Chapter 2
“He’s young enough to be your grandchild.” ~ Rezer
“Thursday,” Lisa said absently, wiping her hands on a towel. Her brow furrowed the moment the word left her mouth.
Rezer caught the change immediately, the flicker of recognition, the faint pinch between her brows. “Something about Thursday?”
She shook her head too quickly, brushing some wisps of hair from her face. “Just a busy day.”
He studied her for a long moment, then said, “Busy is good. I’ll stay out of your way.”
Lisa blinked. “Stay?”
He nodded toward the small sitting nook near the front, a cozy space with two overstuffed chairs and a low table covered in magazines. “I’d like to finish my tea. Seems like a pleasant place to enjoy the atmosphere.”
Her lips parted in protest, but she seemed to think better of it. “Suit yourself,” she muttered, and moved behind the counter.
Rezer took a seat, stretching his long legs beneath the table. He hadn’t planned to stay. But something in the way she had said Thursday, and the way her eyes had widened at whatever knowledge had sparked in her mind had him even more curious. Too bad for her—curiosity in him was rarely harmless.
The hours slipped by, quiet but full. Lisa moved through the shop with easy grace, speaking softly to customers, blending teas, and rearranging jars with a focus that made the smallest task look deliberate.
She talked to herself sometimes, muttering things like, “That’s the last of the chamomile,” or, “Of course the labels are crooked again,” with that same dry humor that had already become familiar.
Every so often, the phone would ring. He caught fragments of her end of the conversation—mostly polite, occasionally exasperated.
“Yes, Mrs. Darnell, the dream balm will be ready tomorrow.”
Pause.
“No, I don’t think it’s haunted, but if it starts whispering to you, maybe don’t use it.”
Her voice always softened when she laughed, a warm, human sound that slipped past his guard more easily than he liked.
By late afternoon, the sunlight had thinned, slanting gold across the front windows.
Lisa had refilled her shelves twice, answered a dozen calls, and was now restocking the crystal display by the door.
But it wasn’t the crystals she kept looking at.
Her gaze flicked to the entrance every few minutes, the smallest crease between her brows each time the bell didn’t chime.
Rezer’s jaw tightened. “You’re waiting for someone.”
Lisa startled slightly, then busied herself with a box of sage. “I’m expecting a regular customer.”
He leaned back in the chair, voice low. “Tony?”
Her hands stilled. “How do you—”
“Syndra,” he reminded her of the female’s words, “And you said Thursday as if you remembered something about this day in particular. Something about your face changed.” His voice dropped as he raised a brow at her.
“I pay attention.” He didn’t bother to tell her that he knew who Tony was, though he’d never met the male.
Most dark elves knew who worked for Trik, back when he was the assassin and not the ruling king.
“Of all the men to actually pay attention,” Lisa muttered, then sighed, setting the box down. “He’s just a friend.”
“Human.” It wasn’t a question.
She hesitated. “Yes. I met him at one of Trik’s casinos. He moved here for a slower life—or so he says. He stops in once a week for tea.”
“Tea.” Rezer’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “He worked in a casino? I don’t imagine he looks like the tea-drinking sort.”
Lisa gave him a pointed look. “He’s not, but he insists he is. And I let him keep the illusion because it’s easier than arguing.”
Rezer studied her, keeping his expression unreadable. “You’re kind to indulge him.”
“It’s called manners.”
He nodded slowly. “Still. A man that age chasing a woman, what? Five or six times his years? Unusual, isn’t it?”
Her brows rose. “Six times his years?” Her voice rose as her lips grew tight across her face. “Are you just purposely being obtuse or do you really not know how rude it is to bring up a woman’s age?”
He tilted his head, feeling the faintest spark of humor, or maybe provocation, and he felt alive. It felt good. He didn’t address her question. Just poked the bear again. “Aren’t you, technically, old enough to be his great, great, great grandmother?”
Lisa stared at him, her expression moved from disbelief, maybe some slight amusement, then straight into irritation. “That’s one way to put it. But it’s a jackass way.”
Before he could retort, the bell above the door chimed.
Rezer turned his head toward the entrance, and there a man stood, looking much too comfortable for his liking. No doubt this was the infamous Tony.
He stepped inside, tall, confident, with keen eyes that took in the room. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow, his forearms tanned and strong, and he carried himself with the relaxed swagger of a man who didn’t try too hard because he didn’t have to. Rezer already didn’t like him.
