Tiffany & Company was one of Tess O’Neill’s very favorite places to shop.

From a professional standpoint, anyway. Personally, beyond the odd crystal paperweight or silver letter opener, Tess couldn’t afford anything the granite-faced branch store on Vine Street in Cincinnati had to offer. Breakfast at Tiffany’s wasn’t part of her current lifestyle. Neither was lunch today, for that matter. In late morning, she was already running behind in her schedule and, worse luck, as a personal shopper she was rapidly running into trouble.

Tess stared down at her third finger, left hand, as if she’d never seen it before. Like a proverbial bad penny, no, like Tess’s persistent memories of her ex-husband, her plain gold wedding band was still there. In almost twenty-five years, and even since the divorce, she hadn’t removed it.

“Take it off, Tess.” Meredith Walker, her assistant and the third person in the private viewing room, slanted her a wicked smile. “I mean, all off,” she said under her breath. “It’s not as if you’re still married, and you don’t get the chance every day to wear a fifty-thousand dollar diamond ring instead.”

Tess tugged again, but her ring didn’t budge. Stuck.

Still, she had real motivation to try again. As Marilyn Monroe had once crooned, “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” and the dazzling, round solitaire set in burnished platinum winked up at Tess from the dark velvet tray on the table. This might be her best chance to see that much polished carbon on her own hand. Tess had never owned anything like it.
Predictably, her mouth began to water. This was a good sign.

She concentrated harder on her client’s wish list—the reason she was here. In the past five years Tess had gradually turned her love of retail (okay, make that mania for shopping) into a career as everyone’s Go-To Girl. No reasonable request refused was her motto. You want it, we’ll find it.

People relied upon her to solve their buying problems, and she couldn’t disappoint Emery Shallowford. For his wedding anniversary the prominent local neurosurgeon wanted to surprise his wife of thirty years with a “significant gift.”

Wow, I’ll say. Tess gazed at the glittering stone, five carats in all. The brilliant cut flashed like the Aurora Borealis whenever the overhead light in the room shifted, which it was probably programmed to do for effect.

Through the half-open door to the main area she glimpsed several well-dressed women, most likely from affluent Indian Hill, one of whom, despite the spring day, was wearing a full-length sable coat. Tess figured if she owned a fur like that—PC or not—she’d wear it too. The scent of Chanel—perfume, not eau de cologne—drifted in her direction. She was definitely out of her element.

This private room done in tasteful taupe and cream with a thick carpet, and gold-trimmed paintings, a matching mirror (one-way glass?) on the walls all but shouted high-class, but Tess refused to feel intimidated.

Beside her at the table Merry glanced at the jeweler across from them who wore a classic black suit. “This piece is near-museum quality,” the other woman pointed out, which was okay. Emery was paying, Tess reminded herself.

She studied the other, equally expensive gems—blood diamonds?—in the display tray, but they didn’t interest her. Only this one did. She felt that familiar surge of euphoria that always gripped her when she discovered the absolutely perfect thing for a client, if not for herself.

“Darn,” she muttered, worrying the band Grady had slipped on her finger when Tess was nineteen. No engagement ring because he couldn’t afford one. The quick flash of memory, the intent look in his dark eyes when he met her gaze above this very band, the utter love in his expression then, the smell of candles and old books in the justice of the peace’s parlor, tightened her throat. Just in time she pulled herself back from one of her too-frequent fantasies of their bright beginning (nearly a quarter century ago), of what might have been, rather than the darker abyss at the end.

Yet like a needed reminder of her failed marriage, her wedding band still wouldn’t come off. She twisted one way, then the other, until her skin felt bruised and her cheeks grew hot.

Grady had probably played poker to win her ring in the first place. But had he won, really? In the end he’d lost Tess. Lost everything. And so had she. Something to remember every time she made another payment on her gargantuan Mastercard bill.

The jeweler looked concerned. “Is there a problem?”

“A small one…not to make a pun. My ring is a little snug.”

Tess tried to blame the weather for her growing discomfort—and her obviously swollen finger. The day outside the air-conditioned store had become much too warm for April. Or were her clothes making her sweat? Her russet-colored gaucho pants from Macy’s, boots from Payless, and cashmere sweater (Chinese, forty percent off at Dillard’s in the Tri-County Mall after Christmas) with a softness that had made Tess want to melt, still said winter. The fact that the sweater was a bargain had made the find all the sweeter.

The diamond, au contraire, as the elegant saleswoman had pointed out, wasn’t cheap by any means—but being a personal shopper had its perks. Somebody else gets to pay. It wouldn’t be her risk.

If she was lucky, and Emery Shallowford liked her choice of the ring, her fifteen percent commission on the sale would go straight into Tess’s house fund, bringing her that much closer to buying a place of her own again. Sooner, rather than later, she’d be able—at last—to afford a down payment. This time she wouldn’t be diverted from her goal; she wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed by one of her dad’s pleas for another loan he would never repay.

Tess glanced from the plain 14K gold band still on her finger to the sparkling diamond solitaire. I must have it—for Sybil Shallowford.

