Proper Tea

He had suggested that we go out for tea, and tea was always good with me.

“Have you been here before,” Carter asked. He was good at small talk, a trait that I had noticed in the past few weeks.

“Um, yep. I actually live a couple blocks away, so I come here quite often,” I said.

“That’s great.” We sat in silence for another moment or two. The waitress came a moment later and broke the silence as she set down the teapot and cups and gave me a nod.

“Anything else I can get you?” She asked.

“Actually, could I get a cup of water with ice? A lot of ice?” Carter said.

“No problem,” Amy said, and was starting to turn away when Carter refined his request.

“Actually,” he said actually far too often, and it was starting to wear on me. At that moment I was starting to feel there may not be another date. “Could I get just a cup of ice?” Amy raised an eyebrow and gave me a quick glance. With a shrug of her shoulders she turned.

“So, Molls – do you care if I call you Molls –”

“Actually, yeah, I do,” I winced; now I had incorporated ‘actually’ into my vocabulary. This wasn’t going to work.

“Are you one of those girls who don’t care for nicknames? You just want to be professional?”

“Mollie isn’t exactly ‘professional,’” I said. Carter reached over and poured some tea into his cup, and then mine.

“Are you a tea person or a coffee person?” Carter asked. I thought for a moment. This was one of his better small talk questions.

“It depends,” I started, but saw Amy come out from behind the counter, cup of ice in hand.

“Here,” she said to Carter, setting down the cup and walking away before he could ask for anything more.

“Depends how?” He said, but I tuned him out. I stared slack jawed as Carter Talbot plopped four ice cubes into his tea cup.

This definitely wasn’t going to work out .

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