The July sun was doing the best it could to bake the hair on her head this afternoon.  A trickle of unwelcome perspiration trailed between Talia's shoulder blades as she maneuvered her cart through the parking lot to her SUV.   The hair at her temples had curled into honey-colored corkscrews and she could feel the freckles on her face getting darker by the second.  She was not a fan of summer unless she was lounging on her shaded patio with a glass of wine, which was exactly what she planned to do once she got these groceries home and unloaded.  .

The workers in the store had been nice enough to load her cart with the groceries  but now she was on her own to transfer the heavy purchases into to the back of her truck. Five bags of groceries plus two cases of bottled water  - by the time she finished loading that she would be dripping with sweat.  Resigning herself to the inevitable,  Talia unlocked the truck, opened the trunk and prepared to break more than a sweat.  She reached for the first bag.

"May I help you with that?"

Talia glanced up from her task, a hand wrapped around the cloth handle of one grocery bag and blinked behind her shades.  She'd always laugh at the stories where "a friend of a friend" -never anyone whom the storyteller knew personally - met the hottest hunk in the parking lot of the grocery store, the home improvement store...whatever store.  She could smell the bullshit a mile away.  The only people she saw in these lots were housewives and old folks.  Her schedule allowed her to grocery shop during the week, avoiding the weekend crush. But here, right in front of her was her own parking lot story.

"What?" she said, feeling like her brain had been fried by the sun. 

"Here." 

He reached around her and grabbed two grocery bags, slid them into the trunk and grabbed two more. 

Talia opened her mouth to protest then  merely said, "Thank you."  She was in no imminent danger at two pm in the afternoon in  the Stop and Shop parking lot.  Besides, letting him load the purchases took the burden off her overheated shoulders and allowed her to get a good look at her parking lot knight.

And what a good look it was.  He was a couple of inches over six feet.  His dark, curling hair brushed the base of his neck and waved over his forehead to just over straight eyebrows of the same color.  He had the kind of muscled shoulders and arms  that pushed against the cotton of his faded t-shirt in a careless way, as if the shirt had shrunk.  She hated the vain ones who looked like they bought their shirts a size too small in purpose. 

What made her lick her lips was the strip of tan, smooth skin that was exposed when he leaned over to slide the cases of water in the trunk.

"There you go."  He brushed his hands together and pushed  his hair back from his forehead.  He slammed the truck and took hold of the cart. "I'll take this back up for you."

"Thank you, again," she said and turned to get into her truck.  "I appreciate your help."

"I live to serve," he said.

Talia paused for a second before sliding into the driver seat.  Serve.  Not  "you're welcome" or "have a nice day" or even "what's your phone number" but  "I live to serve."   .  Leaving her door open, she walked back  to the rear of her truck.  Her helpful stranger had begun walking away, pushing the green cart ahead of him. 

"Excuse me," Talia called and crossed her arms.  "I'd like to speak with you."

He abandoned the cart in an empty parking space and walked back to where she was standing.  She slid off her sunglasses so she could get a better look. Letting her gaze wander over his body, she detected no jewelry, nothing that would indicate that he was a submissive, a toy, a pet.

His dark brown gaze met hers for a fleeting moment before dropping to the asphalt. 

"What's your name?" Talia asked.

"Eric Parker." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card.  "Pro Hills Construction."

Talia considered for a moment.  One of her submissives had moved.  Too far away to drive in their sessions he'd had to sever their relationship.  Her other two sub worked during the day and were only available on the weekends,  which was why she was out here lugging groceries herself instead of sending a boy. However, it was important to vet her subs;  there were a lot of crazy people out there. 

She took the card from him.  "Well, Eric. I do my shopping every Wednesday about this time--

"I know , you were recommended to me by Michael."

Talia slid her sunglasses back on to hide her pleased expression. Though she had been joking when she'd asked him to recommend another sub, she was glad he'd taken her at her word.   Michael had left her with a very nice gift indeed.   But this one definitely needed training.

 "If you know Michael then you know not to interrupt me when I am speaking. "  She gave him another up and down look, doing everything in her power not to jump up and down with glee.  It would be a pleasure to train this one.  "I expect you here next Wednesday."

"What time, Mistress?"

"No."  Talia shook her head.  "I am not your Mistress, not yet.  You have to prove  yourself worthy of my attentions.  Until then, you may call me Talia.  As for the time, hmmm."  Testing patience and willingness was one of the first steps for a sub.   "Sometime between eleven and three."  She raised an eyebrow.  "I trust that won't be a problem?"

"No, it won't."

"Very good then.  When you see me, I will give you a list with very specific instructions.  You will shop with the money I give you, then load the groceries to my truck."  She favored him with a small smile.  "Wednesday, rain or shine. Goodbye, Eric."

"Goodbye, Talia."