During the short drive to the factory, Mitch didn’t say a word.
Jaye ignored the sad ache inside her chest and held the reassuring weight of her camera. By the time they pulled into parking lot, she’d already thought of numerous pictures she wanted to capture. She headed into the meadow and the thick quilt of snow muffled the single-minded scrape of Mitch’s plow against the pavement. The moment she peered through her camera’s viewfinder and depressed the shutter, she felt better.
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
