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“Top left.”
When she opened the door, she chuckled. “She only uses the bottom shelf. That’s cute.”
“She’s short.”
London grabbed two glasses and filled them. Then she went to the stove and started making sandwiches.
“What’s so special about this tree topper?”
“It’s a gift.”
“But why this? You’re adamant about how it looks and getting it done before this party.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but since I don’t work in glass, I didn’t consider how I could do it. It was luck that I saw Bronte’s coupon for the class.” She spoke with her back to him, focused on bread and cheese.
He wanted to let his suspicions go, and enjoy the serendipity of this night, being stuck in a small apartment with a sexy woman who clearly wanted to fuck him.
But his self-preservation was on high alert. He’d learned plenty of lessons from his father, the key one being to be wary of who he trusted.
London staredat the buttery bread and melty cheese and tried to figure out how to steer Ezra away from his line of questioning. While she was good at talking to people and she excelled at avoidance, she was not a great liar. She flipped the sandwiches and thought about how to change the subject.
“Do you work in any other media? Or just glass?”
“Just glass. I prefer to be a master.”
“I get that, but sometimes the same thing all the time can get boring. Other times the idea I have in my head isn’t suited to paint.” She pulled the sandwiches off the pan and plated them. When she set the plate in front of Ezra, she added, “Plus, I like to keep learning.”
“I learn. If you want to be good, you need to not only keep your skills up but stay on top of advancements. I was in Seattle last month for Refract.”
“Refract?” She sat on the stool beside him and took a bite of her sandwich.
“It’s days of glassworks. Some studios do demonstrations. Then there are museum exhibits and tours. I go almost every year. Even if I don’t learn something new, I see what others in the field are doing.”
“So it’s like me hitting the art galleries in the city. Get a feel for what they do for shows, who they like to work with.”
“Exactly.” He took a bite of his sandwich and groaned. “That’s fucking good.”
“Thank you.” She finished her wine and refilled her glass, grateful that they’d gotten away from talking about the tree topper.
With any luck, a couple of days from now, she’d have the topper in her hand so she could work on the diamonds. And she wouldn’t have to worry about pretending with Ezra. They ate and drank. He told her some more about growing up around a studio. The love and admiration he had for his dad were so real. It made her both angry for him because he couldn’t use his dad’s shop and thrilled that she was playing a part in getting a little revenge on his behalf.
Once the food was done, she was at a loss, so she washed dishes. Ezra joined her and dried them.
“This is weird, huh?”
“What is?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
“This.” She waved a hand, sprinkling water between them.
He grunted, and she didn’t know if that was acknowledgment or disagreement, so she dropped it. She didn’t know where she was going with it anyway. But the tension was there.
She sighed, wiped the counter down, and refilled her wine glass again. The alcohol was hitting her system now, making her feel a little looser. “If you want to go to bed, you can. I’ll just keep myself busy until it looks safe to drive.”
“I’m fine, but you can have the bed if you want. I think I’ll watch some TV unless it’ll bother you.”
“TV sounds good. Got something in mind?” TV was neutral. They wouldn’t have to talk because the show would keep them occupied.
“I don’t watch much. Is there something you want?”
