Supply Shortage Showdown Read online

  Supply Shortage Showdown

  Covid Love #2

  Cat Burkina

  Copyright © 2020 Cat Burkina

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Elisha Frey

  Printed in the United States of America

  “You are not a loser,” Maria’s mom said. “Your sister’s a loser, we all know that.” Her piercing laugh forced Maria’s head from her cellphone.

  “Not you, no,” her mom continued, “you’re the successful one, our college graduate living in the city.”

  Maria wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Her mom’s words barely touched the coldness that had descended on her like a frozen blanket she couldn’t seem to get rid of. “I’m divorced with two kids who I can’t even take care of in a crisis. If that doesn’t deserve the label loser, then--”

  “Stop it.” Her mother’s tone was hard as oak. It was the voice of the scrappy mom who’d brought up Maria, her sister, and two brothers all on her own.

  It brought tears to Maria’s eyes.

  “This virus will not be the end of our family.” Her mother clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “It will not be the end of you. It will not be the end of my grandchildren. We are stronger than this.”

  “Thank you, Mama. I know we are.” Maria sat on the couch she’d bought with her first paycheck working at Moon Venture Games. Dark green microfiber, smooth and clean the way she kept her small Salt Lake City townhome. News glared from the muted television on the wall across from her. COVID-19 this, and COVID-19 that. Failure gripped her chest, squeezed the air out of her until she could hardly draw a breath.

  “Maria. Maria, are you there?”

  “I’m here.” No matter how Maria tried to shake it, she knew to the core that she’d failed her children. They had no food storage, no emergency water or extra cases of toilet paper. She delighted in her weekly shopping trips to the market with Ameli, her sweet-as-sugar three-year-old, and Serg, her gem of a five-year-old. They made life worth living. Home cooked meals with the freshest ingredients were what their growing bodies needed. Maria knew it, and it had always been a priority to buy fresh. Not once had she thought her frequent grocery shopping trips would have to end. With the increasingly locked down city, the looming curfews, quarantines, and jackasses hoarding everything. Toilet paper! Why toilet paper? It didn’t make sense. None if it made sense, and she hadn’t been prepared for such a world. She should have been. Her children deserved better.

  “I’d better go.” Maria walked down her townhome’s unlit hallway, stopping at the cracked door to her son’s room. His chest rose and fell in the faint blue light from his superhero night light. The night light kept him safe, he’d said.

  “Okay. You are a wonderful woman, and the best daughter in the world. You sacrifice like a true mother for Ameli and Serg. We all see it, even if you can’t. This virus will pass and we will be stronger.”

  Pressure welled behind Maria’s eyes. “I love you, Mama.” She bit her lip, held back the tears she’d wanted to release the moment her mother answered the phone that night. “Goodnight.” Maria shut her bedroom door and let the tears come.

  ◆◆◆

  “Hey, you listen to me,” Maria crouched down to be eye-to-eye with her son. He had his father’s honey brown gaze, inquisitive, intense, almost too serious for a child.

  “I love you and your sister more than anything in the world.”

  “What about hazelnut lattes?” A grin showed two missing front teeth.

  “You got me!” She tickled his ribs until he bent over cackling and wheezing onto her shoulder.

  “I love you mom.” Serg wrapped his arms around Maria’s neck and hugged her with surprising strength.

  In such strange times, how could she leave them at daycare? How could she be separated from them while the media spouted death and chaos, and her very city folded in on itself like a daylily preparing for a sleep that could last months. But she had to do it. Daycare was only open for two more days, so she had to take advantage of the time to get supplies. She would stock up on everything they needed. She would be a responsible mother, prepared for the unknown weeks to come.

  “Okay, go now. Have fun, but not too much fun!”

  “Okay, bye!” Serge waived as he turned and ran inside the red brick building. He high-fived a skinny kid covered in freckles and topped with the brightest red hair Maria had ever seen.

  She made her way down the daycare sidewalk, past parents with face masks and wide eyes. There was no way it was that bad yet, but when it got there, Maria would be ready.

  ◆◆◆

  Maria punched the start button and her car rumbled to life.

  9:49 a.m. stood on the dashboard screen.

  The daycare was open until 5pm. A wave of relief washed through Maria; she had plenty of time to do the right thing now. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Costcart, the big boxed store she’d been a member of for the last five years, since right after she’d had Serg. It was hard to beat the price of diapers by the pallet, plus they had a fantastic food court with cheap hot dogs and pizza by the slice that Ameli and Serg loved.

  ◆◆◆

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” A line of shoppers wrapped from Costcart’s wide front doors down the sidewalk past the car care center, and disappeared behind the building.

  Costcart’s parking lot was like a Black Friday sale on steroids. Maria pulled into one of the last spots available at the far end of the parking lot, near the Costcart gas station where equally long lines of cars waited as if the world’s oil supply had suddenly vanished.

  Maria made it to the end of the line behind an ancient woman in a velvet tracksuit the color of orangutan hair.

