A single mother at twenty-five, Gracie had used her natural talent, business acumen, and a few years of formal training as a pastry chef to build a thriving business. She’d taken out a loan and purchased an existing bakery in this location, then rebranded it from top to bottom.
Now nearly as old as Benny, Sugarfall required two professional bakers, some counter staff during peak hours, andone special event manager who worked with hotels and wedding planners all over Park City and beyond.
Not as outgoing as Nicole or as optimistic as her mother, Gracie built her little empire with quiet determination and attention to detail. Few people knew this, because Gracie was soft-spoken, but there was no doubt where Benny got his impressive intelligence. On top of that, she was as sweet as the desserts she offered her guests.
And Cindy loved her niece as much as she loved her own daughter.
Just as Cindy unzipped her jacket, Gracie came out from the back kitchen, holding a small pink box.
“Hi Aunt Cindy!” she called, coming closer and presenting the box. “We made your favorite white chocolate raspberry amaretto cake.” She practically sang the dessert’s decadent name. “And I saved you a piece because you came to town to see me.”
“Thank you, darling.” She leaned in and air-kissed her niece, then eyed her suspiciously. “Of course I came. You made it sound intriguing.”
“I didn’t mean to be cryptic,” she said. “I just wanted you to come with an open mind. Plus, I know you’re busy.”
Cindy wasn’t that busy, to be honest, and the twenty-minute drive was a welcome break from the lodge.
“I was busy wrapping fake presents,” Cindy said with a laugh. “Nic’s idea to put the sleigh out is great, but Benny in charge of wrapping? Not so great. I helped him put real ribbons on and removed the duct tape. This was a nice escape.”
“Good.” She guided her toward a small two-top table near a window. “Can I get you a coffee? We brewed that Euro blend you love. With heavy cream and a sugar stick?”
“Of course. Do you have time to join me?”
“Someone does. Sit tight.”
What did that mean?
While Cindy took off her jacket, Gracie slipped behind the counter to the coffee station. Cindy glanced around at the happy faces of the Sugarfall clientele, not seeing anyone she knew, but that wasn’t unusual.
This was the height of tourist season and the locals who lived and worked here—people Cindy had known her whole life—were all busy serving those tourists.
If they were lucky enough to have that business, she thought glumly.
Her niece came back holding a steaming cup finished with a tall stirring stick laden with sugar crystals that melted into the drink. One thing Gracie never skimped on—sugar.
Placing the cup in front of Cindy, she dropped into the other chair and gave her an expectant look.
Cindy blew on the hot drink but didn’t sip. “All right. You’ve got my full attention. And gratitude for this coffee and cake.”
Gracie’s smile was tight and weirdly nervous. “Remember how on Thanksgiving we all decided we’d, you know, ‘put on our thinking caps’ to solve the problems at Snowberry?”
Cindy nodded. “You want to open a second Sugarfall in the lodge? ’Cause I’d say yes.”
“Not a bad plan, but no. However, I do talk to a lot of people,” she said, brushing the bakery’s logo on the front of her flour-dusted apron, once again sounding apprehensive. “And I met someone who might be able to help.”
Cindy finally sipped her coffee, lifting a brow. “I’m all ears,” she said after swallowing.
“It’s a slightly…different approach,” she said. “But I think it has potential.”
Cindy studied her lovely niece, waiting for more.
“There’s a man who comes in here once in a while,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “He owns several propertiesthroughout the West and has invested in a few boutique hotels around Utah. We were talking and I mentioned Snowberry and told him a little about our history and…our issues.”
“You told a stranger?”
“Anadvisor,” she corrected. “He wasn’t surprised, honestly, and really knows the market and property values. Everything. I think he might help with an investment.”
Cindy shot a brow up. “An investor? Would it be like a loan? I don’t want to saddle us—or you, in the future—with debt and interest.” And she didn’t needanotherbill to pay.
