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1
The spice of cinnamon, cardamom, and black tea fill the air as I open the large drum in the storeroom and shovel loose tea leaves into the smaller, customer-friendly jars we keep on display up front. With fall setting in, chai lattes are back on the rise, and I make a note to order another barrel. At the rate we’re selling this blend, we’ll be out before the apple harvest blend kicks in.
After five years of running my boutique tea shop in the heart of Rockhaven’s historic district, we’ve finally gotten out of the red financially. Through hard work and creative advertising, we’ve built a solid, passionate customer base, stabilized the menu, and even opened an online shop to ship our teas around the world.
For the first time in my life, I feel like my dream can be a reality. With the shop’s current income, I’ll be able to pay back the loan I took out from my family in another five years, seven if I hire some much-needed assistance, and then this store will truly be mine.
The quiet of the backroom gives way to the buzz of conversation as I return to the front of the shop and slide the jar of tea onto the cherry oak shelf alongside the other black teas.
“Warren, we’ll need more snicker-doodle cookies soon,” Mia calls from the brewing station. “Better make some apricot crisps, too.”
“Got it!” Shifting the jar on the left to even out the spacing, I pop into the small kitchen and load a tray with cookies from the freezer.
To cut down on cost, I make them at home and bring them into the shop, along with the other pastries and desserts we sell. Eventually, I’d like to outsource this part of the business, but it’s not in the budget. Yet.
I set the timer on my phone and shove it into my back pocket so I’ll feel the buzz, then return to the front just as the bell above the door jingles a merry welcome.
Automatically, I turn a smile on our new customer that turns brittle and forced when I recognize the tall man who takes a seat at a two-person table near the window.
The cool, fall sunlight perfectly highlights his strong jawline and the russet hues in his auburn hair. Roman Markham. Alpha asshole and my high school nemesis. We’d been in every class together at the prestigious private school our wealthy parents shipped us off to and been in competition with each other since day one. He always scored a few points better on tests, won first place in every sport, and ruthlessly stole every boyfriend I had only to dump them a week later.
I thought I escaped him when we attended different universities, but the day after we officially opened the tea shop, he showed up with his critical gaze, pointed out the places we needed to improve to reach a client base willing to pay ten dollars for ‘weeds in water’, and swept out. He returned a month later, pleased to see we made the changes he suggested—changes that had already been on my list after our soft opening—and has come here every day since, when he’s not out of town.
I would ban him if he didn’t bring his rich friends with him sometimes, friends who return to buy our custom tea blends and leave the store carrying bags with our logo on them, promoting us to their other rich friends.
If not for Roman’s patronage, we might still be in the red, and it bothers me to no end that I’ll never know how much of my current success can be laid at the feet of his polished loafers.
Mia hustles up to me, a cup of tea in one hand and a plate with two almond biscotti in the other. Pink flushes her cheeks as she glances at Roman. “Can you take his service today? My Heat is coming in a couple days and…”
I drag in a deep breath and force down the disappointment when I can’t smell an increase in her pheromones. As an Alpha, I should be able to sense an Omega’s Heat, even a few days out, but all I smell is tea and the baking snicker-doodle cookies.
My brows pinch with concern as I take the tea and cookies from her. “Do you need to go home early? I can cover your shift.”
“No, I have my suppressants, so as long as I stay behind the counter, I should be fine.” She gives me an impish smile. “You can’t use me as an excuse to duck out of your family dinner tonight.”
I widen my eyes at her in mock affront. “I would never.”
“As soon as Steve gets here, you’re gone, mister.” Gently, she pushes me toward the end of the counter. “And don’t get caught up chatting and forget you’re baking cookies.”
A flush creeps up my cheeks. That only happened once, and only because Roman was being particularly nitpicky that day. It’s not like I go out of my way to talk to him.
With a deep breath, I straighten my spine and head for Roman’s table, my best customer service smile in place.
Three steps away from him, Roman’s cool blue eyes lift from the tablet in his hand and meet mine unerringly, as if he knew I would be the one to come to his table.
My gut tightens uncomfortably, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking away first. This is my business, a shop I built from the ground up, the one place in life where I have full control, and I won’t let him intimidate me here.
Smile still in place, I set his tea and cookies on the table in front of him. “If you’d like a refill, just let me know, and I’ll bring it out.”
He pulls the tea closer with one long, elegant finger. “Earl Grey with honey?”
I can smell the sweet, citrus bergamot from where I stand. It mingles perfectly with the clean scent of his expensive cologne. “Yes, your usual. Did you want something new?”
“No, this is perfect.” He lifts the cup to his lips and breathes in the steam. “Your shop has the best in town.”
“The best ‘weeds in water’ in town,” I say, unable to keep the snap from my voice.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Indeed.”
