Cards that compared calories, ingredients, protein levels, sugar content—whoa, that was a big one—and seed oils? “She made everything in Sugarfall sound like poison.”
“My dad thinks it is, but?—”
“Which is why this…thismatchmaking…is the dumbest thing a smart person ever suggested. Please, can we get back to work, Olivia?”
She sighed, biting her lip and ignoring him.
“Benny.” She leaned in, her eyes holding him like one of those magnets. “Don’t you want a dad?”
He swallowed. Of course he did. “I have one.”
“And he’s about as present and loving as my mother, which is basically zero and never.”
She’d told him enough about her mom, who moved out to Los Angeles a while ago, to know that was true. Benny’s dad, Sam Sutton, hadn’t even shown up for his eleventh birthday in September.
“Well, I have Grandpa Red,” he said.
“Who’s a hundred.”
He sniffed at the implication. “He’s perfectly healthy and the greatest person who ever lived.”
She held up her hand. “I know, I know. I like him a lot. In fact, I’d like him to bemygreat-grandfather, too, which he would be if…” She made her fingers walk and hummed thatHere Comes The Bridesong he’d heard Aunt Cindy hum.
“You’re crazy,” he said.
“You know I’m right.”
He looked down at his notes, hating to admit how many times he’d had the same thought. Marshall Hampton was the coolest guy he knew. Once, he’d offered to teach Benny how to throw a football, which was something totally geeky brainiacs didn’t get to do.
The bell over the bakery door jingled, and an older lady with gray hair pulled tightly off her face walked in, looking around before she smiled at Benny and waved.
“Who’s that?” Olivia asked as the lady brushed some snowflakes from a bright red wool coat and walked toward them.
“Mrs. Locke,” he said. “She basically runs everything in Park City. If she’s here, she wants money, time, donations, or to hang a flyer in the window.” When she reached them, he said, “Hi, Mrs. Locke.”
“Hello, Benny. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you looking for my mom?”
“I am.” She glanced past all the pastry displays to the kitchen. “Is she here?”
“She had to go into an emergency cake meeting with a customer, but I can give her a message for you.”
She looked from him to Olivia, a smile growing. “You’re such a nice young man, Benny. They just don’t make them like you anymore. And who is your beautiful friend?”
“I’m Olivia Hampton.” She straightened and held out her hand to shake Mrs. Locke’s. “My dad and I moved here last year. He owns?—”
“Craving Clean!” she exclaimed, shaking Olivia’s hand. “I’m just on my way over there to talk to him.”
“He’s not there right now,” Olivia said. “He took my dog to the vet for her checkup and shots.” She made a face. “I didn’t go because I can’t stand it when Kat cries.”
“You have a dog named Kat?” she asked, pulling out the third chair, so Benny grabbed his science book to let her sit down.
He was so used to people’s reactions to Olivia’s dog’s name, he didn’t even smile. Like his own pup, Sir Isaac Newton, Kat was named for a famous scientist, Katherine Johnson, so Benny had mad respect for that.
“It’s a long story,” Olivia said to the woman. “But I can give my dad a message for you, too.”
“Awesome. I’m the coordinator for Park City’s seasonal festivals,” she said, “and I was hoping to speak with each of them about their gingerbread entries for the holiday festival.”
