact with Viktor, yet the sound of him putting down his drink makes me look up to give him my attention.

“Didn’t you check the weather? Even just one day of the last week? They’ve been projecting this storm for a week and a half.”

His voice is light, taking away any seriousness of the scolding he’s giving me. Rolling my eyes dramatically, I set the now dry glass down, grabbing another wet one, I begin to dry it.

“No. I guess I don’t really pay attention to the news. The few times I get to watch tv it’s mostly background noise for me as I do chores, read or something.”

I’ve never been much of a TV person. I’d rather read a book or listen to some music as I draw. I don’t like silence, it makes me nervous, and the sound of the TV is soothing white noise that helps me relax.

Viktor gave a snort into his glass, having taken another sip during my explanation. “So, if there was a serial killer running around kidnapping young innocent women, you’d have no idea?”

Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, I give him a small smile as I notice someone waving me down from across the bar. “Honestly, if it was that bad, I’m sure I’d hear about it from word of mouth. You wouldn’t believe how chatty some people get after a few drinks. I know things about people I wish I could forget, buuuut, I seem to have another customer, so I’ll be right back after getting him situated.”

I give him a small wave as I walk over to the man waving me down. He is rather handsome, with his blond locks that look soft to the touch and deep green eyes that seem to sparkle with mischief as he blatantly checks me out. Of course, this hottie shows up on a day when I look and feel like a hot mess wrapped in shit. Forcing a smile, I stop in front of him, feeling a light flush dusting my cheeks as I meet his gaze head on. I don’t shy away even though we both know I saw him checking me out.

“What can I get you, stranger?”

Oh my god, the second it escapes my mouth, I want to die. That was so corny. I’m going to blame it on the cold medicine I've been popping like tic-tacs. He gives a light chuckle as he leans on the bar, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, as his other arm rests on the bar top, his fingers tapping as if in deep thought.

“Hmm...how about a Lemon Drop?”

I blink not expecting him to order such a drink. I was actually expecting something with more frat boy vibes, either a Jag bomb or a cranberry vodka. Pleasantly surprised, I nod and begin to pull out the items I need to make the drink. It’s rarely ever ordered, so some of the things needed to make it are buried under other things. I’m able to easily fall into light conversation with him. Years of being a bartender has left a mark on me.

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