but the heat stayed with her.
“Chelsea applied for a job at the Rogue Valley Cheesery,” she said, pretending to be unaffected. “She also asked to be my assistant.”
“Are you going to hire her?”
“I can’t afford to. Besides, she isn’t really interested in making pottery. But I did hire her to work in my booth at the Arts Festival.”
Rafe nodded. “I see you’ve been working today.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and she groaned. “Let me guess. I have clay on my face again.”
“Right there.” He pointed at her cheek.
Good thing he didn’t touch her. Otherwise, she just might go up in flames. She wet her finger and then rubbed at the spot. “Gone?”
“Yeah.” Rafe had been watching closely, his expression impossible to read. “I’ve never been in a pottery studio before. Do you have time to show it to me?”
Jillian had no idea why he looked taken aback by his own question. He certainly surprised her. Aside from students and fellow potters, few guys had ever asked.
“You really want to see my studio?” she asked, pathetically excited to give him a tour. But also a little nervous. She really needed to get away from him and cool off. “I don’t allow pets in there. Animal hair tends to muck up my glazes.”
“As long as Calvin can hang out in the fenced area with Pooh, he’ll be fine.”
She would keep the tour short and professional, she assured herself while she and Rafe penned in the dogs. Then she’d send Rafe on his way. That should be harmless enough.
“Follow me,” said, beckoning him to join her.
Chapter Nine
‡
W hat was he doing, heading into Jillian’s studio? Rafe silently chided. Sure, he wanted to see her work space, but with his desire for her barely in check, this probably wasn’t a smart idea.
She shut the door behind them and gestured around. “This is where all the magic happens.”
The studio was bigger it looked from the outside, spacious even. Yet, at the same time, surprisingly cozy. Despite blinds pulled against the afternoon sun, a skylight overhead provided plenty of natural light over the clean concrete floor, the big, scarred table, and the faded sofa well past its prime. A pottery wheel sat off to one side, not far from a wall of cabinets and two of open shelves filled with pottery.
Rafe nodded at the Guff’s Lake Fire Department calendar hanging near a bulletin board, and the photo of Gus grinning. “Good to see you actually use that thing.”
For the first time since he’d brought JR home, she cracked a smile. “Hey, I consider it my civic duty to support your benefit fund. You can see why I renewed my lease on the cottage.”
“This is some studio.” He noted the bulging shelves. “You sure have a lot of pottery over there.”
“Most is for the upcoming Arts Festival. There are lots more, packed and waiting, in the cabinets. Those you see need to be kiln-fired a second time. As soon as I have room, I’ll create more.”
“How many pieces are you planning to make?”
“According to my inventory spreadsheet, I need at least double what I have.”
Rafe had never figured her for the spreadsheet type. “You keep a tally of your inventory?”
She nodded. “I also track orders and sales. If I want to stay on top of my business, I have to.”
He’d had no idea she was so organized and practical, or that she worked this hard. She wasn’t nearly as flaky as he’d thought.
On another wall, blocks of clay wrapped in plastic bags sat on a smaller group of shelves. “What’s all that?”
“My students’ supplies. This week, they learned the basics of working with clay. Next Monday, they throw their first pots.”
“That should be interesting.”
“And messy, and frustrating for some. Crafting a piece of pottery is harder than it looks. My plan is to have fun and hope everyone signs up for more advanced classes. Of course, I’ll also ask them to post comments on my website and spread the word to their friends and
“Chelsea applied for a job at the Rogue Valley Cheesery,” she said, pretending to be unaffected. “She also asked to be my assistant.”
“Are you going to hire her?”
“I can’t afford to. Besides, she isn’t really interested in making pottery. But I did hire her to work in my booth at the Arts Festival.”
Rafe nodded. “I see you’ve been working today.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and she groaned. “Let me guess. I have clay on my face again.”
“Right there.” He pointed at her cheek.
Good thing he didn’t touch her. Otherwise, she just might go up in flames. She wet her finger and then rubbed at the spot. “Gone?”
“Yeah.” Rafe had been watching closely, his expression impossible to read. “I’ve never been in a pottery studio before. Do you have time to show it to me?”
Jillian had no idea why he looked taken aback by his own question. He certainly surprised her. Aside from students and fellow potters, few guys had ever asked.
“You really want to see my studio?” she asked, pathetically excited to give him a tour. But also a little nervous. She really needed to get away from him and cool off. “I don’t allow pets in there. Animal hair tends to muck up my glazes.”
“As long as Calvin can hang out in the fenced area with Pooh, he’ll be fine.”
She would keep the tour short and professional, she assured herself while she and Rafe penned in the dogs. Then she’d send Rafe on his way. That should be harmless enough.
“Follow me,” said, beckoning him to join her.
Chapter Nine
‡
W hat was he doing, heading into Jillian’s studio? Rafe silently chided. Sure, he wanted to see her work space, but with his desire for her barely in check, this probably wasn’t a smart idea.
She shut the door behind them and gestured around. “This is where all the magic happens.”
The studio was bigger it looked from the outside, spacious even. Yet, at the same time, surprisingly cozy. Despite blinds pulled against the afternoon sun, a skylight overhead provided plenty of natural light over the clean concrete floor, the big, scarred table, and the faded sofa well past its prime. A pottery wheel sat off to one side, not far from a wall of cabinets and two of open shelves filled with pottery.
Rafe nodded at the Guff’s Lake Fire Department calendar hanging near a bulletin board, and the photo of Gus grinning. “Good to see you actually use that thing.”
For the first time since he’d brought JR home, she cracked a smile. “Hey, I consider it my civic duty to support your benefit fund. You can see why I renewed my lease on the cottage.”
“This is some studio.” He noted the bulging shelves. “You sure have a lot of pottery over there.”
“Most is for the upcoming Arts Festival. There are lots more, packed and waiting, in the cabinets. Those you see need to be kiln-fired a second time. As soon as I have room, I’ll create more.”
“How many pieces are you planning to make?”
“According to my inventory spreadsheet, I need at least double what I have.”
Rafe had never figured her for the spreadsheet type. “You keep a tally of your inventory?”
She nodded. “I also track orders and sales. If I want to stay on top of my business, I have to.”
He’d had no idea she was so organized and practical, or that she worked this hard. She wasn’t nearly as flaky as he’d thought.
On another wall, blocks of clay wrapped in plastic bags sat on a smaller group of shelves. “What’s all that?”
“My students’ supplies. This week, they learned the basics of working with clay. Next Monday, they throw their first pots.”
“That should be interesting.”
“And messy, and frustrating for some. Crafting a piece of pottery is harder than it looks. My plan is to have fun and hope everyone signs up for more advanced classes. Of course, I’ll also ask them to post comments on my website and spread the word to their friends and
Similar Books
