Page 3 of Welcome to Ero-TEA-Ca: We’re Open!

Cassandra

“ U nacceptable,” Cassandra hissed to herself as she peered through the blinds. “I won’t stand for it,” she growled as she watched the moving van’s rear door open. “They’ll ruin us all.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Kendal scoffed from behind. “You’re just sour because Old Man Beedle didn’t sell you the shop.”

Kendal was wrong…entirely wrong. Cassandra was neither sour nor harbouring ill feeling towards the old man. Her anger was justified.

“It’s a porn tea shop, Kendal. This has nothing to do with the building. Our street is full of respectable businesses and they’re going to ruin it!”

Another scoff. “Give it up, Cass. I know you better than that.”

Dammit. Kendal did know her better than anyone. After all, they’d been married for ten years, divorced for seven, but were still best friends.

“You can’t tell me you think this is a good thing, can you?” Cass asked, jabbing her finger towards the van. There were several people milling around, beginning to unload boxes.

“I think it’s awesome.”

“You would,” Cass mumbled.

She felt Kendal’s eye roll. “You don’t have to like it or agree, Cass. It’s done. The shop will open, and you’ll have new neighbours. What are you gonna do? Just be a grump for the rest of your life?”

“Yes!” Cass declared. “I have everything to be grumpy about. I’ll lose customers. Mark my words. They’ll either bugger off to the porn tea store or stop coming around because they feel uncomfortable. I’m tellin’ ya, Ken, this isn’t going to end well.”

Kendal stepped up to Cassandra’s side and peeped through the tiny slit of the blind. “Have you even met them yet?”

“Nope. And I have no intention of doing so, for as long as humanly possible.”

Cassandra and Kendal couldn’t have been more different—in opinion or appearance.

That they’d once been married—and were still best friends—amazed most people.

Cass was tall, pale, and freckled, with long, straight jet-black hair and a no-nonsense edge to everything she did.

Kendal was shorter and curvier, with rich brown skin and deep-set eyes.

She alternated between a natural crown of picked-out curls or waist-length braids, but always carried a kind of unshakeable calm that made her feel like the safest person in any room.

Kendal sighed and shook her head. “Cass, just give them a chance. If you really lose customers, you can take it up with the Shop Owners’ Guild at the end of the quarter. But being outright arse-y won’t win you any favours. You’re already on thin ice with Mandeep.”

“He left litter all over the place.”

“He placed leaflets on his own tables. Nowhere near the café, Cass. Stop antagonising everyone. You can’t force people to work the way you want them to, sweetie.”

Cass furrowed her eyebrows. “I just want the high street to succeed. We need to hold ourselves to a higher standard.”

“And I’m sure the other shop owners agree, but it’s not for you to police.”

Cass waved her hand, dismissing the conversation. “We’re not here to talk about that. We were talking about them ,” she shot, pointing to a very upbeat Asian woman and her now absent cohort skipping around the truck.

“Look, if you can’t play nice, just stay out of the way. Leave them to their shop and you concentrate on yours, okay?”

Silence.

“Cassandra. Okay?”

Dropping the blind, Cass huffed one last time before turning to face Kendal. “Fine. Now, can we get this place ready for opening?”

Kendal chuckled. “You say it like I’m the one who’s stood here wasting time.”

Cassandra’s mood was in the toilet, and her ex-wife’s comments weren’t helping. Couldn’t Cass indulge her own grouchiness for once? After all, she now had to work next door to a raunchy tea shop, for crying out loud.

“I wasn’t wasting time,” she mumbled to herself as she set about turning chairs over. The floor was dry after an early morning wash. Cass liked the café to be sparkling clean every morning, even if it meant getting up at the butt crack of dawn. Her reputation was worth it.

The Shop Owners’ Guild might find her ornery, but her customers didn’t—or at least they didn’t complain about her naturally spicy character.

Probably because ninety percent of people who came to The Oxford Beanery were just as irritable as Cass before their first cup of coffee and didn’t pay her any attention, choosing instead to focus on mainlining caffeine to face the day.

With one last sweeping look, Cass nodded her satisfaction at the café’s readiness and went to the door. Opening the blinds was the last job on her list before flipping the Closed sign to Open .

Of course, her eyes went straight to the oversized van still parked outside, its cargo door jutting over Cass’s property.

She gritted her teeth and took a ragged breath.

If they hadn’t shifted the thing by the time the daily rush hit in an hour, Cass wouldn’t have a choice but to confront the new owner, would she?

Scowling one last time for good measure, Cass spun around and marched to the till with purpose.

