Clear as Glass Read online

  An hour later, she returned to the factory. The parking lot was clear, the sidewalks were shoveled, and Mitch’s old blue pickup truck wasn’t the only vehicle in the parking lot. Nick Blake’s SUV stood beside the curb. Apparently, Blake men couldn’t stay away from their factory on the weekend.

  She stomped the snow off her boots and walked into the brick building. Deep voices drifted from the administrative offices. Jaye headed down the hallway to see if Mitch was ready to go home.

  “I managed to look at our financials this week.” Anger dripped from his Mitch’s words. “Had a helluva time getting into our software. My password didn’t work.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Nick said.

  Jaye stopped near Nick’s office, picturing the two men glaring at one another on either side of the desk.

  “I didn’t think you’d talk to me,” Mitch responded. “I thought you didn’t want me to see the balance sheet.”

  “No, that’s not right.” Nick’s voice shook. “A consultant told me to change our password every once in a while for security reasons.”

  “Should’ve guessed a consultant had something to do with this,” Mitch muttered.

  “Are you questioning my judgment?”

  “How else am I supposed to react? We almost had our power shut off because you planned a sales trip rather than pay the bills.” Mitch’s voice sharpened. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark, Dad. I had no idea you took out a huge loan. Why’d you borrow so much money?”

  Jaye heard the distinct slap of a hand thumping a desk.

  “I’m trying to save the damn business, son.”

  “By mortgaging Blake Glassware?”

  “No, by dragging our factory kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. If you might recall, we had to get a new furnace, update the computer system, and hire someone to get us online.”

  “Speaking of which, I found Jaye’s contract. She isn’t costing us a dime.”

  “We’re lucky she agreed to those terms. I was in an awful bind. A couple of months ago, I hired another consultant to do the work off-site, but he wasn’t a good fit. Even though I fired him, we still had to pay for his time. Jaye was the only consultant willing to do the work now and take payment later.”

  “Only if our profits grow. How could you, Dad? What a rotten deal for her.”

  “Have you got any other brilliant ideas? We’re not swimming in cash. If you haven’t noticed, we lost our primary source of funding when your mother left two years ago.”

  Jaye’s stomach twisted around the knowledge Mitch’s mother was wealthy, just like her. She approached the doorway and caught a glimpse of Mitch’s arm slashing through the air.

  “Mom got tired of us treating her like a bank. Too bad money was all she was willing to give.”

  His voice was an angry sneer, like he resented every dollar in his mother’s account. Once he discovered how many dollars were stuffed into Jaye’s accounts, would he resent her too? Stumbling away, she hitched her camera strap higher on her shoulder and walked out of the factory.

  Jaye’s snowball flew through the air, hitting Mitch square in the back. A powdery starburst appeared between his shoulders. Nailing him felt good. Jaye had a feeling his mother would approve.

  He looked over his shoulder and frowned. “I’ve been looking for you. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not ready.” She leaned against the factory’s brick wall. “There’s something we need to do first.”

  “Forget it.” He jabbed an index finger at the thickening sky. “The snow is falling again. Get in the truck.”

  She whipped another snowball. The weapon landed with a gratifying thump on his taut backside.

  He slapped the snow off his butt and drew his brows together in a rigid glare. “I want to get out of here. Are you coming?”

  “You’re not in charge right now, Mitch. I am.” She armed herself with one of the snowballs tucked in the crook of her elbow. “There won’t be any trouble if you put your hands where I can see them.”

  He exhaled. The puff fogged in the cold air like a dragon’s smoky breath. “Dammit, Jaye, I’m not in the mood.”

  Her fingers squeezed the snow, compacting the ball to a hard orb. “Vengeance is never convenient.”

  “Vengeance? For what?”

  She smiled a don’t-mess-with-me smile. “Just do what I ask or this next snowball is hitting you where the sun don’t shine.”

  His jaw jutted. “You’re awfully confident about your aim.”

