An assortment of small porcelain honey pots filled with different kinds of dried leaves and spices sat on an elaborate glass tray. Nicole all but created a ritual for trying the different combinations listed on the fancy recipe index cards—pausing to smell each ingredient before carefully packing it in the infuser, counting the seconds turning into minutes while it steeped, and finally taking a conservative sip to concentrate on identifying both the obvious and unfamiliar flavors. Then she experimented by adding milk to some, sugar to others, dollops of honey here, cinnamon cream there, and even a syrupy fruit jam once to see how well the flavors would mix.

Harlow shot a disgusted look at her for that last one.

Nicole shrugged and drained the cup. An unexpected pang of sadness rushed through her as she realized she didn’t know what she liked because it’d been so long since she’d had a choice that went beyond buying the same cheap groceries week after week. She wanted to try everything, really give her palate a chance to enjoy the experience, no matter how strange it looked. Odds were good she’d never get another chance like this again.

Besides, it would all most likely go to waste anyway. There was way too much food and drink for seven people on the table. Might as well get creative with her choices.

Stella’s irrepressible cackle echoed through the open area. Nicole watched as she strutted from the playing field back to the table. Her supermodel walk needed work—way too much hip, and it sort of looked like she didn’t know what to do with her arms—but she got full marks for confidence.

“Nicole,” Stella said as she sat. “I’m assuming you missed me. Feel free to lie to me if you didn’t.”

“I did. No lying required.”

Jewel, who had lagged a few steps behind, asked, “Who’s next?”

Harlow shot to her feet before anyone could beat her to it, and they walked off together.

“Where did you and Jewel go?” Nicole asked.

“Just for a little stroll down to the vineyard,” Stella said, plucking a bright pink macaron from the spread. “I’m not the athletic type, so I opted out of croquet. Are you jealous?”

“No.”

Stella huffed. “I said you’re allowed to lie to me.”

“You’re truly something else. You know that, right?”

“I’ve been called worse.” She sat back in her seat, slightly turning away. Knees pulled up to her chest, she began using her tablet. “I’ll take a ‘something else’ from you any day.”