Then her gaze landed on Meredith’s naked ring finger and her face brightened. “Never mind me. You try the diamond.”

Merry blinked, her emerald-green eyes wide, obviously surprised that Tess was handing her the assignment. Tess had to bury her own shopping lust for the greater good they might accomplish. By hook or by crook—whatever that meant—they would succeed. Tess always had trouble with trite sayings, but never mind.

Right now time was of the essence. Spring was one of her busier seasons, Christmas being the most hectic. She and Merry already had a dozen weddings lined up with bridesmaids’ bracelets and groomsmen’s cufflinks yet to buy. Mentally she ticked off the rest, recalled from her Palm Pilot to-do list. Fifteen graduation gifts, even for a nursery school or two…

Fortunately, Merry got the message. Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her short, spiked red hair, plucked the solitaire from the velvet tray, and shoved it on her finger.

The jeweler hummed in approval. Finally. From various angles Merry and Tess admired the play of light through the stone. It twinkled and flashed in a full spectrum of colors that even outshone Merry’s outfit of the day, a pair of chartreuse satin pants and a purple empire-waisted top that to Tess looked like a maternity dress. So far Tess had had no luck upgrading her look, a necessary part of their business, but she smiled at Merry now. On the diamond, they agreed.

“This is the one,” they both said at once.

“No question,” Merry murmured. “Mrs. Shallowford should love it.”

Tess beamed. “What’s not to love?” She should have “borrowed” Merry’s hand sooner.

“Excellent.” The jeweler rose from her chair. She scooped up the velvet-lined tray from the dark wood table then held out a hand for Merry to return the chosen ring. “Once Dr. Shallowford approves, I think the appropriate gift wrap will be gray and white embossed paper with a silver ribbon—”

“And of course your signature blue box…” Tess murmured.

Merry gasped. “Tess, I can’t get it off!”

Her pulse stalled in alarm. “Of course you can. Give it a twist.”

“Let me help,” the jeweler said, setting the tray down without looking at it. She fumbled open the drawer in the wooden table then extracted—what? Soap? A can of WD-40? A pair of tin snips? Tess didn’t look to see. She steadied Merry’s wrist while Merry pulled at the ring.

“Your finger’s longer, Tess, more slender than mine,” she said, fretting. “This is the wrong size for me but I didn’t think…”

The jeweler twitched. “Ladies, please.”

“Ladies,” Tess muttered. “At my age that’s worse than being called ‘ma’am.’”

The next few moments were a blur of activity. Her perfectly made-up face flushed, the jeweler joined in. She squirted Merry’s fingers with some liquid, tried to spin the band and at the same time ease it off, but it held tight. In the end she summoned a manager who had his own bag of tricks for removing an expensive ring from a woman’s hand.

Tess barely saw what they were. Not only did the two people block her view of Merry, but Tess felt torn between her concern for the costly diamonds, Merry’s joints and bruised skin, and her own inclination to hoot with laughter at the very justice in the situation. How ironic. Merry had given her enough grief over Grady’s wedding band. Payback time appealed to Tess’s sense of the absurd and the little voice inside that wanted to shout, Gotcha. Not a very attractive quality, but there it was. Cheap entertainment. She was only human.

When they were finally out the curved double doors that resembled a bank vault and on the sidewalk, sans diamond, Tess gave a tension-relieving snort she could no longer suppress. The jeweler had promised to deliver the ring by courier to Emery Shallowford that afternoon for his approval. All’s well that ends well. Tess hoped.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Meredith warned her, stomping off toward the parking garage where they’d left Tess’s car. “You didn’t do any better.”

“That’s exactly what’s funny.”

“Ha-ha.” Meredith whirled around. “Know what I think about your ring?”

Tess groaned inwardly. She didn’t dare ask, but she could guess what was coming. Meredith hadn’t forgotten what started all this, and on that topic she could be relentless. Now she had even better motivation for the reminder.

“I think you still care for Grady.” Merry paused. “I mean, he’s a genuine hunk, I’ll give him that but—”

Tess cut her off. “He’s gorgeous, but he’s also a compulsive gambler. I should know. I’m still paying debt from our marriage, but I learned my lesson.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t think so. That ring of yours is a symbol,” Meredith insisted. “No wonder you can’t enjoy your ‘new life.’”

“I enjoy it. I’m fine by myself. Almost. It will take me another few years to become financially solvent again—thanks in part to Grady—and in the meantime I’m not looking for another man.”

“Well, you should be.”

Tess might have said the same about Merry’s current boyfriend, but she bit her tongue not to say so and hurt Merry’s feelings. For some reason she was crazy about Frank although in Tess’s opinion Merry gave too much without getting anything from him in return. “Once burned, twice shy. In my case you had to be there.”

Tess marched into the garage, her ignition key ready, as if to protect herself from some attack. If the ring was a symbol, all right, as Merry said, it had a sobering purpose. Tess didn’t intend to make the same mistake again.

Still, maybe the real question was: How to forget Grady?

© Leigh Riker    All Rights Reserved

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