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While she worked, she occasionally felt the weight of someone’s attention, but every time she looked around, no one was staring at her. She knew she wasn’t wrong. It was like being at a club and knowing a guy was checking her out. And since of the men in the immediate vicinity, two were on a date, that left Ezra.
But she didn’t have time to flirt. She was on a mission. She had to remain focused. At least the atmosphere lent itself to that.
She could see why someone would want to work like this, though. The noise and the heat and the rhythm—it was a lot like her place.
Back and forth to the gloryhole—who wouldn’t laugh at that? It had “porno” written all over it—she worked with her glass, red and blue. She’d decided that the paperweight was going to be a gift for Nikki. The woman didn’t need anything, so London knew she’d be hard to shop for. But this piece, with the hot red and cool blue, was like watching Nikki and Wade dance around each other. When they finally came together, they were perfection.
The more she played with the glass, pulling and twisting, the more enjoyment she was getting from the process. She wondered what it would be like to do this for a sculpture or drinkware. This might be a fun new hobby.
When all of the paperweights were in the annealer, Bronte thanked everyone for attending and let them know when they could pick up the final product. As the others perused the shelves of the small store, London hung behind. She needed a partner and short of finding another studio with lessons, Bronte was her best bet. Audrey had done more research on the family, and Bronte had been vocal about the money her father had lost to Benson and Towers. Audrey couldn’t tell if they were the reason his studio closed, but Bronte had written letters and spoken to reporters about the scam. London only hoped that the chance to get a chunk of cash would be enough to get her in.
She considered several pieces on the shelves. They were all beautiful and unique. Some were sturdy-looking sculptures and others delicate vases. Thinking of Ezra, she couldn’t imagine him choosing to create fragile items. Then again, maybe she had him pegged wrong. He, too, was an artist after all.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Bronte asked.
London glanced around. Everyone else was gone. “Hi, I’m London. First, thank you for the enlightening experience.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Second, I have a proposition.”
Bronte tilted her head and looked at her with suspicion in her eyes.
“I’m an artist. I work in various media, paint, clay, ceramics, and some metalwork. But I want to make a special gift for my mom. Would it be possible for me to rent some studio time?”
Bronte leaned against the counter that held the register and crossed her arms. “You’re not an experienced glassblower. It wouldn’t be safe.”
London held up her hands. “I have the basics down. But I wouldn’t expect you to give me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. I would need an extra pair of hands and I’d pay you for your time. Generously.”
Bronte rolled her lower lip in and bit down. “It’s not something that we do.”
“I’d be willing to come in when the place is closed. In fact, I’d prefer it that way. No distractions. This is a priority for me. It’s a special Christmas gift.” London rummaged in her bag for a piece of paper and pen. She did a quick sketch of the tree topper. “This is what I’m looking to make. I understand that as a novice, it might take me a few tries, and I’m willing to pay for the studio time.”
She slid the drawing over to Bronte. On another scrap of paper, she wrote a dollar amount and placed it on the counter.
Bronte was studying the drawing. “This will take some work, but I think it’s doable.” Then she glanced at the second piece of paper and her eyes bugged. She cleared her throat. “Well, then. I think we can work something out.”
London smiled. “Excellent. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can schedule some times to work.”
Bronte extended a hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
They shook and London left feeling very Mia-like, all sleek, and I’ve-got-more-money-than-I-know-what-to-do-with. She had little doubt that with Bronte’s help she’d be able to get the topper done on time.
When Ezra heardthe bell jingle again, he figured it was safe to move around without being bombarded with questions from a bunch of strangers.
He turned to start on another piece when Bronte came running in, a huge smile on her face, waving a scrap of paper at him.
“I told you this was a brilliant idea.”
“I’m glad you had fun teaching strangers the magic of making a paperweight. Still not interested in teaching it for you.” He turned back toward the furnace.
But Bronte stepped in front of him. “London, one of the women from tonight? She’s an artist. She wants to rent studio time to make a special Christmas gift.”
“No.” He sidestepped to get back to work.
Bronte held up a hand. “You have to listen.”
“No, I don’t. My shop isn’t for rent. I’m not a babysitter.”
