Page 22 of Sweet Christmas Comeback
"Are not negotiable," Cecily snapped. Then she lifted her chin. "Still… given the event, I might be willing to agree to a reprieve. But only on the condition that a full plan for repairs and compliance is submitted to the committee at Monday’s town meeting. If the plan is satisfactory, operations may continue while the work is carried out. If not—" she let the pause stretch, savoring it, "immediate shut down. No excuses, no delays."
Morrison hesitated, then nodded slowly. "That would be acceptable, provided there are no immediate hazards."
Jade’s throat tightened. "We’ll have a plan ready," she said quickly, though she had no idea where to even start.
Cecily’s thin smile deepened. "Good. Because I’ll be presenting my report at that same meeting. I’ll make certain the committee understands exactly what’s at stake. You’d better be prepared to prove this place isn’t a danger—or your little bakery closes for good."
Her gaze flicked toward the windows, where the fresh pine garland draped in neat green swoops. "At least you’ve managed compliance with the décor. That’s… refreshing."
She turned toward the door, her words cutting like frost. "Enjoy the weekend, Mrs. Bennett. Monday will decide your fate."
The door closed with a sharp click, leaving the bakery in tense silence.
Ida snapped her peppermint stick in half with surgical precision, her sharp eyes following Cecily's retreat through the window. "Well, I never," she muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Ruth looked up from her treats, her gentle face creased with concern. "Poor dear," she said, glancing at Jade with genuine sympathy. "Don't you let that woman get under your skin."
"That's easy for you to say," Jade replied, slumping against the counter. "She's got the power to shut us down."
"Temporarily," Ida corrected, her voice carrying the authority of someone who'd witnessed decades of small-town drama. "Cecily's always been one for throwing her weight around, especially when it comes to this bakery."
"What do you mean?" Jade asked, moving closer to their table.
Ida and Ruth exchanged a meaningful look—the kind that passed between old friends who'd shared seventy years of secrets and gossip.
"Your great-grandmother had the same troubles with Cecily's great-grandmother," Ruth said gently, setting down her pastry. "Constance Glick made poor Eleanor's life miserable for years."
"But why?" Jade pressed. "What did she have against a bakery?"
Ida's eyes glinted with old knowledge, but her expression grew cautious. "Well, that's a story with more layers than one of Mabel's cakes, isn't it, Ruth?"
Ruth nodded slowly. "There were... complications. Old wounds that never properly healed. Your great-grandmother was a wonderful woman, dear, but she carried some heavy burdens."
"What kind of burdens?" Jade asked, sensing there was more to the story.
The two elderly women exchanged another look, this one more weighted with unspoken history.
"That's not really our story to tell," Ida said finally, though her tone suggested she was bursting to share more. "But I will say this—Cecily learned her grudge-holding from an expert. Sometimes old hurts get passed down like family recipes, whether they should or not."
"The important thing," Ruth added softly, "is that your great-grandmother never let Constance's harassment stop her from serving this community. This bakery weathered those storms, and it'll weather this one too."
Alone with Mabel, Jade finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of the morning's stress. They had five days to pull off the Tree Lighting festivities, and then they'd face an inspection that could shut them down permanently.
"Maybe I should have stayed in Boston," she said quietly.
"Nonsense," Mabel replied firmly. "Your great-grandmother faced down Constance Glick for thirty years and never backed down once. You've got Bennett blood in your veins—that means you don't quit when things get difficult."
Jade looked around the bakery—at the gleaming display case, the warm light from the repaired fixtures, the evidence of their hard work and growing success. Cecily might have the power to make their lives difficult, but she didn't have the power to erase what they'd built.
"You're right," Jade said, picking up her piping bag with renewed determination. "We've got cookies to finish and a festival to prepare for. Monday can take care of itself."
Outside, the December afternoon was bright and cold, with the kind of crisp air that made everything seem possible. Tonight, they'd test their festival route with Leo and the reindeer. Sunday, they'd show the whole town what Sugar Pine Sweets was capable of.
Whatever Monday brought, they'd face it then.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Six o’clock came faster than she thought.
