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  “That’s easy.” Brody pointed to his mouth with the tip of his pencil. “She chews on her bottom lip when she’s bluffing.”

  “I had no idea. Thank you.” Jaye smiled at Mitch. “I like your family.”

  He grinned in her direction.

  She had to bite her lip to stop from admitting how much she was starting to like him, too.

  Chapter Ten

  “Dad, if we schedule another meeting next Saturday, our employees will have good reason to despise me. Nobody likes working on weekends.” Pressing the phone to her ear, Jaye sat on one of the lobby’s couches. “Let me see if I can get up there on Friday afternoon.”

  “Don’t bother. I reserved the Biltmore Room at the Hilton for the entire day. They’ll provide the meals while you and your team get up to speed.”

  “All day? That’s asking a lot. They’ve already put in forty hours during the week.”

  His voice drilled through the phone. “They are well compensated for their time.”

  Jaye massaged her forehead to ease her headache’s strengthening throb. Her father was used to getting his way, but his interference threatened to dismantle the goodwill she’d built with her team last weekend.

  “This is the second weekend in a row we’re asking them to work.” She thought of the joy on the twins’ faces when Mitch tossed the football with them last night after dinner. “They need time to spend with their families.”

  Her father pressed on. “How far have you gotten on your report for the Board of Directors?”

  She stared up at the vaulted ceiling, bracing herself for his frustration. After twenty-six years of disappointing him, she wondered why she still felt such a strong pang. “It’s half done.”

  “Finish it. I want to review the whole thing on Sunday.”

  “I won’t have time to finish the report. I’m working full days for my client. The Board meeting is three months away, so I’ll finish the report when I return to Davis Software full-time.”

  “I still want to see what you’ve drafted this weekend. By the way, David called yesterday. He said you aren’t talking to him. You need to answer the next time he phones.”

  The chastisement in his voice made her feel like a naughty child. “There’s a good reason I’m not taking his calls, Dad.”

  He didn’t ask why. To do so would invite a discussion about feelings, something her father didn’t do. Or have.

  Jaye swallowed. Her throat felt like it was coated in sand. “Why did David call you?”

  Silence sucked at her ear.

  Her father had already hung up.

  “Goodbye, Dad. Nice talking to you, too.” Lowering the phone, she strode toward her office. Hopelessness billowed inside like a dark, menacing thundercloud. Turning the corner, she recognized the set of broad shoulders propped against Nick’s doorway.

  “Can you come to the warehouse now?” Mitch curled his hand around the doorframe. His knuckles were smudged a charcoal gray from blowing glass all morning.

  The sight of his hand reminded her of how he doctored her scrape yesterday, and the thundercloud lifted.

  “No, son.” Nick responded. “I’ve got to finish this sales proposal.”

  “I just need you for a minute, Dad.”

  “You’re wasting your time. I’m not changing our methods in the warehouse, not after I spent so much money hiring a storage consultant a couple of years ago.”

  “The guys in shipping are having trouble finding what they need, but I’ve come up with a simple solution. I just need your okay so our men know you’re on board with the changes.”

  “Some other time, son.”

  Mitch’s hand flexed. “When?”

  “Some. Other. Time.”

  “Fine.” Mitch stepped into the hallway and spotted her. The irritation on his face evaporated. “Hey, how’s your hand?”

  “Forget about my hand.” This was the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam after being manipulated by her father. While their relationship might not ever change, perhaps the Blake men could reconcile—but Nick would have to prove he was willing to support Mitch. She raised her voice a bit. “Why do you want to change the warehouse? Didn’t a consultant design a special layout just for this company?”

  Mitch shrugged. “He arranged the warehouse a few years ago. The configuration doesn’t work any more.”

  She blew out an exaggerated sigh in the hope Nick would hear. “I’m so tired of you assuming consultants have no idea what they’re talking about.”

  Mitch frowned. “I haven’t said that…lately.”

