One delicate shoulder shrugged. “Because I like it.”
Mitch shook his head in disgust. “I can draw you something better than a lousy map.”
Her eye narrowed into a suspicious slit. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How ‘bout a hunk of mozzarella flying through the air?”
“No, thanks. I like the map better. Quit distracting me. I’ve got work to do.” She turned with a flourish and sat at her desk.
He nudged open the door. “Why not use your winnings from last night’s poker game to buy us some prime rib? Heck, I’ll buy the groceries if you’ll cook ‘em.”
“Nope. I’m happy to buy the food in exchange for a place to sleep.” With a few clicks of her mouse, she began typing. “There’s no need to buy steak for tonight. After all, liver and steak are both beef. There’s not much of a difference.”
“What?” He thrust out both hands, disturbed at the notion liver was anything like steak. “Are you insane? There’s a huge difference.”
“Shh.” She pointed a slender finger at her monitor. “I’m busy surfing for liver recipes right now. I’m having trouble concentrating with you yammering on and on about steak.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. Lord, she was adorable. “Instead of surfing for recipes, shouldn’t you be building my father’s online store?”
Hesitating, she hovered her fingers above the keyboard. “Oh, so now you want me to build a website?”
“Only if it’ll keep you out of the liver aisle.” Damn, he loved sparring with her.
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Does everything revolve around your stomach?”
“Working makes me hungry.”
“Too bad you don’t find an online store appetizing.” She tilted her head, her brown eyes seeking his. “Then again, you haven’t had a chance to see what I’ve designed. Want to take a look?”
The thought of being any part of the website made him nauseous. The last thing he wanted to do was participate in his father’s quest to lock Blake Glassware in stemware for the next twenty years. “Count me out.”
She pointed the laptop’s screen his way. “Could I get your feedback on what I’ve done so far?”
“No.” The word came out sharp as broken glass.
Jaye bit her bottom lip and repositioned the laptop. Folding her hands in her lap, she met his gaze. “Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
The humor vanished from her eyes. Regret swam into his gut, intensifying the sick feeling welling inside. Bracing one fist against the doorframe, he shook his head. “Talking about anything else would be pointless.”
“Guess so.”
He pushed away from her doorway and strode toward the lobby.
“Mitch, have you got a minute?” Veronica hustled out of her office. “I just got a call from the electric company. We’re past due on our bill. They’ll turn off the power if payment doesn’t arrive soon. Normally, I’d put this problem in your father’s hands but he’s out of town to visit a couple of merchants. He won’t be back until Saturday.”
Dread pounded in the center of his chest. “Dad paid the bills on Monday night while I watched the boys. The electric company should’ve gotten our check by now.”
“They haven’t, and they’re not too happy about the delay.”
Mitch cast a longing look toward the studio and knew he couldn’t return until this problem was solved. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix this.”
Veronica blew out a relieved sigh. “Thanks. I knew you would.”
Convinced the electric company screwed up, Mitch turned and walked into his father’s office. An alarming number of unopened envelopes lay scattered on the desk.
Propelled by a surge of apprehension, he unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out the checkbook. According to the register, his father hadn’t written a check for the past two months.
“Dammit, Dad. What were you doing two nights ago when you were supposed to be paying the bills?”
Face to face with the familiar ghost of betrayal, Mitch sat at the desk and jostled the mouse to wake up the computer. He attempted to log into the accounting software six times. Bracing his elbows on the desk, he cradled his aching head in his hands and muttered a curse.
His father had locked him out of the system.
“I need you, Jaye.”
Those four words lapped into her office like high tide, pulling out any residual anger with the sweeping pull of a powerful undertow.
Mitch wore the dazed expression of someone who’d just uncovered a lie. She recognized the look. For a while, she’d seen the same hollow incredulity every time she looked in the mirror. Tamping down a sharp stab of fear, she gripped her hands in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get into our accounting software.” A grimace of anguish crossed his troubled features. “My father changed the password.”
Her mind raced to come up any explanation for the oversight. “Maybe he just forgot to tell you. Have you called him?”
“I can’t.” He braced his hands on her desk and lowered his voice. “If Dad doesn’t want me to look at our financials, I need to know what the hell is going on before I confront him.”
Pain flashed across his eyes, distinct and brittle. A rush of compassion washed through her. “Are you sure you typed in the right password?”
“Yes. Nothing works.” He leaned toward her. “If you can help me, I might figure out the new one.”
She twisted her watch’s wristband. “I can’t help you break into Nick’s financial software.”
“It’s my software, too. I’m his damned partner.” He bent his head, glaring at the scrape on her desk. “The electric company just called. They’ll turn off the power if I can’t figure out why the bill wasn’t paid. The kiln has to run all the time. We’ll fall way behind if the studio shuts down, even for one day.”
Now that the end of October was upon them, this was crunch time for the upcoming holiday season. Jaye sensed this was when Blake Glassware made most of
