“You’ve a knack for business, Sam. Invest wisely.”
Except his father had completely discredited himself when he—
Rick interrupted his thought. Thank goodness. “I’ve got a property for us.”
“Not another franchise?” Sam was always the face of whatever fast-food venture they bought. It was getting old.
He and Rick formed their investment partnership in the early days of Sam’s pro career, right after they graduated from Tennessee. Besides the fast-food franchises, they owned a car dealership and a small start-up tech company Rick was sure would make Apple and Microsoft look like also-rans one day. Sam let him have his little fantasy. It didn’t cost them much.
“Better than a franchise. It’s a mom-and-pop business in a quaint, touristy small town. The owners are retiring…” Rick’s pause made the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck come to attention. What was he up to now? Whatever it was, Sam wasn’t going to like it. “It’s a bakery. There’s just one little, tiny issue…” Rick trailed off again.
“Quit stalling and tell me.”
“That quaint small town is Hearts Bend.”
Sam’s breath hitched. “Wait…a bakery? Are you talking about Haven’s?” Sam heard the sound of papers ruffling in the background.
“Yeah, that’s it. Bob and Donna Morton are retiring.”
“Retiring? Wow…” He felt a wash of sentiment. One of his favorite, albeit buried, memories was Saturday morning trips to Haven’s with his parents. Crullers and chocolate milk made him the man he was today. “I love Haven’s, but Rick, I don’t want to own anything in HB. I can see you calling me up and going, ‘You need to run to Hearts Bend to check on something for me.’”
He’d put his hometown, and his memories tainted by his parents’ broken relationship, behind him when he left for college. Since he’d walked in on his father kissing Janice—who happened to be the mother of Sam’s best friend—fifteen years ago, he’d not discussed much with Frank beyond the possibility of rain on the Fourth of July.
But Rick was still talking about Haven’s. “Buddy, this is a good deal. We can’t pass on it. The financials are solid. Bob was a smart businessman.”
“You already made the deal, didn’t you?”
“The staff has been there forever. Very experienced.”
“Is one of them going to run the place? Who’s going to do all the baking? Carry the vision?”
“Dude, you sound like we’ve never done this before. We’ll do what we always do. Hire a baker, a savant, who can manage the place, cast the vision.” Rick sounded pleased with himself.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Say, is Ruby still there? She used to give me extra chocolate milk when my folks weren’t looking.” Sam grinned at the recollection of the cold goodness sliding down his throat, made sweeter by the secrecy.
“She’s still there. Saw her name on the employee list. Been there thirty years. She’ll be a wealth of knowledge to our new manager. I’ve got a headhunter looking for a baker now. I’d like to get on it fast.”
Haven’s without Bob and Donna. What would that even look like? No Bob with his Pillsbury belly and Santa laughs behind the register, no Donna singing along to the radio in the kitchen, her cheeks flushed from the heat, her nose dotted with flour. Life moved fast, didn’t it?
Which was exactly why Sam had to play this fall. Why he had to secure his own Super Bowl ring. He’d just passed thirty. His father was turning sixty. Life moved on without guarantees. Then folks like the Mortons retired and took precious childhood memories with them. Sam’s adult self might not care for Hearts Bend, but his child self couldn’t have been raised in a better town.
“Sam? We good on this one?”
“My father’s insurance agency is down the street from Haven’s. Maybe we should pass on this one.” If he and Rick owned a business on the same street as Hardy Insurance, what would come next? Exchanging May Day baskets and shaking hands at Chamber of Commerce mixers?
“You don’t have to see him. He doesn’t even have to know you own the bakery. HARDRICK LLC will own it.” Rick could be persuasive when it came to their fiscal bottom line. “We should probably meet to hire a new bakery manager in person, but otherwise, if you don’t want to be point on this one, I’ll handle things from Atlanta. That’s how we do everything else.” It was like Rick read his mind. “Sam, believe it or not, this bakery is one of the best deals we’ve come across. Look up Hearts Bend tourism and revenue. Busting at the seams. If we don’t get in now, it’ll cost us double to get in later, if we manage to get in at all.”
Sam stopped for a red light and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re right, I know it, but Frank and I—”
“You’re a grown man, Sam. Act like it. When can you get to Hearts Bend to sign the papers? This week preferably.”
Signing this week? So, Rick must’ve purchased the place when Sam was having surgery. Note to self: tell him not to do that again.
He hated when Rick played the older brother. Hated it even more when he was right.
“Fine. I’ve an appointment with Dr. Morgan in Hearts Bend Thursday. I can meet you then.”
“Actually, that’s perfect. Bob and Donna want us to interview some local woman for baker and manager. They say she’s very good. Lots of experience.”
