By Judy Salz
Eyes narrowed to slits and lips curled into a sneer, his contorted face oozed rage. His hand whipped out, encircling her slender wrist in a vice-like grip.
“How could you?” he rasped…
* * *
New to her tony neighborhood, Janice wandered the aisles of her local supermarket stocking her kitchen with the necessities for upscale living—wine, gourmet cheeses, artisan breads, and of course, organic fruit. She reached for a pineapple but pulled her hand back when a young man got there first. It went into his shopping cart, and he moved on. Tall, well dressed and near her age, he had simultaneously piqued her interest and annoyed her for not offered her the fruit. They met again at the meat counter. This time her hand reached the filets before his, and she decided to teach him a lesson in politeness.
Reaching out, she offered him the package. “There are more where these came from.”
“No. It was yours first, but thanks.” His resonant voice pleased her.
He shook his head emphatically. “Yes. It does to me.”