  The line to get inside the building had grown even longer in the five minutes it took Maria to find a parking spot. More and more people walked up in singles or pairs to wait patiently six feet behind the next patron.

  10:36 a.m. Maria stuffed her phone back into her purse. Waiting in line for anything was near the top of her list of the things she hated most in life. That her children’s safety depended on her getting through this line didn’t help her nerves. And what if the line took hours to move a few feet? Dread drifted across her thoughts, coloring every single one in a dismal gray film. She knew it was stupid to think that it could take six hours to get through the lines, but sometimes it was too easy to let a situation creep under your skin.

  Relax and count to thirty.

  Breathe in and out.

  Just like yoga class.

  Maria willed the negativity away, pulled in clean, hopeful air with each deep breath, and exhaled all the bad.

  It could have been nothing, but her shoulders felt lighter after three repetitions of clean breathing, and after another five minutes of it, waiting in line was completely bearable.

  From then on the line seemed to move quicker. Before long she was around the corner, past the car care center, and nearly to the front door.

  Two groups ahead in line stood a chic couple who could have been straight out of LA. They held hands and chatted as if nothing at all was wrong in the world. The man’s skin tight jeans fabulously gripped his thighs and ass.

  How long had it been since she’d been out with a guy? Eight months? Nine? She could have had another child in the amount of time it had been since
she’d last been fucked. That was pretty pathetic. The thoughts brought back a film of negativity that Maria tried to push out of her mind. Today was about her kids, not about her pathetic love life. Maybe not completely pathetic. Her list of why her sex toy collection was better than a man seemed to grow every week; no talking back, no attitude, they didn’t drink all her wine, didn’t care what she looked like naked, and she could use them whenever she liked. It had been a while since she’d last bought a toy; she’d have to go check out her favorite site when she got home to see if they’d got anything new in stock.

  “Please have your membership cards out and ready to show at the door.” A Costcart worker in the same bright red vest as all the other Costcart employees called from the front of the line.

  Maria was jolted back to reality and she dug for her card.

  “Oh, hell no.”

  The slot in her purse where she kept her membership card was empty.

  “No, no, no.” Of course this would happen to her, today, after waiting in this godforsaken line for almost an hour.

  Serg and Ameli came to mind and Maria dug harder, only barely crushing the urge to dump the entire damned purse out onto the ground. “No, no, no.” But the card was nowhere. “Shit.”

  “Have you checked your pockets?” Of course the thirty-something hot guy behind her had noticed her panicking.

  Heat rose to her throat, her face. “I, no, not yet.” Front pockets of her jeans; nope. Her hand hit hard plastic in her back pocket. “No!” She pulled out a worn Costcart card with her picture and name on the back. “Yes!” Her face was the surface of the sun, but she’d found it! All negativity blasted from her being and she wanted to plaster the man with kisses and more to show her gratitude. “I’d kiss you, but you know, social distancing and all.”

  The hot guy’s smile only made her want to go home and revisit her toy collection even more. “I would gladly accept if, you know.” The hot guy motioned as if an invisible barrier stood between them. “But better safe than sorry, I guess.”

  “I guess so.” It felt like Maria had won the lottery.

  “Next members, please.” The Costcart employee’s words made the line surge forward as if he’d said they’d restocked toilet paper.

  With all worries of not being able to provide for her children gone, Maria followed the orangutan tracksuit into the store.

  ◆◆◆

  Maria found herself humming a Cranberries song from the late nineties that always seemed to come to mind when things were going well.

  In no time, the shopping list on her phone had dwindled to nothing and her cart was full to the top with non-perishables like Super Power Protein Cakes pancake mix and double packs of peanut butter. She’d found plenty of laundry detergent, paper towels, olive oil, quinoa, canned tomatoes, beans, and those glass jars of massive green olives stuffed with pimento bits that went well with a post-work glass of Merlot. All in all it had been a fantastic shopping experience.

  After racking her brain for the best thing to eat for dinner that night, beef came out the clear winner. She’d never once cooked steak and not had Sergio and Ameli calling for more from in front of their empty plates at the dinner table. Both of her kids liked vegetables and fruit more than chocolate or french fries. She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky on so many levels. Cooking for Serg and Ameli was one of the most fulfilling things she did in life and she got to do it every day. Tonight the kids would eat steak, and when they begged for seconds, she’d deliver.

  She heaved her loaded shopping cart to a stop against the edge of the long, open-topped refrigerator lining Costcart’s back wall. Behind the span of refrigerators stood wide windows offering shoppers a glimpse of where butchers should have been hard at work. On the white wall above the windows the word beef was painted in bright red block letters.

  Maria’s breath caught and her heart sank like an anchor chained to her shoulders, hips, knees. Sheets of steel metal grating stared at her from the bottom of the empty refrigerators. In the space where tightly wrapped beef cuts the color of red wine were supposed to be, stood nothing at all.