  “You’ve thought it, though. I can tell.”

  He scratched his head. “How can you tell?”

  “You get that look on your face.” She waved her fingers near his baffled eyes.

  “What look?”

  “The one you have right now.” The confused furrow along his brow looked so darned irresistible, she had to bite back a smile. “Show me your warehouse. I bet you can’t prove the layout needs an overhaul.”

  “An overhaul isn’t necessary. We just need to tweak the system.”

  “Oh, come on. Admit it. You don’t respect anything the storage expert suggested because he was a consultant.” She thwacked the back of her hand against his flat belly.

  He let out a surprised grunt.

  “Wait a second, Jaye. Mitch has a point.” Nick rose from his desk. “Our storage consultant was here three years ago. A lot has changed since then. We’ve introduced a number of new lines. Keeping each one straight is important, otherwise shipping has a heck of a time finding everything. I’ll show you.” Nick strode past and waved at them. “Come on, you two.”

  “Right behind you.” Jaye nudged Mitch.

  He grabbed her elbow. “What was that all about?”

  “Thought I’d pick a fight to see if Nick came to your defense, and he did.” She offered a cheerful grin. “There’s hope for you two. Judging by the way Nick jumped to your defense when I started this fake argument, I’d say your team looks to be in pretty good shape.”

  “Yeah, as long as Dad and I don’t spend any time alone.” He released her and headed down the hallway.

  “Why?”

  “He’s afraid I’ll ask him a question.”

  Jaye lengthened her stride to catch up. “What question?”

  His mouth slanted into an angry sneer. “Anything about my mother.”

  Jaye wandered through the warehouse’s aisles, feeling small compared to the boxes of stemware stacked from floor to ceiling. At the farthest corner of the warehouse, she encountered something different—a set of shelves shielded by burlap.

  She peeked behind the rough curtain and sucked in a surprised gulp of air at the glass sculptures sitting on the shelves. The glass glinted like gems, throwing light out from every facet. The entire collection could have been plundered from a lost, magical world.

  When she heard the footfall of heavy work boots approach, she turned to Mitch in blank amazement. “You made these, didn’t you?”

  “I thought you went back to the factory.” With a flick of his wrist, he lowered the canvas to cloak the glimmering glass.

  “Have you sold any of your pieces?”

  He answered her question with a brusque shake of his head.

  “Your creations would fly off the shelves in an art gallery,” she insisted. “People would pay a lot of money to own your work.”

  “Forget it. You were hired to design our virtual marketplace. Time to get back to work.” He put his hand on her lower back and escorted her out of the warehouse. On the path leading to the factory, he lengthened his stride.

  She hurried to match his gait. “I can’t get over what I just saw. Those sculptures were amazing, Mitch. You are an unbelievably talented artist.”

  He turned his face away. “I’m no artist.”

  “Wait.” She grabbed the back of Mitch’s T-shirt to stop him. “I know someone who owns an art gallery in New York. Can I send him pictures of your scu
lptures? He might want to buy them.”

  “They aren’t for sale.”

  She opened her arms. “What will you do with them? Keep them hidden away forever?”

  “No. After a while, I’ll throw them into the furnace. Once the glass melts, I’ll use it for something else.”

  “What?” She jammed her fists on her hips. “You can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I can. And I do.” He stepped around her and continued down the path.

  Jaye jogged in front of him and splayed both palms on his chest with a growl of irritation. “You’re walking away from me just like your father walks out on you in mid-sentence. I find the habit very irritating.”

  “What do you want me to do, Jaye? Tell you outright to keep your pretty little nose out of my business?”

  “Well, yes. I’d like to hear what you are thinking, instead of watching you storm away.”

  “Fine, then.” He leaned into her palms, his flinty blue eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t call me an artist. I’m no flighty kook who listens to the fanciful pull of his muse. I don’t hunger for approval from a bunch of snooty art experts who don’t care what their stinging critiques might do to a person’s psyche. And I’ll never walk away from my responsibilities here to follow my heart like some artists I know.”