  “On the first night we met, I hit you in the groin. Do you really want to see if I can nail you in broad daylight?” She tossed the snowball into the air and caught it. “Put your hands in the air where I can see them.”

  He lifted his hands until they were shoulder height. “What now? Are you gonna rob me?”

  “Yes. I’m robbing you of your dignity. Walk to the far end of the parking lot. Don’t try anything funny.” She trailed behind Mitch. His fuming anger added a dangerous element of unpredictability to the situation. How would he react when they entered the snowy meadow bordering the far end of the factory?

  At the corner of the building, he stopped. “What’s the old sled doing here?”

  “Wasn’t doing much good inside the factory. Judging by the layer of dust on the runners, the poor thing hasn’t been used in a while.” She took a look at his surly snarl and knew he wouldn’t cooperate. “Hop on.”

  His hands lowered. “No way.”

  “Sledding is fun.” With her snowball, she pointed at the steep hill. “Show me how far you can go. Be careful, though. I’d hate to see you fall face first into a drift.”

  Scowling, he took a menacing step towards her.

  She launched the snowball. The hard sphere exploded high on his right shoulder, sending cold chunks of slush up into his face.

  “You’re playing with fire.” He swiped snow off his nose with a mad snap of his hand.

  “So are you. I’m tired of being bossed around by a glassblower.” She fired another snowball in his direction. It landed with a loud thwap in the center of his coat. “Get on the sled, or this next snowball is going down your shirt.”

  “Haven’t you figured me out by now?” Mitch took another couple of steps toward her. “I don’t pay attention to what consultants tell me to do.”

  “I don’t like the way you say that word.” She whipped another snowball.

  He feinted so the snowy bullet zinged past his shoulder. With a smirk, he eyed her three remaining snowballs. “What will you do when you run out of ammunition, Miss Davis?”

  Her plan was working. Mitch was focused entirely on her. She stood her ground and yelled, “Get on the sled, Mitchell Blake!”

  “Nag, nag, nag. I’ll fly down the hill when I’m good and ready.” He barreled into her like any good linebacker.

  “Ooph!” The world tipped upside down. Jaye hung over his shoulder like a dirty sack of rock salt. She dropped the snowballs and clawed at the back of his coat. “Put me down!”

  “There must be a consultant talking, because I can’t hear a thing.”

  “Your hearing was damaged by the wild stunts you pulled in college. Speaking of which, are you overcome by an urge to run naked through the snow?”

  He swatted her on the rump. “Streaking can be arranged.”

  “Wait. Let me get my camera. We can post the pictures on your company’s website.”

  “Sales will go through the roof.”

  She laughed, which came out in a piggish snort while she was upside down.

  With a quick move, he flipped her upright and put her on the sled.

  Now that she was at ground level, the hill looked steeper than the Rocky Mountains. She scrambled off, falling knee-first into the snow. “I wanted you to go sledding, not me.”

  “Not so fast, pixie.” He caught her and sat on the sled, plunking her in front of him. “Like most things, sledding is better with two people.”

  “No!” Irritation spike
d. The last thing she needed was another man telling her what to do. She slapped her mittens on his big thighs and pushed herself off the sled’s cold slats.

  He buckled his arm around her waist, trapped her against his body, and lunged forward.

  The sled rocketed downhill, throwing a thick mist of snow into the air. Jaye screamed—surprised, annoyed, and laughing like a kid on a wild amusement park ride all at once.

  They gathered speed, careening toward a gully at the edge of the meadow.

  Twenty feet from the edge, Mitch rolled off the sled and pulled Jaye with him.

  Jaye landed on top of him, scraping her nose on his coat zipper. It figured. Every time a man didn’t listen to her, she got hurt. Jamming her hands into his shoulders, she scrambled to a standing position and swiped the snow off her face. “I didn’t want to fly down this stupid hill, you bully.”

  He got up on one knee and grabbed her arm. “Why are you so mad?”

