I had been working at the Save Mart for quite a while. Mr. Clark, or as I like to affectionately call him, "Sneezy," is the owner of the supermarket, and I, Belle French, am just a humble cashier. I never expected one day that I would be swept off of my feet, nor would I have even dreamed that the life I had been living, the memories that I had were supplications from a land I could barely remember. All of that changed the day Mr. Gold walked through the Save Mart, and checked out on my line.

It had been a slow morning, and there were no customers in the store because it was a weekday. That meant that the children were in school, and their parents were off at work. I decided to help Sneezy stock the shelves, so I left a small silver bell at my register in case someone needed me. I packed out cans of tomato sauce, humming as I worked, and once I finished with that, I began to roam the aisles, noting on the items that were not in stock on the shelves. Just as I was fishing out a piece of paper from my work apron to write down the products that we needed from the back room, I heard my bell sound.

I cursed, since I was all the way over in the paper products aisle, and it was a long way back to my register. I walked as quickly as I could, but the bell kept ringing, as if the customer was growing more and more impatient at the fact that I was not there to ring them up. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" I cried as I raced to my register. "Sheesh! No need to break my bell. I'm sorry, I was busy stocking the shelves."

I looked up, and was taken aback at the sight of the customer. He glowered at me impatiently, his teeth gritted and bared, showing a flash of a golden tooth. "When I am ready to check out, I expect someone to be here to give me the service I desire, Miss... ah. Belle."

I flushed, hating the fact that he had read my name tag, and for the fact that Mr. Clark ordered me to wear it in the first place. "Well, then. Let me get you out as soon as possible. A man like you must be in a terrible rush for something important."

I eyed his black suit and his bold red tie as I began to scan his few items. Then I noticed his cane, and wondered if he used it as a walking aid, pimp cane, or just to be fancy. Judging by the way he appeared, I was going with appearing fancy.

"I am in a rush," growled the man. "But, despite your insolence, I will let you off this one time because you are beautiful."

I turned crimson at his words. "Surely, you wouldn't report me to Mr. Clark," I asked as I handed him his bags. "I am the only cashier here, and it's Tuesday sir. I was doing my job."

"Missy, in case you don't know who I am," said the man as he leaned forward. His face was a foot away from mine, and I felt intimidated and nervous, like a little girl. "I'm Mr. Gold. I OWN this town, as well as all of the people in it. If I were to say... go to Mr. Clark and tell him what a horrible cashier you are, and that if he didn't fire you, that I would triple his rent, he would kick you out on that lovely shaped behind of yours."

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. This guy, this Mr. Gold, was seriously freaking me out. "W-well, if there is anything I could do to remedy the situation that I have caused to offend you so much, Mr. Gold?"

Mr. Gold smirked as he gathered his bags in his hand. "You can have dinner with me tonight at my house."

"W-what?" I stammered.

"I live up the road from my pawn shop," Mr. Gold continued. "I'll write down my address. Come over around seven." He took out a business card, and wrote down his address on the back of it, then handed it to me. "I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Belle."

And with that, Mr. Gold left the shop, leaving me speechless and dumbfounded that he had asked me out after all of that.