  Animosity rolled off him like she’d just hit a very raw nerve. She had no idea what he was talking about. “Like who?”

  “I might as well tell you, because everyone else knows the story.” He led her into the factory, not stopping until he pointed at one of the large canvas paintings on the lobby wall. “See this? My mother was the artist in the family. She painted every piece of art hanging in the lobby. She helped my father and I build this place. Then, out of the blue, she left.”

  Stunned, Jaye brought her hand up to her mouth. “What happened?”

  “Damned if I know. One day, she walked into the studio and told me she was leaving.” Mitch exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “She said someday, I’d understand. I never have.”

  The studio door opened and Freddie peered into the lobby. “Oh, there you are, Mitch. I’m ready to get back to work whenever you are.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” Mitch slid both hands into his back pockets and looked at Jaye. “Is there anything else you want to know before I walk away?”

  Aware of Freddie watching them, Jaye shook her head. On impulse, she gave the hard band of his forearm a poke. “I won’t be around tonight for dinner. I’m playing poker with the girls.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Lips pressed into a straight line, he pointed a finger at her. “Win enough money to buy me a juicy steak for tomorrow’s dinner, instead of serving me some lousy liver.”

  She blinked, surprised he was willing to joke so soon after he exposed his private pain. An admiring smile crept onto her lips. “You are definitely an enigma, Mitchell Blake.”

  “You mean a superhero, right?” he smirked.

  “If you are a superhero, who is your arch enemy?”

  His grin faded. “Anyone who hurts Blake Glassware.”

  She felt a pang of guilt. Her virtual marketing plan met every one of Nick Blake’s specifications and none of Mitch’s. Would her allegiance to Nick hurt Blake Glassware? After seeing the incredible glass sculptures in the warehouse, she knew Mitch’s instincts should be taken into account, too.

  Somehow, the balance of power between the two men had to be restored. What was stopping Mitch from speaking his mind?

  When she spotted Mitch’s guilty look at his mother’s painting on his way out of the lobby, Jaye had a feeling he blamed himself for his mother’s departure. If he felt responsible for the rift in his family, he probably felt some measure of blame for their business problems, too.

  Veronica shuffled the deck with the deft flair of a Vegas dealer and nudged Jaye. “You seem quiet tonight. What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry. I’m a bit preoccupied.” Perhaps these ladies would have some answers. “Mitch said his mother left two years ago. He thinks she wants nothing to do with Blake Glassware, but Nick told me she still owns twenty percent of the firm. If she doesn’t care about the factory, why doesn’t she sell her stake?”

  “There’s no easy answer to your question.” Veronica shook her head.

  Abigail made a sound of agreement. “Mitch’s folks built this factory when he was in high school. He was there every day after school, laying bricks, doing whatever they needed. After the company got up and running, his mother handled all the administrative stuff while Nick did the glasswork. She was a terrific artist, but she sacrificed painting to run the factory. Creating jobs was important to her. She was always thinking about other people before herself.”

  “So true.” Sarah rubbed her pregnant belly with a sigh. “After Mitch finished college, he became a glassblower like his Dad. I think he liked working with his folks, but he didn’t see how Liz became less a wife and more an employee. Nick treated her like a partner, for sure, but not like a wife. Had to be tough for her.”

  “Why did she leave?” Jaye asked.

  “Rumor was she met someone, but I don’t believe it.” Abigail picked up the cards Veronica dealt. “Things were strained between Liz and Nick, but I have no idea what caused the friction. They never aired their differences at work.”

  “Which could’ve been part of the problem.” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. “The day you stop fighting is the day you stop caring.”

  “Mitch was furious she walked away from everything they worked so hard to build.” Veronica watched everyone to throw their chips into the center of the table before she raised the stakes. “He and Nick got into a huge fight. Remember, Abby?”