  Typical. Like everyone else who took money from someone, he had no idea how much being valued only for the size of your bank account hurt. She yanked free of his hold. “I heard you and Nick talking a few minutes ago. Did you really treat your mother like a bank?”

  Mitch shrugged. “She inherited money from her father. How else do you think we financed the factory?”

  “So she carried the burden of never knowing if people wanted her or her wealth. Even her son and husband used her to fund the family business.” She pushed him in the chest. “How could you?”

  “Money was all she was willing to talk about.” He stood, brushing the snow off his jeans with a brusque swipe. “Don’t sit in judgment, Jaye. You weren’t there.”

  “Even a perfect stranger can see you treated her rotten.” She pointed at his chest, but the gesture lost its bite with a warm mitten covering her accusing index finger. “No wonder she doesn’t speak to you.”

  “You don’t understand. My mother and I had a good relationship. Then, all of the sudden, she stopped talking to me. I have no idea what went wrong. Every time I tried to get an answer, she said the topic was off limits.” He flipped his hands open, his expression pained. “She’s my mother, damn it. Isn’t she the one person who’s supposed to talk to me when no one else will?”

  A rush of sorrow doused some of Jaye’s ire. “She wouldn’t tell you why she was upset?”

  “She wouldn’t even look me in the eyes.” A flash of guilt crossed his face. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blameless. The day she left, I behaved like a jerk. I just don’t know what I did to provoke her withdrawal six months before then.”

  “Oh.” A snowflake landed on her nose. She flicked off the lacy bit of ice and wished she hadn’t gotten so angry.

  Mitch walked past her, heading toward the gully.

  Jaye followed, lifting her knees high to get through the snow. She paused beside him at the edge of the meadow. Twenty feet below, a creek ran along the frozen bank. Luckily, Mitch had pulled her off the sled before they went flying off the edge of the meadow. She gazed at the chunks of ice floating down the creek. “The sled is poking out of the water like a popsicle stick.”

  One-handed, he grabbed the back of her coat, pulling her away from the edge. “I’ve seen the ground give way here. Don’t want you to fall into the water and turn into a Jaye-sicle.” He jumped into the gully, landing at the edge of the water as though he’d made the same leap hundreds of times when he was a kid. With a quick yank, he pulled the sled out of the creek.

  “I had no idea there was water at the bottom of this hill. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have suggested we barrel at breakneck speed toward the creek.” She took the sled so he could return to level ground. Backing from the edge, she glanced at the trail they’d blazed down the hill and laughed. “Gosh, that was fun.”

  He took the sled’s rope from her. “Do you want to go again?”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “All right. Come on.” Head down, he started walking up the hill.

  Unwilling to pretend everything was okay, she ran in front of him and pressed both mittens against the puffy ski jacket covering his torso. “Wait, Mitch. I jumped to conclusions about how you treated your mother. I should’ve asked what went on inside your family. Please forgive me.”

  The tight corner of his mouth softened. “You were forgiven the moment you told me why you were angry.”

  The solemn pledge in his gaze made her feel like he just dug his bare hands into the snow to hand her an armload of fragrant red roses. She framed his jaw with her mittens. “But I never made the same promise.” She kissed his mouth, loving the way his warm lips contrasted to the icy snowflakes falling from the gray sky.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I want to take you home, turn on the TV, and pretend to watch football while we fool around on the couch.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “I can’t.” He shook his head. “Phil asked me to show up at his house today to watch the game. I figured you’d be visiting your family, so I said yes.”

  “You should go.”

  “Not without you. Come with me.”

  “Okay. If there will be lots of people there, I might get to watch the game without worrying about you finding a quiet corner to seduce me.”

  “Don’t be so sure, pixie.” His mouth pulled back in a slow, sexy smile. “I’ll come up with something.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  In the two weeks since she arrived at Blake Glassware, Jaye hadn’t socialized with many people. Stepping out created the chance someone would recognize her, and she wanted to protect her anonymity a little while longer. She walked into Phil’s living room and felt her insides whir like a hung-up computer. If those here read the society or technology sections from the Syracuse newspaper, they’d recognize her and she’d be toast.

