#interaction.ingrid

"Poppy sends her love," Sammy greeted, approaching the familiar porch that he build over a decade ago, still holding up... barely. The work wasn't his finest, but it wasn't like it was going to immediately blow over after a light windstorm and it always felt like he was coming home to it whenever he found himself there. He sat the bag of takeout containers in front of Ingrid, courtesy of Farm to Fork's to-go service... and his credit card, before settling nearby. "How was the bakery today? Steal any good pastries to bring home?"

The younger Williams flopped onto the blanket she laid out over the damp grass at the beginning of the night, dropping a few popcorn kernels from the bag she just purchased in the process. Tucked under her other arm were two unfortunately cold bottles of soda that she was quick to drop the small distance to the blanket once she sat down, handing one off to the woman next to her as the trailers for upcoming movies started playing on the screen in front of them while her car behind her played the sound for them from its radio. "Okay, I got us sodas and popcorn aaannd..." Molly drew out her transition as she grabbed two, now slightly crinkled, candy bars from her back pocket, "Two candy bars. Take your pick, both are fantastic choices. But in exchange, you have to give me some tea. What's been up with you lately?"

Sage offer the other an understanding smile and raise of her eyebrows with the joke. Having spent over four years in the industry and now being solely responsible for kicking out unsavory drunks, she completely understood where the bartender was coming from. She would need several dozen hands to count the number of times someone who had overdrank offered up something undesirable, whether it was conversation or flirting or straight up aggression. She hoped, for the most part, patrons here went easy on the woman serving her, though it seemed like she could more than handle herself if she needed to, another reason Sage had taken a liking to her. Finding bartenders who could handle a rough crowd was tough. "If there are bad things out there, people wouldn't dare say them to me," She mused, nodding as the other introduced herself. "It's nice to meet you, Ingrid. I'm Sage, I own The Jagged Yard a few blocks over."

Once Cora had a taste for the sweets that the cute baker could somehow create using just her hands, she couldn’t resist them, finding her way back to the bakery just days later in search for some much needed sweets. After moving out of Gabriel’s house and the rush and excitement of the unknown left her body, she couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about what was ahead for her. She was still ignoring Markus, didn’t have a job, and currently living with the best friend she had somehow developed unspoken feelings for. Her life was growing more complicated than she preferred and she was eager to bury that in conversation with said cute baker and the taste of the sweets she delivered. However upon entering the bakery, Cora noticed an unfamiliar face at the register. Equally as cute, but definitely not who she was expecting. “Any chance the owner of this place is in today? I was hoping she’d be able to recommend another life changing dessert for me to try.”

Things had been touch and go with the woman on the other side of his vendor space ever since their argument a few weeks prior, but that's how it always was with them. They fought, they made up (or made out), then they did it all over again. Of their own accord, of course. If he didn't want to, he wouldn't. But Ingrid was... Ingrid. She meant the world to him and he wasn't ever going to give that up (and he couldn't tell the truth and say he hated the fight at the same time). "You're scaring away all of my good customers, y'know," Sam called out in the direction of where the other was sifting through some smaller knick knacks and pieces he had displayed. What he said was the opposite of true. Typically, Ingrid helped sell more pieces than he did on a normal day when she wasn't bothering him at his stand during the farmer's market. She just had something convincing about her. "Shouldn't you be bothering pool boy or your new roommate anyway?"

There weren't many places she'd trade an entire guest house with a pool view for, but Ingrid's home was one of them, and that night she found herself comfortably sprawled out on the other's couch, with a mouth full of popcorn they've experimented with homemade caramel drizzle on, most of it a bittersweet burnt flavor. "So let me get this straight," Molly questioned once she'd swallowed most of the popcorn. "You're still associating with my brother for some unknown reason? You can do so much better than him, babe, I keep telling you that."

Sage rarely made the habit of showing up at other bars in the city, especially since she spent so much time at her own that when she was off the last thing she wanted to do was be in a bar. But, Atlas had Maggie for the night and she was left with little to do besides check out the another bar owner’s place of business, completely innocently of course. “So, how long had you been working here?” The blonde asked the bartender after her second drink was delivered. Despite not intending to scope out the downtown business that wasn’t so far away from her own, she couldn’t help but notice how well the woman behind the bar handled the drinks and the crowd on a busy Saturday night. “How do you like working here? I hope the owner realizes what she’s got with you.”

Her dress left a flowing trailed behind her as she weaved through the crowd in search of one of the only reasons why she decided to drag herself out of Aslihan’s very comfy guest house that night — the open bar. Even at the risk of running into her brother, who she had been successfully ignoring since the night their party was broken up, and his horrid blonde of an other half. Somehow, she was convinced that the amount of alcohol she could consume at the event would more than make up for stepping into that risk and so she approached the bar with confidence, holding the skirt of her dress with her left hand as she leaned against the top of the bar, catching the bartender’s attention and ordering the first drink that popped into her mind, the same drink Nathan Crane had her make at her pop-up interview. As she was waiting for the drink, her eyes caught sight of someone that looked familiar, but took a second to click in her mind. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite bartender,” Molly complimented, glancing at the woman who ended up beside her. “How does it feel being on this side of things?”