He grunted and sat down at the table.

After a slow breath, he picked up the coffee.

The first sip made him gag, but he forced it down out of politeness.

“What kind of beans did you use? This tastes awful,” he said, looking displeased.

Agnese stammered, “Same… same ones Mrs. Hale always used. I followed her method exactly.”

With coffee, temperature and brewing methods mattered.

With coffee, temperature and brewing methods mattered. People adjusted them based on the beans they used.

He frowned and took another sip. Still awful.

Spitting it back into the cup, he slammed it down.

After a moment, he swallowed his anger, set down his fork, grabbed his jacket, and left without a word.

His face was sullen.

Agnese, pale and rattled, quickly called Iris.

Iris picked up and said only two sentences before ending the call.

“Agnese, I’m not Heriberto’s maid. Don’t call me about this again.”

dressed, and stepped out. Nathaniel had already arranged for a housekeeper, who had made a big

thinking how

her hard enough to

Nathaniel showed up. He had a few bites and gave a

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in her third year of college

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22:29

Chapter 8

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Iris made a blend of a dozen herbs and turned it into a face

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