That morning, Angie didn't have much planned. She'd woken up early, her apartment quiet—almost too quiet. After a quick breakfast, she slipped into a pair of light denim mini shorts that hugged her curves, an ivory tank top that flattered her silhouette, and white sneakers. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun, and with her keys in hand, she stepped out without any particular destination. Eventually, she ended up at the supermarket, no shopping list, just a need to move.
She strolled slowly through the aisles, her fingers trailing along the packets of vegetables and cans of soup, when a deep, teasing voice she recognized pulled her out of her thoughts.
— "Well, well… I didn't know top models did their shopping here."
Angie turned quickly, already smiling as her eyes found Grégory.
— "And I didn't know Prince Charming stocked up on plain yogurt," she replied, meeting his gaze.
He held a small basket with a baguette, a bottle of orange juice, and a carton of eggs. His navy-blue polo hugged his shoulders just enough, and his tousled hair gave him a charmingly disheveled look.
— "What can I say? Gotta feed the beast," he said with a wink.
— "You call that body 'the beast'? Looks more like a cereal commercial model to me," she shot back with a laugh.
— "I'll take it. Compliments are rare. Keep going."
They laughed together, earning a few glances from nearby shoppers. The vibe between them was easy, comfortable—almost conspiratorial. It felt good to Angie, who hadn't felt this light in a while.
— "Got a mission here?" she asked, eyeing his basket.
— "Just a quick restock. You?"
— "I'm pretending to be busy so I can avoid organizing my cupboards. Believable?"
— "Totally. You're pulling off the 'tomato connoisseur' look perfectly."
— "Thanks. I rehearsed in front of the mirror this morning."
They laughed again.
— "Wanna grab a coffee?" he offered suddenly, eyes bright. "There's a cozy little café just around the corner."
She hesitated for a moment. It was simple. Friendly. And yet, her heartbeat quickened just a little.
— "Why not? But fair warning—if the coffee's bad, I'm blaming you."
— "Deal. You can file a complaint at my imaginary law firm."
---
A Stolen Moment
The little café tucked on the corner near the supermarket had a floral terrace with a few wooden tables under a cream-colored awning. They sat across from each other, steaming cups in hand, a slice of cake to share between them.
— "So," Angie said between bites, "what's a guy like you doing out solo on a Saturday morning without Jessica?"
— "She's at her sister's place today. They're having some kind of girls' brunch. Apparently, I wasn't invited."
— "Too much testosterone, I guess."
— "And you? Shouldn't you be on a world tour or dazzling TV sets?"
— "My concert's tomorrow. Today I'm pretending to have a social life."
— "You're very convincing. Almost had me fooled."
She laughed, her eyes twinkling. The sun gently warmed her bare arms, and everything felt light and easy. She was completely herself.
— "You know," she added, twirling her spoon, "I think I prefer this to the big glamorous events."
— "Strawberries and coffee under a sunshade?"
— "Exactly. And especially the people I share it with."
He looked up at her, surprised. Then smiled softly. She lowered her gaze, caught off guard by her own honesty.
To lighten the mood, she asked:
— "So what's your guilty pleasure at the supermarket? And don't lie—I'll judge you."
— "Chocolate cereal. The kind for kids."
— "Wait… with the little stars and the tiger on the box?"
— "That's the one. Don't look at me like that. I stand by it."
She burst out laughing, shaking her head.
— "I'm shocked. Disappointed, even."
— "You won't break me that easily. I've been through worse."
— "Alright. Then I admit… I'm addicted to salt and vinegar chips."
— "Now we're getting somewhere. We're opening up. You see? We have a future, Angie."
She rolled her eyes playfully.
— "Easy there, Mister Grand Statements."
A comfortable silence followed as they sipped their coffee and watched passersby. Angie felt her heart floating in a bubble. Grégory made her feel at ease. Too at ease? Maybe. But she didn't want to think too hard. Right now, it was just a coffee between two adults who enjoyed each other's company.
---
A Sweet Note
When they got up to leave, Grégory insisted on paying. She protested for form's sake but gave in with a smile.
— "Well," she said, adjusting her bag strap, "that was a stolen moment… but a nice one."
— "Stolen? I prefer 'borrowed from everyday life.' Sounds less guilty."
— "I like how you phrase things."
— "It's a talent. Frustrated artist, remember?"
— "You're doing just fine."
They exchanged one last glance—a bit longer than intended. Then Angie took a small step back.
— "Alright, I'd better go. Or I'll end up buying throw pillows and lamps when I came for strawberries."
— "We should do this again sometime."
— "Yes. But only if you wear that same polo. It's my new lucky charm."
— "Deal."
She laughed, turned away, and walked off without looking back.
But a soft, uncontrollable smile still danced on her lips.