Snake in the Glass by Sarah Atwell

of days. Please?”
    Now I was on the spot. He had undeniably changed the stone, but I had no idea what that meant—or what it might be worth. It was intriguing, but I had work to do, and he was annoying me. “Listen, Denis. I agree that it looks like you’re onto something, but you still owe me. You come back tomorrow with the balance of what you owe me so far, and we can talk.”
    Denis looked like he wanted to burst, but after a long pause he said, “Okay. I’ll be here in the morning. I promise. Oh, and keep this quiet, please?” He swept up his stones, then scurried out the back door like a man chased by demons.

Chapter 10
    Peridot is said to help the bearer to find happiness and to overcome anger and jealousy.
    Somehow I was not surprised to find Denis waiting yet again when I got downstairs on Thursday morning. Mutely he thrust more bills at me. “This should cover it. Can I work today?”
    “This morning, I guess. If you want to leave stuff in overnight, that’s okay.”
    He nodded, more to himself than to me. “Good, good. Longer seems to work better. I can do that.” Then he focused on me again. “Thank you, Em. I mean it. I’m close, I know it.”
    Yeah. Whatever. Still, I’d been paid. I let him into the studio, then went up to say good morning to Nessa. I handed her the wad of bills. “Count this, will you? He says we’re square. But I’m not sure I want him around once he’s used up his first twenty hours.”
    The day passed quickly, even without the usual browsers and buyers. I booted Denis out of the studio after lunch, made a few pieces myself, grabbed a bite, took care of the dogs, and worked some more. Finally I straightened up the studio and went around turning things off—the glory holes, the lights. It had been a good day, and things felt almost normal. Maybe I had finally licked the jet lag. I left the kiln on, since I assumed Denis wanted that. I took one last look around, then exited through the front, leaving on only the lowest of security lights in the shop. I made sure the door was locked, then went around the side of the building to the stairs.
    I almost jumped out of my skin when a figure materialized out of the dark, and it took me a moment to realize that it was a familiar one. Allison McBride.
    “Allison? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I tried to see her face in the dim light. Did I want to hug her or punch her?
    “Oh, Em—I was afraid you’d . . .” She took the decision away from me when she wrapped her arms around me and held on tight.
    I realized that I wasn’t really mad, so I hugged back. But I let go before she did. “Why don’t we take this inside? How long have you been back? Where’s your stuff?”
    She took the easy answer first, as I fumbled for my keys. “The plane got in a couple of hours ago, and I dropped my bags at my apartment. And then I came straight here.”
    I managed to get the door open, only to be swamped by the dogs, who were not in the least interested in me. They swarmed past me to greet Allison, who, to give her credit, knelt down and did right by them. I moved into the room and tossed my keys on the table, and looked up to see Frank standing in the middle of the room. Allison finally disentangled herself from the welcoming committee and followed me, then stopped dead at the sight of Frank.
    “Come give your uncle a hug, for all that it’s been no more than days since I’ve seen you.”
    Allison complied, but I noticed she glanced around the room and looked disappointed when she saw no one else. Aha. So she’d hoped to find Cam here.
    I gave the happy reunion another ten seconds, then said briskly, “Okay, Allison, are you hungry? The food on those flights is pathetic.”
    “I could do with something, if it’s no trouble,” she replied. “I hoped you’d still be up.”
    “And starving,” I said promptly. “How about you, Frank? You need anything?”
    “A beer if you’ve got it. Other than that, I’m good.