Page 49 of Mother Parker
“Yeah,” he grumbled.
“Wait a minute, are you using ‘fine’ because you don’t know any other words?”
“What words?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, perfect, tasty, divine, heavenly.Ambrosial!”
“Ambrosial?”
“It’s a word,” I said.
“Right,” he said, mocking behind an inkling of a smirk.
“So? Would you say this is ambrosial?” I asked, pointing at the cup in his hand.
“Ambrosial?” I nodded. He shook his head. “No. Definitely notambrosial.”
“Then I need to experiment more,” I said, pursing my lips, and got back to work altering the recipe.
I wasn't going to stop until he was so rocked off his feet that he actually cracked a smile.
I poured double the chocolate powder and twice the corn syrup. Pumped a few extra shots of peanut butter syrup, added a splash of banana extract, shook, and poured into a cup. I finished it off with an extra dash of chocolate shavings and chips and returned to Parker with a fresh straw.
“Here,” I said.
He snatched the cup from my hands and pinched the straw with two fingers, and I watched him like a hawk.
Just before he took a sip, he stopped and looked at me.
“Is that really necessary?” he asked.
“Oh, I’d say it’s vital,” I bit back.
“That’s a bit dramatic,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t say I wasn’t a drama queen. Now drink!”
He took a deep breath, flaring his nostrils, and took a sip of the new blend. His brows furrowed deeper and his eyes slit harder, but even as he swallowed, he didn’t give anything away.
“Yeah. It’s all right,” he said.
My fingers curled into fists and I all but growled. I’d been making Parker teas to try nonstop since he’d started, and he never admitted he liked any. Even the worst bubble tea critic would enjoy one of the mixes I’d made, even if it had no topping.
“Fine,” I snapped at him.
“Now who needs an expanded vocabulary,” he said with an amused grin.
Well, at least that was something. He might not want to admit he liked me—erm, my bubble tea—but at least my efforts entertained him.
“I’m going out,” I said.
“Bye,” he said and turned his back to me, picking up the first box that needed lugging into the storeroom.
I shook my head, grabbed the tray of samples I’d already made, and marched out of my café.
I was able to take him out of my mind for half an hour while I gave tourists and locals alike samples of different teas and shared my knowledge and love of the subject. In fact, I even saw some of the residents making a beeline for Bubble Bubble after having a taste. I needed to do this more often. Different was scary. I knew as much, having grown up on a small island and as the only American-Korean in my school. Maybe like with myself, I needed to give the people of my hometown small doses until they could accept the real thing.
When I got back, there was a line at the counter, and Parker was shaking two shakers simultaneously. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I watched him flex those muscles for a few moments. And sure, a little dribble came out the side of my mouth. That didn’t mean I was swooning.
