you proud,” he said, looking as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
Lori glanced up at Tom, who nodded with tears in his eyes.
“We accept, Scooter,” Lori replied, then embraced the man.
But Bridget wasn’t convinced. Not yet. Not after what he’d said and what he’d done.
“You don’t make promises,” she said as her voice, sharp and strong, sliced through the room.
He met her gaze head-on with conviction written all over his face. “I do now because I understand what it means.”
“What does it mean to you?” she challenged.
Her senses heightened as he walked toward her—each of his footfalls vibrating through her body.
“It means something like this,” he replied, unzipping his coat and retrieving a folded packet of papers from his breast pocket. He handed them over to her, and she stared at the first few lines.
Bridget Dasher
Owner
Cupid Bakery Corporation
She glanced at the judge and then back to Soren.
“You’re giving me a company? When did you have time to put this together?” she asked, dumbfounded.
The hint of a boyish grin bloomed on his lips. “Kringle Acres has a remarkably robust business center, and Mr. and Mrs. Angel just happened to be in the lobby, so I asked them if this was a workable solution to their company’s situation.”
Workable situation?
She kept reading. “It says here that Mr. and Mrs. Angel only want to remain involved in an advisory capacity.”
“Yes, no one in their family is interested in taking over the business. They’re ready to retire, and after sampling your cookies and seeing how you jumped at the chance to help the Kringle Cares group without a second thought, they feel the company would be in good hands with you at the helm.”
“Oh,” she answered, back to one-syllable utterances.
Not ten minutes ago, she was ready to forge ahead and open her own shop. Never, in a million years, did she see herself in charge of hundreds of bakeries across the country.
“All it takes is a signature, and it’s yours if you want it. But there’s a condition,” he said.
She schooled her features and stared him down. “Of course, there is. What is it? The second I lose a penny, the company gets sliced and diced for profits?”
“No, you would be in complete control of the company. Rudolph Holdings will provide a healthy injection of cash to implement whatever changes and upgrades you choose to make. Rest assured, I’ll have no say in what happens after that. If you choose to sell the business or decide you only want to specialize in making those croque-whatever ball desserts, it’s all up to you.”
Holy Christmas surprise!
In her hands, she held the chance to save a company that cared about its employees and its community. But that wasn’t all she held.
This was a chance to save herself—to take the leap. But could she trust Soren?
She turned to the judge. “Is this for real?”
The man nodded. “It is, Birdie. And Mr. and Mrs. Angel expressed quite passionately that they very much want you to take over.”
She stared at the contract in disbelief. “But they hardly know me?”
“They know your character, and they also know that you’ve always been on the nice list,” the judge replied, cracking a grin.
She frowned. This was getting stranger by the second. “The nice list? That’s really a thing?”
“And,” the judge continued, “Ernie Angel would also like you to bake him a dozen sugar cookies. Not to mention, the residents of Kringle Acres also requested more of your peanut butter blossoms. It seems your baking skills have impressed even the most highly acclaimed cookie enthusiasts. If anyone knows good baking, it’s a bunch of retired Santas, wouldn’t you agree?”
It seemed too good to be true.
“Birdie, think of what Grandma Dasher wrote,” Lori said from the other side of the room.
She met her sister’s gaze, then looked around the room. All eyes were on her.
She lifted her chin a fraction and focused on the man in front of her. She wasn’t sold yet.
“What’s the condition?”
“That’s the second promise I need to make today,” Soren replied, his eyes burning with determination.
She watched him closely. “The condition is a promise?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. Cupid Bakery is yours whether you choose to believe what I’m about to promise or not. But I hope you do.”
“Are you two a thing?” Russ asked, scratching his head as Denise gave the man duh eyes.
“So, you were the ones who raided Frosty,” Delores added, biting back a grin.
Oh boy! She’d almost forgotten they had an audience.
“Russ, Bridget