Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

Hugo, for his part, didn’t look as perturbed as Wallace felt. If anything, he
was resigned. The customers at the counter scattered as the woman
approached. “Back so soon?” Hugo asked, voice even.
“Hugo,” the woman said in greeting. “I expect you won’t make things
difficult for me, yes?”
Hugo shrugged. “You know you’re always welcome, Ms. Tripplethorne.
Charon’s Crossing is open for all.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Aren’t you lovely, you silly flirt. Open for all, you
say? What could you possibly mean by that?”
“You know what I mean.”
She leaned forward. Wallace was reminded of a nature documentary he’d
seen once about the mating habits of birds of paradise, their plumage on full
display. She was obviously aware of her more … substantial features. “I do.
And you know what I mean, sweet man. Don’t think you have me fooled. The
things I have seen across the world would be enough to strike fear into the
very heart of you.” She traced her finger on the back of Hugo’s hand on the
counter.
“I have no doubt,” Hugo said. “So long as you don’t bother my other
customers, and stay out of—”
“Oh hell no,” a voice growled. The doors behind the counter swung open,
smacking against the wall and rattling the jars filled with tea as Mei stalked
out of the kitchen, a small towel in her hands.
“—Mei’s way, we’ll be fine,” Hugo finished.
“Mei,” the woman said with no small amount of scorn.
“Desdemona,” Mei snarled.
“Still back in the kitchen, I see. Good for you.”
Hugo managed to hold Mei back before she launched herself over the
counter.
The woman—Desdemona Tripplethorne, a mouthful if there ever was one
—remained unaffected. She slapped her gloves against her hand as she
looked upon Mei dismissively. “You should work on those anger issues,
petal. They’re unbecoming of a lady, even one such as yourself. Hugo, I’ll
take my tea at my usual table. Make it quick. The spirits are restless here
today, and I won’t miss my opportunity.”
Mei wasn’t having it. “You can take the tea and shove it up your—” But
whatever threat she wanted to make was left to the imagination as Hugo