Sterling covered his face with his hand before peeking through his fingers at the pastry-covered wall. “Seriously, it’s okay.”
“I’m just going to order for you if you don’t say something, and you might not like what I order,” I said, shooting an apologetic look at the baker, who seemed entertained by our argument, thankfully. Sterling didn’t speak, so I said, “He wants a large coffee with honey and topped with vanilla sweet cream, and he also wants one of those,” I said, pointing at the iced cinnamon bun.
“Sure,” the baker said with a smile. “Anything for you?”
“A raspberry tart and chamomile tea, please,” I said.
“I thought you liked pumpkin muffins,” Sterling said.
I shot him a confused look. “How did you know that?”
“It’s my job to know things,” he said with a wink.
I couldn’t tamp down my smile as I looked at the baker again. “That’s it. Thank you.”
“You got it!” She eyed me for a moment, and then she said, “Are you Boris’s grandson?”
“I am!” I said with a grin. “Cassian Fibbersnap, nice to meet you.”
“I remember you coming in here when you were just a little thing,” she said, laughing. “My name’s Hope, but you probably don’t remember me.”
“Sorry, no,” I said with an insecure chuckle. We both knew it was unreasonable for me to remember her, but I felt bad anyway.
“That’s all right. I’m so sorry about your grandfather. The world needs more men like him. It’s a good thing we’ve got you,” Hope said.
“Thank you. I miss him every day,” I said.
“I can imagine. I saw your cousin Jasmine here not long ago. It was nice to see her again too,” Hope said.
“Yeah, we take turns purchasing supplies in town. Sorry I haven’t been in here yet. Business has been rough lately,” I said. “It’s picking up, though.”
“Glad to hear it. It’s on the house today, Cassian,” she said, turning around to prepare the order before I could argue. “Sit down! I’ll bring it out to you.”
I stammered for a moment before saying, “Thank you very much, Hope.”
Sterling and I walked the length of the bakery to find a secluded pocket of tables around the back wall beside the fireplace. We took a small two-person table against the wall and settled in.
“Everyone who knew your grandfather seems to really like you, Cassian. You must take after him a lot,” Sterling said.
Sterling knew how to make me smile against my will. It wasn’t fair. “Thanks. I spent a lot of time with my grandfather growing up, because I felt safest with him. His inn was my home away from home. It was the only inn that didn’t feel like a business, and as a kid I felt I could stay there forever.” I sighed. “And now I have to.”
“You don’t want to run the inn?” he asked.
I fought with the answer, because it hurt to say aloud. “No. I don’t.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I just want… stability. I want a family that I see regularly, and I want to help people. I don’t like the constant change that comes with running an inn. I don’t like taking money from people so they can sleep. I don’t like making friends in an evening and then never seeing them again.”
Sterling narrowed his gray eyes at me and rubbed his chin. “You help people every day, and your crew has been there since you were a child. And it seems like a lot of your guests are regulars,” Sterling said.
I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”
“I guess not. I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you going to sell the inn?”
My head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! I mean… I might have to if I can’t uncurse it, but I don’t want to. My grandfather loved that inn, and he loved his employees. He tried to leave Olive 5,000 gold in his will, but when it came time to pay her, I was running everything so poorly that I couldn’t deliver. I still owe her that money.” I held my head in my hands, and when I looked up, his eyebrows were drawn and he was scanning the table as if there was text written on it. Oh no. “Sterling?—”
“Would she receive that money from the sale of the inn?” he asked.
