“Hello, Kathleen,” he says when he reaches me. When he sees my confusion, his expression warms ever so slightly. “We’ve met, but I doubt you remember. You were young.”
I nod, pasting a smile on my face. “I’m afraid I don’t, but I’m happy to meet you now. Welcome to my shop.” As an afterthought, I add, “What can I make for you?”
“Something green and mild. Japanese, I think.” Then he adds, “I’d like you to choose.”
Feeling like I’ve been handed a pop quiz, I turn toward the tea behind the counter.
I expect Rowan to assist, but he must decide I’m ready to face this trial alone because he merely greets the man.
“Hello, Rowan,” Mr. Eastwilden responds somewhat stiffly. “It’s been a while.”
“Yes, sir, it has.”
Mr. Eastwilden greets Anna with a nod. Then, coolly, he asks her, “How is your mother?”
To Anna’s credit, she doesn’t flinch. “She’s fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Did you receive my suggestion letter? I left it in the box well over a week ago.”
“We did, yes. I spoke to Gideon about the Saturday night fireworks, but the tourists do enjoy them…”
“They’re disruptive. I’ve had many complaints.”
She nods, exceedingly patient. “Why don’t I have Gideon call you directly, and then you can discuss the matter with him?”
“That would be fine.” He turns back to me. “Have you chosen a tea?”
I set a tin on the counter. “This is kukicha, a unique green tea with a mild, umami flavor.”
His smile grows, but it’s not particularly friendly. “My first visit here, and you offer me twig tea?”
My heart stutters. While kukichaismade from tea plant stems and twigs, they’regoodtwigs.
Sensing that argument won’t get me far with the man, I say, “Though technically it’s a byproduct of more expensive teas, our kukicha is high quality and sweet. I would be happy to offer you a cup on the house. If it’s not to your liking, you are welcome to sample something else.”
“From the sounds of things, you’ve been giving away a lot of tea since you’ve inherited the shop.”
Oh good. Now he’s going to critique my business plan.
I do my best to keep my smile pasted on my face. “It’s a gesture of goodwill to my new neighbors, and I hardly think a cup of tea per patron will break me.”
“Your roof is damaged. Are you aware?”
Rowan shifts closer, deciding to come to my rescue. “Maknihl gave us an estimate for a re-roof and has temporarily patched it as best he can.”
Ignoring Rowan, the man focuses on me. “I’ve heard your aunt gave you a monthly allowance. I imagine the repairs will cost quite a bit more than she allotted.”
Panic does that fun thing where it claws at my chest. “As long as business continues to thrive, I’ll be able to pay for the repairs soon.”
He slides onto a stool and folds his hands on the table. His cane vanishes, there one moment, gone the next.
It’s disconcerting to see him blatantly use magic even though there are humans in the shop. I’m sure they didn’t notice. But still.
He settles in like he’s ready to do business. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much is your aunt’s estate worth?”
“Mr. Eastwilden,” Rowan begins, already shaking his head. “That’s a personal?—”
“I’ll double it,” the man interrupts.