Kendal already had the coffee machine up and running and was making them both a cup of Peruvian Gold.

It had a kick no other coffee could match, with just the right blend of acidity and smoothness as it sat on the tongue. Delicious.

“Here, neck this before the morning crowd arrives,” Kendal called. She was already throwing back her own espresso-sized cup.

Inhaling the rich aroma, Cass let the black gold engulf all her senses.

This was what she lived for. Coffee was everything.

Her mind flitted to the tea shop again, causing her to scoff.

Coffee outshone tea by miles. Maybe Cass wouldn’t have to put up with the new neighbours for long.

They’d probably crash and burn within the first six months.

Most new businesses did, and for the life of her, Cass just couldn’t see an erotic tea shop lasting long. This was Oxford, for goodness’ sake.

Feeling satisfied with her predictably correct assumption of the tea shop’s inevitable demise, Cass welcomed the first customers.

They were bleary-eyed and mute—just how she liked them.

It stayed quiet until Gordon marched in.

He was the resident busybody and had taken over the mantle of Chief Gossip when his wife, Mary, passed away three years ago.

“It’s happening then,” he stated the second he reached the front of the queue. “We’re really getting a sex tea shop?”

Cass grunted a response. Kendal positioned his usual order in front of him. Gordon was as predictable as he was loose-lipped. He never strayed from a flat white, no matter how many times Cass and Kendal tried to get him to deviate.

“It’s a tea shop,” Kendal replied.

“With sex stuff,” Gordon shot back. “I mean, who comes up with something like that?”

Exactly what Cass would like to know! Probably some new-age hippy with Mum and Dad’s money backing it.

“It’s a new concept, sure,” Kendal added. “I think it’s ingenious. I mean, everyone loves tea. And we could do with a few more open minds around here. We take being British to a new level sometimes. Time to take the sticks out our bums, if you ask me.”

Gordon’s bushy eyebrows rose so much, Cass could almost see his entire eye. “You think it’s a good idea?”

Kendal nodded. “Yes, and I’m looking forward to attending the grand opening.”

Cass almost cricked her neck with the speed she looked at her ex. “You’re going?” Cass had received an invitation through the post two weeks ago and had promptly put it in the recycling bin. “When were you invited?”

“I wasn’t, personally. But as co-owner of the café, I was. I found the invitation in the bin, Cass.”

“It should’ve stayed in the bin. You can’t go on behalf of The Oxford Beanery, Kendal. That sends the message we’re okay with them being here.”

Kendal shook her head. “I am okay with them being here. And I’m going.”

Cass was gobsmacked. “I forbid it,” she declared, far too loudly.

Kendal’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, do you now? And how exactly are you going to stop me, Cassandra ?”

Cass fidgeted with her apron string. She couldn’t forbid Kendal and they both knew it.

“Okay, I can’t forbid you. But I strongly urge you to change your mind.

I don’t want the café linked with that place,” she shot, jabbing her finger towards the west wall.

A pang of disappointment hit her square in the chest. Cass had planned to breach that wall and create an archway into her very own library. Stupid Old Man Beedle .

A hand gripped her shoulder, tugging Cass from a downward spiral. “Beedle never promised to sell you the shop, Cass.”

“He said I’d have first refusal,” Cass growled, unsurprised Kendal had read her thoughts so well.

“You were travelling, sweetie. He did try and get hold of you. You know that.”

“I was in the middle of a rainforest, Kendal. The phone signal wasn’t exactly great. He knew I planned to be back a week later. You’re telling me he couldn’t have waited seven more days? I had plans for that shop—big plans—and he knew it. Beedle wrecked my dreams!”

“You should sue him for emotional distress,” Gordon interjected.

“He’s eighty-three years old,” Kendal scoffed. “And it was his right to sell the shop to whomever he wanted to.”

Cass slapped her hand on the counter. “It doesn’t matter. Gordon’s right. I should sue him.”

“Cassandra Beaufort. If you even think about contacting a lawyer about this, I will sell my shares of the café to your mother!”

Cass recoiled in horror. “That’s low, Ken.”

Kendal narrowed her eyes. “I’m deadly serious.”

They stared each other down for a few moments before Cass backed down. Nothing was worth her mother getting involved in the business. “Fine, I’ll leave Beedle alone.”

“And you,” Kendal interrupted, pointing at Gordon, “stop meddling. Drink your coffee and eat some cake. Nothing more.” Gordon looked suitably chastised. He picked up his coffee and shuffled off to find a seat.