Stefano pauses with his little cup in hand.
Then he inclines his head.
“Fine. I respect its service.”
“Thank you.”
“But I question its flavor.”
“Still rude.”
He grins and slides a small cup toward me.
“Try.”
I eye it suspiciously. “Why is it so tiny?”
“Because it does not need to compensate.”
I point at him. “That joke was too good, and I hate that for both of us.”
His smile widens.
Sighing, I set my coffee down and pick up the tiny cup.
It smells strong and expensive.
I take a cautious sip. Then freeze.
Stefano watches me with the smug confidence of a man who already knows he won.
“Well?” he asks.
I slowly lower the cup.
“I hate you.”
His grin turns triumphant.
“It’s good, yes?”
“No.”
“Mia.”
“It’s very good,” I admit. “But I’m not emotionally ready to abandon my watered-down bean juice.”
“No one is asking you to abandon it.”
“You’re definitely asking me to abandon it.”
“I’m asking you to improve your life.”
Before I can answer, Livy appears in the doorway with her hair sticking up in every direction and Sabrina right behind her, rubbing one eye.
“Mama,” Livy mumbles, “why are you drinking doll coffee?”
Stefano places a hand over his heart.
