Page 114 of Fresh Old Bounties

“What do you want today?” I asked Hannah, all smiles. “On the house!”

“You’re in a good mood,” she said with a laugh. “Got good news?”

“The absolute best.”

Hannah stayed around for a round of tea and a muffin, and by the time she left, I had two couples occupying the tables.

I used a lull between orders to fire Ian a fast text.

Found proof Grandma was the wrong target. Will tell you later.

OK.

To anyone else, that might’ve seemed dry and unenthusiastic. But it being Ian, the fact that he had bothered to text back a word rather than a thumbs up emoji spoke plenty.

The door opened again, and Dru’s ex-boyfriend walked in, today dressed in casual pants and a blazer, all bright dentistry.

“Good afternoon,” he said, sitting at the counter.

My stomach growled at the reminder of the fact I’d missed lunch time. I grabbed a banana muffin from the display and took a good bite, not caring a bit about the crumbles raining down on my long-sleeved T-shirt.

“What can I make you? Coffee? Daily special?”

His smile didn’t abate at my less-than-welcoming tone. Or the crumbles.

“A coffee, please. No milk. Sugar.”

I filled a mug and set it on a coaster in front of him, along with a bottle of sweetener.

“Thank you.” He prepared the drink and took a small sip. “Delicious.”

“Only the best coffee at the Tea Cauldron.” Arching a brow, I dared him to contradict me.

“Yes, I can see that,” he murmured with some amusement, studying me.

One of the couples stood to pay for their drinks, and I hurried to wipe the muffin remains off my front. After they left, I returned to Preston.

“Why are you here?” I asked. “You know I’m friends with Dru. She deserves the Corner Rose, you do not. I’m not going to?—”

The front door slammed open, sending the bell into a jarring series of stressed tinkles.

“You!” Dru stalked up to Preston. “What are you doing here?”

“Dru,” I whispered. “Clients.”

Dru gave the couple on the second table a glacial smile. “Sorry.”

“Back,” I snapped, pointing at the bead curtain.

Dru grabbed Preston’s arm and dragged him off the stool and into the back.

“Family fight,” I told the couple apologetically. Dru and Preston’s heated voices rose in volume. I turned the voltage of my smile up to eleven. “You know how it is.”

The couple exchanged glances. One muttered, “We better go.” They rose in a hurry and made haste to pay.

I shoved the bead curtain aside. Dru and Preston were in each other’s faces, their expressions twisted in anger, fingers poking each other’s shoulders. Loud, distressed gurgling echoed through the pipes.

Oh, Mother, I hoped they wouldn’t start making out in the hallway.

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