Generated Story Becomes a story

The smell of red wine lingered around the dark halls of Shafling Manor. Next to the fire, stood my boss. To be specific, bosses. But there was only one head of the household in everyone's mind. She was a dark, pointed woman with slick hair and rosy cheeks. Her sharp features and tall statue were alluminated against the fire. Maggie Stafling. Her husband, was a stout man with red curls and freckles everywhere but his face. His contribution to the marriage was unknown. The only thing that made me remotely realize he was a resident of Stafling Manor was that his name was on the mail box. Ross Milner of Stafling Manor. I returned to the servant  quarters and sighed at my long day. An old aqquaintance had popped back into my life at the supermarket, leaving me stunned in the bread aisle. 

He reminded me of a summers day, of our summer days. Four summer romances, intoxicating fights, and everything in-between. Winters were the same. One swift nod, and he was gone. Once again. 

The chef had barked at me to grab ingredients for tonights lasagna. I was off schedule and not so well liked among the servants. I was dazed, in my own world. Jacob, the Butler had grown tired of me. "Ian! Are you listening? Get a hint! You have to remove the Thanksgiving decorations and clear for lunch!" A string of curses followed under his breath. And so I left for the supermarket. 
Coming back from the market, I was distracted, hurt. And apparently I was speeding too. I was pulled over and the cop gave me a ticket, one not proportional to my salary. Just for speeding? I didn’t want to think about my old fiancé either. I returned home with the noodles and walked lazily to my room.