“Evening, Lisa,” Tony said, his grin widening. “Got my tea ready?”
Rezer’s gaze flicked from Tony to Lisa, then back again. “Ah,” he murmured, his tone smooth but edged. “The great, great, great grandchild.”
Lisa could feel Rezer’s smugness, sharp, and entirely too pleased with itself.
“Seriously?” she asked, turning to look at him and forcing a calm she did not feel.
Rezer’s expression was all innocent composure, though the faint quirk of his mouth said otherwise. “Did I say that out loud?”
“You know you said it outloud, you asswipe,” she muttered. It was one of Elora’s insults and probably beneath Lisa to use, but it was either that or she might just throw something at him.
“Everything okay?” Tony asked, stepping fully into the shop.
His grin was easy, as always, handsome, unbothered, and self-assured in a way that most human men weren’t around her.
He carried a small paper bag, probably from the bakery next door, and set it on the counter.
He barely gave Rezer a look, walking straight to the counter.
“Brought you those scones you like.” Rezer didn’t miss the fact that Tony hadn’t bothered to even acknowledge his presence.
Power move, impressive really, but Rezer could still wipe the floor with him.
Lisa’s irritation softened a fraction while her embarrassment rose. Why was it bothering her that Rezer was witnessing this? “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” Tony said, leaning one elbow on the counter. “But I like the way you pretend it makes your day. But it does actually make my day.”
She bit back a smile and shook her head.
“You’re impossible.” Tony really was a nice guy, attractive, easy to talk to, all the things.
But as much as she hated it, she wasn’t attracted to him, and yes, there was an age difference even if she didn’t look older than him.
He might not think about it, but Lisa did because she’d been alive a long time, seen a lot of things, and experienced a lot of things.
She couldn’t just pretend she was a normal human woman.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rezer shift slightly, just enough that it caused Tony to notice him. His posture straightened a little, his easy grin dimming as his eyes cut toward the dark elf sitting comfortably in the reading nook.
“Didn’t realize you had company,” Tony said, his tone polite but edged and his words a complete lie. She recognized this for what it was; a power play.
Lisa turned, catching the way Rezer’s gaze stayed steady, unflinching. “He’s a customer,” she said quickly. “Just enjoying the atmosphere.”
“Ah.” Tony’s eyes narrowed, but he covered it with a grin. “Well, I hope you’re not enjoying it too much.” There was definitely a bite to his words.
Bloody hell, Lisa mentally growled. This was not how she expected her night to start.
Rezer smiled faintly, lifting his cup in a slow, deliberate toast. “Oh, I’ve enjoyed my entire day. Immensely.”
Lisa exhaled through her nose, stepping between them like a referee who already knew if she didn’t interfere there would be a fight. “Tony, I’ll get your tea ready in the back. Give me one second, all right?”
“Sure thing.” He flashed her a grin, then gave Rezer a once-over that was friendly on the surface but seemed to carry the weight of sizing up competition.
Lisa turned sharply and headed for the back room, muttering under her breath, “This is why I don’t date.”
She gathered Tony’s tea blend, taking her time. The quiet gave her a moment to breathe, to think. Rezer had been calm all afternoon, quiet even. But the moment Tony’s name came up, that calm had shifted, turned brittle and tight. Jealousy. It was absurd, but there was no mistaking it.
By the time she returned to the front, the air between the two men had thickened.
Tony stood by the counter, casual but alert, while Rezer remained seated, still, composed, but with that unmistakable air of silent challenge.
He was leaning back, an ankle resting on his knee.
His posture was lazy, as if he was saying, I don’t have to stand up because I’m that much more dominant than you.
Okay, maybe Lisa needed to lay off the re-runs of Teen Wolf.
“Here you go,” Lisa said, handing Tony his bag of tea. “And please, whatever dynamic is going on,” she motioned between the two, “don’t start anything. Either of you.”
Tony chuckled. “Who, me? I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
Rezer’s tone was smooth, but his eyes gleamed as he glanced at her, then back to Tony. “I’m both.”
Lisa’s hand flew to her forehead. “Oh, for the love of—”
Tony chuckled. “You always keep things interesting around here.”
“Only on Thursdays,” she said, glaring between them.
“Now both of you, out—or at least one of you.” Why had she said that?
And why had she hoped it would be the non-dark elf who left?
Ugh, she felt like she was a teenager again, which was weird as hell since she hadn’t been a teenager in nearly a couple centuries.