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I Don’t Care How Much It Costs

Jack

 

Watching Cassie run out our door last night practically tore me in two. I knew I had to let her go, but it fucking killed me to stand there and watch it happen. I hoped Melissa would be able to talk some sense into her. Despite all of the torment and pain I’d caused in the past, I knew Melissa still believed that Cassie and I were meant to be together. I thought I could count on that much.

I convinced myself that Cassie just needed some time away. She’d see everything clearly in a few days, and she’d come back home to me. I knew that being in the public eye could be unbearable at times, but hopefully it was worth putting up with in order to be together.

Right?

I knew what I wanted. And what I wanted was to spend the rest of my life with Cassie. I’ve always known it, but having her leave like this only solidified the fact that I refused to live my life without her in it. I wanted her to know how serious I was about us. Nothing and no one would ever come between us again. I didn’t know shit about jewelry, but every guy knew about Tiffany’s. The ring Chrystle sported on her tiny finger had been her late grandmother’s, so all of this ring-shopping business was new to me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I hustled down the busy New York streets toward the shop six or so blocks away. I pulled my hat down low and donned sunglasses, hoping no one would recognize me and try to stop me for pictures. Two steps from the Tiffany’s store a voice shouted, “Jack Carter?” and my feet stopped moving. “Oh my God, are you Jack Carter?”

I looked up to see a teenage girl practically dancing off the sidewalk. “Hi.” I smiled, not wanting her to draw attention to me, or the store I was about to walk into.

“Can I get a picture with you? Please?” Her voice shook.

“Sure.” I leaned toward her as she tried to take a self-portrait of us. I grabbed the phone from her shaking hands. “Here, I’ll take it.” I reached out my arm as far as it would go before clicking the button on her phone.

“Thank you so much. Oh my God. I can’t wait to show my dad. And all my friends. They think you’re so hot,” she gushed.

“Just your friends think I’m hot?” I teased, hoping to ease the teen’s nerves.

She laughed, her face turning a bright shade of red before squeaking out, “Thanks again. Bye.”

I turned around, scanning the area for photographers and passed the Tiffany’s entrance just to be safe. When no one else approached me, I turned back around and hastily walked through the revolving door. Once inside, I wanted to puke. Talk about overwhelming. Glass cases lined the entire length of the store. Where the hell was I supposed to start?

“Hello, sir. May I help you find something?” A brunette stepped in front of me with a fake smile.

“Um.” I froze. “Engagement rings.”

Her fake smile deepened. “Right this way.”

She led me past a crowd of people hovering over something and directed me toward a display of cases. “All of our engagement rings are here. Let me find a specialist to help you.”



“Thanks,” was all I muttered in response.

I glanced down. No wonder girls loved this shit. Diamonds of all sizes and colors sparkled like the lights at the baseball stadium. Everything seemed so fancy and showy—neither of which was Kitten’s style. I continued to scan the flashy rings when a voice broke my concentration.

“Good afternoon. My name is Elizabeth. Sasha told me you were looking for engagement rings. Do you have a specific style in mind?”

Yeah. The kind that fits on her hand and makes her say yes when I propose.

“Um, no. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“How about we start with a price range. Do you have a certain amount you are looking to spend?” She smiled, her overly white teeth blinding me.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Her face lit up. Like seriously… Lit. The. Fuck. Up. Like I’d just told her she’d hit the jackpot.

“OK. So then, is there a certain shape she likes?”

“Honestly.” I paused. “Elizabeth, was it?” She nodded. “I have no idea what kind of shape she likes. I’d just like to get her a ring that fits her personality.”

“Alright then. Is there a shape you like? There’s round, cushion cut, princess.”

“I don’t know what any of that means other than round. Why don’t I just look at these, and I’ll tell you which ones I like.”

“Of course. You go right ahead.”

Holy hell, salespeople are annoying.

I wandered around the cases searching for the one ring that looked right. I passed by all the so-called “fancy” diamonds, assuming that Cassie would probably hate a big pink or yellow diamond on her finger.

I stopped at a case filled with more subtle pieces. They looked more classic, timeless even, and I liked the look. And then I noticed it. A round diamond surrounded on all sides by smaller diamonds. The band held diamonds as well.

“Elizabeth, can I see this ring please?” I looked up, searching for her.

She smiled again, rushing over. “Which one?”

“The round one right there with all the diamonds around it,” I said, pointing.

“Beautiful choice. Now this band comes with either a two-and-a-half-, three-, or four-carat diamond in the center.”

“You lost me,” I admitted.

“The size of the diamond. The center one for this band can accommodate any of the sizes I mentioned.”

I contemplated her words, but still had no idea what they meant. “Can I see the difference in sizes? I have no idea how big or small that is.”

“Of course, let’s go in the back.”

She led me toward a private office in the back, the ring I picked out coming with us in a small white paper bag. “Please sit.” she motioned to the black leather chair, and I sat down.

Elizabeth unfolded a black velvet ring holder and gently placed the diamond ring inside before unfolding another small envelope and pouring out three diamonds. She arranged them flawlessly on the velvet with her tweezers.

I sat back and admired them. “OK, I think she’d hate the four-carat one. That thing is enormous and would take up her entire hand.”

I released a long breath, wanting to choose the right ring at the right size. I pulled at my shirt to relieve the pressure that raced through me. “What size do you like best with that band?”

“Honestly I think the three carats is divine. And the band itself is gorgeous. They complement each other beautifully.”

I nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right. Let’s go with the three carats.”

“Great!” She smiled. “One more question. Do you want this particular diamond, or would you like me to look for a better one?”

“What do you think?”

“Honestly?” She placed a black contraption against her eye as she examined the diamond. “I think it’s a beautiful diamond. I don’t see any inclusions, scratches, or marks in it.”

“So it’s not a piece of crap, right?”

She laughed uncomfortably, clearly stunned by my language. “No, sir. Definitely not. We don’t carry any crap in our store.”

“Great. Then I’ll take it.”

 


Date: 2015-02-28; view: 743


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