Page 69 of Magical Melee
The bell above the door chimed as I stepped intoStonewick Teas and Sundries.The warmth of the shop enveloped me like a comforting embrace. The smell of spiced chai and lavender wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly baked scones. It was cozy, magical, and, if I were honest, a little overwhelming.
This could be my new life.
Stella was already behind the counter. Her signature sparkle radiated from her waiflike body. Today, she wore a shimmering purple blouse that seemed to catch the light every time she moved. Her chunky jewelry jingled as she poured tea into delicate porcelain cups. Her movements were smooth and precise.
“Well, don’t you look fabulous!” she exclaimed. Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of me. “Maeve, darling, you’ve truly embraced the spirit of this town.”
I glanced down at my outfit—a red velvet top and a flowing black skirt.
“Figured I’d try to fit in,” I said with a grin. “Didn’t want the customers thinking I was too normal.”
“Have I ever told you their names?”
“Whose?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Non-believers,” she whispered.
“No. It hasn’t come up yet.”
“We call them the mels.”
“The mels?” My brows arched. “Why that name?”
“Non-magical folk are really… mellow. Even when they think they’re getting all riled up, they’re just…not.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “So mels just fits.”
“I guess compared to goblins and color-changing tea, we could feel a little mellow.”
Her brows arched. “You’re not mellow. I heard about what you did to your husband the night you found out he had a mistress.”
“Several,” I corrected as my eyes narrowed on Stella. “How did you know about that? I haven’t even told Skye.”
I couldn’t help but smirk as the memory floated to the surface—a moment of petty genius in the wake of my absolute heartbreak. When I’d discovered my husband’s little extracurricular activities, I didn’t yell or smash his favorite possessions. Although, that had been equally tempting.
Instead, I’d added several tablespoons of cayenne to his protein powder. Watching him dart from the living room to the kitchen sink to slap his tongue with water mid-peloton ride had been oddly therapeutic. Sure, I wasn’t proud of stooping to such a level, but I had to do something with all my pent-up energy, and it was better than acting on my daydream of castor oil.
Right?
Stella laughed and handed me an apron embroidered with tiny stars and moons. “Trust me. No one’s going to mistake you for normal.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I’d say so.” She winked at me. “Now, ready for your first day?”
I tied the apron around my waist and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The afternoon rush hit like a tidal wave. Customers streamed in, their voices blending into a cacophony of chatter as their tea orders rattled off into the air. Their fingers eagerly touched all the witchy trinkets while browsing the shelves lined with jars of herbs and magical-looking odds and ends.
I quickly learned that Stella’s regulars were as colorful as her wardrobe.
Thankfully, my only job was to run the cash register.
“Do you have anything for… stress?” a frazzled woman in her mid-fifties asked. Her eyes darted around nervously.
“Try our chamomile-lavender blend,” Stella suggested, handing her a sample tin. “Guaranteed to calm your nerves or your money back.”
“Do you really give refunds?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Not a chance,” Stella replied with a cheeky smile. “Because it’s that good.”
