Add the fact that the residents could be slow to embrace change, and it had been an uphill battle from the start. The flow of customers had started as a drip, then a trickle, but after almost a year, they had managed to build a steady group of regulars.
“Something like that,” Sammy muttered. “Where is everyone?”
“Tamara went into Slidell,” he answered, referring to the next town over. “We’re out of creamer and oat milk.” Sliding his cell phone into the front pocket of his jeans, he finally looked up to meet his gaze. “I sent everyone else home early after things calmed down.”
Sammy cocked his head with a frown. “Calmed down?”
“Yeah, some fancy party up at the hotel.” Braeden motioned toward the mostly empty display cases on either side of the register. “Dessert breads are in the oven. Cookies and cupcakes are cooling on racks. They cleaned us out of the blood tarts, though.”
And they wouldn’t receive another delivery of blood bags until the following morning.
“I’ll let the hotel know they won’t be included with their delivery order tomorrow.”
“Already did,” Braeden assured him.
Sammy bobbed his head as he exhaled slowly. There wasn’t anything they could do, but he still felt awful about it. He hated letting people down, especially someone like Uriah Maddock.
While he acknowledged his own hard work and dedication in making the place a success, he also knew he couldn’t have done it without the backing of the hotel owner.
The dragon shifter had given him a chance when others likely would have turned him away. Allowing him to lease the location had been an indirect endorsement. Then Uriah had taken it a step further.
Despite operating several restaurants and a cafe of his own at Blackhaven Bayou, he trusted Cherry on Top to provide an assortment of breakfast pastries for hotel guests. Which had ultimately resulted in more traffic, as well as more delivery orders from other businesses.
And just as importantly, Uriah had kept his secret.
Sammy knew he wouldn’t be able to hide forever, but for now, it felt safer. Most people, including his fellow Otherlings, held a rather negative opinion of changelings, viewing the race as manipulative and deceitful.
Worse, they weren’t entirely wrong to feel that way, even if the deception sometimes happened by accident.
Braeden shuffled a step closer, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Sammy, did you hear me?”
He jerked his head up, blinking to clear the fog from his mind. “Huh?”
“Are you okay?” Braeden studied him with a frown. “No offense, but you look terrible.”
He felt it too. “Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep much. That’s all.”
“What’s wrong?”
Sammy waved him off with a forced smile. He appreciated the concern, but he wouldn’t drag Braeden into his mess.
“Have a lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, pushing his grin even wider.
Undeterred by the brushoff, Braeden pressed him again. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you know how to do a locator spell,” he mumbled—half joke, half sarcasm.
“I don’t.”
Of course he didn’t. He was human without a single ounce of magical blood.
“Tenn might, though,” he continued. “I mean, maybe not with a spell, but he used to be a bounty hunter for the Ministry.”
Sammy stilled, and his spinning thoughts slammed to a halt.