  Freddie extended a beer to Mitch. “I saved a bottle for you.”

  Instead of taking the drink, Mitch touched the small of her back. “Mind being my designated driver?”

  “I can drive. Go ahead.” She sat on Phil’s brown couch and watched uneasily as Mitch took the beer. The possibility he might drink heavily like her ex-boyfriend unearthed the crippling forebodings she’d buried in the sandy soil of Virginia.

  Twisting off the lid with a quick flick of his wrist, he tipped the amber bottle to his mouth and guzzled half the contents.

  Jaye wondered if he mastered that trick during his fraternity days.

  Exhaling, he sat beside her and rested the bottle on his thigh.

  The sweet scent of yeast triggered painful memories of the last time Jaye smelled alcohol on a man’s breath. Two months ago, she finished work early and decided to surprise David at his apartment. He met her at the door, his breath perfumed with beer. Jaye’s cheerful invitation to dinner sputtered when she looked past his shoulder to spot a dark-haired woman wearing nothing but red stiletto heels and a studded dog collar.

  David didn’t even own a dog.

  Jaye didn’t stick around for explanations. When David sobered up, he insisted he had no idea how the woman got into his apartment. She didn’t believe him. When his psychologist confirmed that heavy drinking could cause blackouts, David was too happy to blame alcohol for his behavior.

  The doctor worked hard to convince Jaye that David’s “problem” would go away with alcohol abstinence, but the good doctor didn’t seem to know how to heal the rip in her heart. A new tear began as Jaye watched Mitch’s thumb swipe the condensation off the neck of his amber beer bottle.

  Phil’s wife set a platter of food on the coffee table and nodded toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink, Jaye?”

  “No thanks. I’m fine,” she lied. A lump of apprehension expanded in the hollow of her chest as Mitch took another long swallow, almost emptying the bottle. At this rate, he’d plow though a six-pack in less than ten minutes.

  How inebriated did he intend to get? Was he a happy drunk? Would he bring home attractive women, like David had?

  Jaye
leaned toward Mitch. “Do you have an extra dog collar lying around at home?”

  “No.” Mitch covered his mouth to mute a soft burp. “Why?”

  She waved her hand. “Never mind. Just wondering.”

  Freddie sat beside Mitch and peered at Jaye. “No skirt? This is the second day in a row I’ve seen you in jeans. Don’t you like us anymore?”

  “At least she’s wearing the right colors: blue jeans and a white shirt.” Phil gave her an approving nod. “Penn State colors.”

  Patti brought in a huge platter of wings, evoking a murmur of approval from the small crowd.

  A round-faced man with a bad case of acne approached and jammed his hands in his pockets. “D’ya think I can sit on the couch, too?”

  “Sure, Harry. There’s always room for another glassblower.” Mitch slid closer to Jaye and Freddie followed suit, making room for Harry at the end. Mitch set his beer on the coffee table and loaded a plate with wings, nachos, and coleslaw. He handed the plate to Jaye. “Dig in. Patti makes awesome wings.”

  Jaye took an appreciative sniff of the food, struck he saw to her needs before his own. Heat from the chicken radiated through the bottom of the plate, warming her cold hands. “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.” He waited until Freddie and Harry filled their plates before loading his own.

  No wonder there was such a strong goodwill radiating from everyone in the room toward Mitch. Without fail, he put the people he cared about first. Jaye lowered her gaze and tried to think of a time when she felt such warm appreciation from her father’s employees. Maybe when the year-end bonuses were handed out.

  Mitch finished his meal and settled back against the cushions. Under the crowded conditions, he pressed his solid shoulder against hers. Beneath the blare of the TV, he asked, “What will you do once you start working for your father? Write code?”

  “No, I’d like to try something different.” She licked sauce off her fingers and put her empty plate atop his. “I’m buying a farm to raise whistle pigs.”

  He didn’t smile at her answer. “You don’t talk much about your family. Why?”