  She had decided on steak for her children, so where was it? Why wasn’t it out with all the rest of the fresh food? Costcart wasn’t doing their damn job.

  And then it hit her like a slap to the face. It brought her down from the high of shopping for her children, back to the reality of pandemic and shortages of everything.

  The refrigerator across from the beef held no chicken, no fish, no pork.

  “No!” Rage welled inside her. She didn’t give a fuck that she could cook something else. She’d planned on steak, and now it was an unbreakable vow to her children far across the city playing happily in daycare with all of their friends.

  A glistening, red wine color caught her eye and the world slowed around her.

  The refrigerator hum disappeared; sound became absolute silence.

  Ten feet away in a standup refrigerator a tightly wrapped steak sat on its white styrofoam tray like an escaped fugitive. Tubs of 32oz hummus and Fancy Spice! single-serving guacamole cups towered on either side of it.

  Joy leapt inside Maria only to be punched down by the hot guy who’d been behind her in line outside. The one who’d helped her find her card. The one with the sit-on-my-face-right-now smile.

  He’d seen the steak too, and was heading straight for it.

  She dashed around the wide refrigerator separating her from the steak her children needed more than anything in this life.

  But Hot Guy was closer.

  She was ten feet away, he was five.

  She was four feet away, his hand touched the clear packaging.

  She was right behind him.

  He turned around, his eyes as wide as saucers as he leapt backward, slamming into the refrigerator. “Aah! Hey, whoa! Holy shit! I didn’t see you there.”

  Hummus tubs spilled sideways into the refrigerator.

  The steak in Hot Guy’s hands was a massive tri-tip cut, beautiful beneath the taught plastic.

  “I need that.” Maria pointed at the steak.

  His face crinkled in a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about smirk that sent Maria’s anger into overdrive. “Umm--”

  “I saw it first. I was over there and I started over before you.” She pointed to her abandoned shopping cart behind her. “I need it. I promised my kids.”

  “Well I need it too, and I got to it first.” He was still pressed backward into the refrigerator, hovering over the toppled hummus containers. “It’s the last one left. It’s like gold, or diamonds, or heroin.”

  He clearly didn’t understand. It was rightly hers.

  His smirk had vanished. He inched sideways, trying to sneak around her.

  She sidestepped. Every molecule of her being was focused on this man and his handful of meat. Her meat.

  “Listen,” he held up the package of steak, “I picked it up fair and square, okay? We can take it up with Costcart management if you’d like, but I’m leaving now.” He started forward to get around her and she intercepted him, her breasts pressing into his arm.

  The contact sent shivers through her chest, down her arms. Her nipples hardened beneath her shirt. “What do you want for it?” She’d seen it first, and she’d promised her kids that she’d make steak. Maybe it was stupid, and possibly irrational, but that steak was hers by right.

  “What?”

  “Listen.” It was as if Maria were looking down from outside herself, unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth. “What do you want for it?”

  “I--” He said.

  She pressed closer, wedging the steak in between their bodies. If he hadn’t felt her nipples against his arm before, then the look on his face said he did now.

  The hard lines of his chin were a foot from hers. He smelled like salty sweat and cologne. He could have walked out of a damned Calvin Klein ad, straight into Costcart. His tight black T-shirt and form fitting jeans left nothing to her imagination. For a split se
cond the steak took a back seat to another need burning inside her.

  “I. Uh,” he said.

  How long had it been since she’d let herself get away from work, or the kids? How long since she’d tasted a man? Too long. “Let me spell it out for you.” His scent was everywhere and she drank it in. “We’re going to check out of this place and I’m going to follow you to your car. After you put your stuff away you’re going to come to my car and I’m going to put my stuff away.”

  His eyes were wide as an owls, mouth open as if ready for her kiss, or her nipples, or anything at all as long as it was a part of her.

  “Then you’re going to climb into my minivan and I’m going to suck your cock.”

  “Hey, I--”

  She held a finger to his lips. They were soft, and warm, and begged for more. “And when you cum in my mouth, I’m going to swallow it like a good milf would.”

  “Uh.”

  “And then you’re going to leave that steak,” she tapped the tightly wrapped package, “in my van, and go on your way. Got it?”

  His face had gone redder than the beef sign on the wall above them. “Got it.”

  “Good.” She walked back to her cart, and with every step felt his eyes tracing the curve of her ass beneath her jeans. Her head sang with power, with purpose. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive, so in control. She looked over her shoulder, caught his gaze and winked.

  He blushed harder.

  ◆◆◆

  The sun shone brightly in the clear spring afternoon. It turned out that Hot Guy had parked his sleek, black Audi two spots down from Maria. A feeling of calm had pushed all of the anger and fear out of Maria’s mind. She felt strong and excited, as if she could do anything at all.

  “I’m going to go put all of my stuff away, right there.” She pointed to her minivan.

  “Oh, wow, right there?”

  “Yup. When you’re done, come over and get inside.”

  ◆◆◆