Page 38 of Sweet Christmas Comeback
Jade read the article, her stomach sinking with recognition. Constance Glick had filed complaints with the town council about Sugar Pine Sweets’ signage, about its operating hours, about whether the building met proper standards for a commercial kitchen. The language was nearly identical to the violations Cecily had been citing.
“This has been going on for almost a hundred years,” she said quietly. “A grudge about fruitcake that’s been passed down through three generations of Glick women.”
Their sandwiches arrived. Jade stared at hers without seeing it, her mind racing through the implications.
“It doesn’t actually help, does it?” she said finally. “Knowing this.”
Felicity’s expression shifted from excitement to sympathy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, the electrical problems are real. The building violations are real. Even if Cecily’s motivations are personal, the issues she’s identified aren’t made up.” Jade picked up her coffee, wrapping both hands around the warm mug. “Another inspector might have been more lenient. Might have given us more time, worked with us, suggested solutions instead of just citing violations. But knowing that Cecily has a family grudge doesn’t change the fact that our wiring is from 1962 and our roof leaks.”
“But it proves she’s targeting you unfairly?—”
“Does it? Or does it just explain why she’s being so thorough?” Jade took a sip of coffee, the bitterness matching her mood. “If I go to the town council on Monday and say, ‘Cecily Glick is only doing this because her great-grandmother lost a baking contest in 1928,’ what happens? They’ll say the violations are still valid. They’ll say personal motivation doesn’t matter when public safety is at stake.”
Felicity was quiet for a moment, petting the tabby in her lap. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I got so excited about finding the connection that I didn’t think about whether it actually helps your case.”
“It helps me understand,” Jade said. “And I guess that’s something. At least now I know I’m not crazy. She really is out to get me personally. It’s not just about building codes or historicalpreservation or any of the official reasons she gives. It’s about a nearly century-old grudge over baked goods.”
“Which is completely insane.”
“Which is completely insane,” Jade agreed. “But insane doesn’t mean ineffective. She’s still going to shut us down on Monday unless we have twelve thousand dollars and a team of contractors ready to start work immediately.”
“So what are you saying?”
Jade took a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly while she tried to organize her thoughts. The revelation about the fruitcake feud had given her context but not comfort. If anything, it made the situation feel more hopeless—how do you fight something that’s been entrenched for nearly a century? How do you win against someone who doesn’t just want to enforce regulations but wants to punish you for sins you didn’t commit?
“I’m saying I understand now why Cecily’s going for the jugular,” Jade said finally. “Another inspector might have worked with us. Might have said, ‘Here’s a timeline, here are some local contractors who can work within your budget, here’s how we can phase the repairs.’ But Cecily doesn’t want solutions. She wants us shut down. She wants the Bennett bakery to fail so her great-grandmother can finally win, even posthumously.”
“That’s twisted.”
“That’s what we’re dealing with.” Jade pushed her plate away, appetite gone. “And knowing it doesn’t change the fact that I’m probably going to lose.”
The café’s warmth felt oppressive suddenly. Jade watched the cats move between tables, unburdened by generational feuds or impossible repair bills. What would it be like to be that free? To exist in the moment without the weight of nearly a century of family history pressing down on your shoulders?
“Jade,” Felicity said carefully, “what are you going to do?”
“Tomorrow? I’m going to make the festival amazing. I’m going to sell hot cocoa and cookies and show this town what Sugar Pine Sweets can offer.” Jade met her friend’s eyes. “Monday? I’m going to show up at that town council meeting and face whatever happens. Maybe they’ll give us more time. Maybe they won’t. But at least now I know what I’m really fighting against.”
“Which is?”
“A ghost,” Jade said simply. “A mean-spirited ghost who’s been haunting my family’s bakery since before my grandmother was born. Eleanor fought her for thirty years. I’ve been fighting for three weeks. And I’m so tired, Fee.”
The admission cost her something. Felicity reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
“Bennett women don’t quit,” Felicity said, echoing Jade’s earlier determination.
Jade smiled. “No, they don’t.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Leo was three slices into a mediocre frozen pizza when his phone started ringing somewhere in the house. The sound was muffled, distant, and it took him a moment to place it—not the kitchen counter, not his coat pocket, not the usual spots.
The ringing continued, insistent.
He abandoned his plate and followed the sound through the living room, finally tracking it to the couch where it had apparently slid between the cushions at some point during his earlier attempt at a nap that had really just been staring at the ceiling for two hours.
“Hello?” he answered, slightly out of breath.
