“I would like to return these shoes,” said Emily to the sales girl and handed her the bill.

“Are they damaged?” asked the sales girl.

“No. Just that these pointed heels seem uncomfortable. I tripped twice wearing them during my trial dance classes.”

“Apologies ma'am! It's been a month since your date of purchase. A return is impossible. However, you may buy a more comfortable pair of shoes at a discounted price.”

“Women and shoes! Perhaps they love flaunting…or rather failing at their gravity-defying skills.” Emily heard someone behind her exclaim with a chuckle.

With a flushed face as Emily turned around, the tall man who appeared to be in his late twenties pretended to look sideways. 

“And shouldn't you mind your business, Pointy Nose?”

“Ooh! Offended already?!” he replied in a sing-song voice.

Emily glowered and scanned him from head to toe.

“Do you realize how shabbily dressed you are? Faded shirt with buttons hanging loose, jeans pleading to be washed, and, coming to your muddy shoes…ooh la la! The laces in your shoes seem to be your pet's favorite.” 

“Stop being such a Karen! I'm dressed comfortably.”

“Calling me names already?! I don't wish to waste my time arguing with you anymore.” Emily stomped her foot and proceeded to purchase a new pair of shoes.

After scanning the racks for ten minutes she chose a pair of sneakers.

Soon she went to the billing counter and swiped her credit card.

“Ma'am! There seems to be a problem with your card. Do you have cash?” asked the salesgirl.

“Nope,” said Emily worriedly.

“Let me!” Emily saw him cut the line with a shoebox in his hand.

“Seriously?! Can't you wait to buy yours?” Emily glared at him.

“Ma'am! He has already bought his. He paid for your shoes,” said the sales girl.

Emily was puzzled as he handed her the shoes.

“Why? You didn't have to.” Emily was unable to comprehend the reason for his behavior.

“I shouldn't have uttered those nasty remarks and spoil your mood. Please consider this gesture my way of apologizing. Sorry!” His words seemed genuine.

“I was equally nasty. Sorry! I guess we are even. By the way, I'm Emily–a banking assistant,” said Emily stifling a smile.

“Hi, Emily! I'm Jake, a construction engineer…and a salsa instructor by passion.” Despite his shabby appearance Jake seemed to exude an unusual charisma. 

“Salsa? Wow, Jake, how exciting! Learning salsa is a forgotten dream for me. I had to quit even before enrolling. Those shoes are highly uncomfortable.”

“Just wear sneakers. All you need is a will to dance. I can teach you.”

“Really?  I'd love to, Jake. When is the session?” Though Emily was hesitant she couldn't refuse when Jake gazed at her intently.

“In an hour, at the dance studio next door. Can we grab a coffee before that…Karen…I mean Emily? ” Jake winked at her.

“Okie, Pointy Nose…I mean Jake!” Emily chuckled. She felt a tingle as his hands brushed against hers.

 ***