  “How could I forget? We could hear the two of them yelling clear down the hall.” Abigail made a face at her cards and folded. “Mitch wanted his father to go after her, but Nick refused. Even worse, he wouldn’t tell Mitch what went wrong.”

  “Which explains the tension between them.” Jaye was all too familiar with the drawbacks of working with family.

  “Yep.”

  “Nick met Elise a couple of months after Liz left. Mitch wasn’t too happy about his father remarrying, but he’s crazy about Elise’s boys. He took them right under his wing.” Sarah smiled at Jaye. “I’ve always thought he’d be a great father.”

  “I think he’s a hunk.” Abigail’s wrinkled cheeks turned a pretty pink color. “I’d marry him in a heartbeat.”

  “I doubt he’ll go for another big wedding, so keep it small,” Sarah teased.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, ladies. He’s a determined loner.” Veronica stared at her cards and chewed her bottom lip.

  “I’m all in.” Jaye pushed all her chips into the center of the table.

  “You wanna play? Okay, let’s play.” Veronica tossed her remaining chips into the kitty.

  “Too rich for my blood.” Sarah put down her cards. “I fold.”

  “All right, city girl.” Veronica peered over the top of her cards. “Let’s see what you have.”

  Jaye laid down her cards, face up. “A pathetic pair of fives.”

  Veronica made a face of disgust and laughed. “I’ve got nothing, Jaye. The pot is yours.”

  She pulled the winnings toward her, but the victory felt hollow. After hearing Veronica call Mitch a determined loner, Jaye couldn’t shake her disappointment.

  “Why don’t you want what I want? I’ve been trying to figure out why we’re so different, and for the life of me, I can’t.”

  “Beats me,” Jaye muttered. She walked into Mitch’s kitchen and hung up her coat. She stopped by the window to stare at the silvery shadows slanting across the back yard.

  “We were good together, especially when you were in handcuffs…”

  She jammed the phone into her back pocket and rubbed her left wrist, remembering how chaffed her skin got the night they acted out David’s sexual fantasy. Was she asking too much for a man to want her just as she was, without manacles and leather bonds?


  “Nothing wrong with tying her up.” Mitch strode into the kitchen with his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I can’t think of a better way to stop her from running away.”

  Blood pounded in her ears. Jaye’s mouth dropped open.

  “Try galvanized cable, which is stronger than rope.” He reached into the bag of cookies sitting on the counter and popped two in his mouth. “No, the cable won’t hurt her. The plastic coating won’t dig into her skin. Heck, she may even like chewing on it.”

  Cloaked by the shadows, Jaye stared at Mitch’s black shorts and white t-shirt and wondered if that’s what men with galvanized cable fetishes wore.

  “No, Phil. She’ll pull a stake out of the ground. You’re better off bolting a lead to the house. That’s what my family did for our dog.”

  Jaye let out a relieved sigh. They were talking about Phil’s new puppy, not his wife.

  “I can give you a hand, all right? See you tomorrow.” He slid the phone onto the counter and opened the refrigerator. Bright light illuminated his face. He pulled out the orange juice, shook the carton, and chugged a mouthful from the spout.

  “Have you been drinking from the milk carton, too?” she asked.

  He coughed and slammed down the carton on the counter, drawing the back of his hand across his mouth. “I thought you went to your room.”

  “Nope. I was distracted by the moon.” She looked outside at the silver light cascading over the distant mountains. In the window’s reflection, she saw Mitch gesture toward the orange juice.

  “Sorry. I’m used to living alone. Guess you saw me eat those cookies, too.”

  “No problem. I got them for both of us.”

  “Thanks.” He screwed the cap on the orange juice. “Did you win tonight?”

  “Veronica’s not too happy with me. She can’t buy new dishes for at least another week.” Jaye turned her head to study him. “What do men want?”