Page 13 of Stealing the Star Stone
“Sure,” he said, smothering a grimace.
She bounced inside, her ponytail swaying behind her.
When he followed, pushing through a beaded curtain, the incense faded and the rich aroma of licorice greeted him.He slid into a booth, meeting her gaze across the narrow table.
“Wha’ ya want?”an old woman asked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“A little of everything,” Nova said, “especially the Jasmine-infusion.Oh, and the granadilla.”
The old woman’s scowl merged into a toothless smile.“Milk?”
“Of course not,” Nova said with a grin.“Are you testing me?”
“I may be.”The woman chuckled, but when she focused on Eli, she glowered.“You donna look like the tea-drinkin’ type.”
“I’m not, but I’m willing to be taught.”He summoned his famous smirk.“Rumors have it, a tea goddess is here…” He glanced around the cluttered shop then leaned in as if to whisper a secret.“Only she can convert me to a true tea drinker.”
He was laying it on thick, but he wanted the best experience without having a space version of his aunt glaring at him in disappointment.
“Ne’r shall it be said that I, Arell, turned away a student.”She waddled off, humming too loudly.
“She didn’t need to be charmed,” Nova said.
He laughed.“Yes, she did if I didn’t want her spit-cleaning my cup.”
“Fair enough.”She waved her fingers at the illuminated menu above the crockery-littered counter.“Want to try something else?”
“To be honest,” he said in a hushed voice, “I don’t understand the love of boiled leaves in water.”
“Too bitter?”she asked, her hands in her lap.There was no derision in her tone, just curiosity.For once, she was being…polite.
“Too hot.”He chuckled.“Grew up—”
“In a scorching climate.I know,” she said and beamed at the old lady, who lowered a heavy looking tray onto their table.
He stared over the steaming pots, fascinated by Nova.She’d surprised him again.He supposed his life was an open book.
Arell stepped back, her gaze fixed on them.When he reached for a pot, Nova smacked his hand.His knuckles stung, but he settled in his seat, content to wait.
Arell cackled, grabbed his hand, and massaged it.“That’s righ’.Gotta wait f’it to stew.”She patted him then waddled off.
“That’s it?”he whispered.“No mini-lecture on the origins of tea, what flavors to expect like cinnamon or blackberry—”
Nova snorted.“This isn’t a wine tasting.”She froze then hummed.“Now that’s a good idea.Tarnis has to have vineyards, right?”She shook her head, her eyes wide.“I never researched that possibility.”
“Why would you?”he asked.
“Oh, just good to have a general knowledge of our galaxy.”
He scowled.“You need to lie better.”
She huffed and poured the tea.“This one’s granadilla.”She pushed the cup and saucer toward him then cradled her cup for a deep inhale.
He did the same, admitting he liked the earthy fruity fragrance.A tentative sip coated his mouth with flavors he hadn’t anticipated.The bitterness was there, but the heat of the tea, the subtle granadilla…
“And?”she asked.
“It’s good.”And he meant it.Enthusiasm to try the next one gripped him, but when she savored another sip, he realized he couldn’t down his tea to pour from the other pot.
