Page 46 of Blown

Rarely able to do, except when he was talking to Jake. Jake understood the fundamentals that made him tick more than anyone else. The last few weeks of having Jake there, working byhis side, had been some of the most enjoyable, not to mention the most productive, of his career.

All this time, he’d been aching to get some sort of an apprenticeship or residency with a world-renowned glass artist, but what if the real key to his success was standing in front of him, listening to the conversation with intense focus? What if he didn’t need to go outside of himself in order to gain the recognition he wanted in the art world? What if his happiness was standing right there in jeans and a garish t-shirt, frowning slightly and absently rubbing his arm as he watched the conversation?

Jake glanced up at him as he finished the explanation of how they’d created the ombre effect of opaque to transparent that differentiated the clouds from the land in their work. Rafe worried that he’d stopped speaking as his feelings about Jake got the better of him, but that didn’t seem to be an issue.

Something was off about Jake’s expression, though. He was miles more serious than Rafe thought he should be. Maybe it was the effort to keep silent when Rafe knew his impulse was to butt in with a thousand different, inane comments.

“I would like to see you work,” Hélène said, putting down the small bowl she’d been studying. “I would like to see this technique of yours in action. Can you show me?”

Rafe snapped his thoughts back to the moment. “It might take some setting up, but I’m sure I could show some of it to you.”

“Good,” Hélène said, clapping her hands together. She then made shooing motions and said, “Go, go! You too, Jake.”

Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. He glanced at Jake in a silent ask for help. Jake tore himself away from Hélène and the table with their work reluctantly. The fact that he was able to contain himself and not shoot off on some explanation of their work that put himself at the center of it all went along way toward the forgiveness Rafe was working on. In fact, Jake’s quietness as they set up everything they would need to demonstrate their techniques was more than enough for him to let the mistakes of the past go.

“I think she’s impressed,” he whispered as they donned their protective equipment and laid the right colors of frit out for gathering.

“She’s impressed, alright,” Jake said warily.

Rafe jerked as he reached for a blowpipe. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

Jake frowned. “I don’t know.”

Rafe had no idea what that was supposed to mean. His confidence and hope that things were about to get better started to desert him as quickly as it had come.

“Let’s just make a plate and show her what we’ve developed,” he said, disappointment that bordered on heartbreak in his voice.

Jake stood there staring at him for such a long time that Rafe was convinced he was going to say no. Something was wrong, but for the life of him, Rafe couldn’t figure out what.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to figure it out. Maybe Jake’s hesitation as Rafe turned to gather glass from the furnace was sulking because he wasn’t the center of attention. Maybe, as hard as he was trying, Jake would never be able to take a backseat and let someone else shine. As he brought the bit of glass out and took it to the marver to roll it, then stuck it back into the furnace to gather more glass, he worried that Jake would never be able to let go of his ego and his need to impress.

He was ready to forget the whole thing and make something else for Hélène by way of demonstration, but as he pulled his second gather out of the furnace, Jake was right there, ready with the tiny, colored glass rods that they needed to make thegrass effect inside the work. He didn’t seem happy to be working, though, which was completely unlike Jake.

“It’ll be alright,” Rafe tried encouraging him before he moved to the workbench so he could fashion a rondelle. “We’ve got this.”

Jake broke into a small, anxious smile, like he was trying, but something definitely wasn’t alright.

FIFTEEN

Everything felt wrong.Staying silent when everything in him screamed made Jake’s skin crawl. Being scrutinized by Hélène like he was back in his first glassblowing class and she was the toughest teacher at art school had the hair standing up on the back of his neck. And Rafe still hadn’t forgiven him for anything, not really.

“What are you doing now?” Hélène asked, moving to stand behind Rafe’s shoulder as he prepared for the next fold in the technique he and Jake had worked out.

“It’s to bring the illusion of movement to the sky,” Rafe explained. “Blocks,” he directed Jake.

Jake stepped in front of the work and applied the heavy wooden paddles they’d custom shaped to manipulate the molten glass just right and held them while Rafe turned the pipe to make the fold. It was an unconventional method, but that was the point.

“I see, I see,” Hélène said, moving to observe the whole process from Jake’s angle. “This is unique.”

Something was definitely off. The light of interest in Hélène’s eyes was a little too bright. The tension Jake felt from herewasn’t that of a top-level glass artist observing her inferiors. He could have chalked it up to intense interest and an artistic temperament. God only knew that enough people in the art world were completely bonkers, but this felt different.

“Show me again,” Hélène said with a no-nonsense nod when Rafe finally carried the finished plate to the annealer. “Something else. A bowl, perhaps? I want to see how you create a curved shape.”

“Certainly,” Rafe said, moving back to the furnace to prep for making the second piece.

Jake fought the conflicting urges that made his feet leaden and his stomach heavy as he joined Rafe by the furnace. There was a huge risk that anything he said would set Rafe off and make him think he was trying to butt in and steal his sunshine again. But he couldn’t deny his instinct that something was off.

“I’m not sure this is a great idea,” he murmured as he stood close to Rafe.

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