“Yes.” I nudge him into a sitting position, stand, and hold my hand out to him.
“Where are we going?”
I pull him to his feet. “To buy rings.”
“Once you’ve made a decision, you really go for it, don’t you?”
“Is there a reason to wait?”
“No. Can we set a budget, though?” He winces.
“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
He releases his breath. “Thanks. Where are we going?”
“I know a place. Come on.”
* * *
We take the tube to Charing Cross and walk from there to Carnaby Street. Even though it’s getting late in the day, the street is still buzzing with people wanting to visit the plethora of independent stores, many of which are unique. I lead Quinn down a quieter side street to a tiny jewellery shop. The door is locked, so I ring the buzzer. A moment later, a man in an impeccable suit and with a neatly trimmed beard and moustache opens the door and greets us.
“Welcome. My name is Rupert. How can I help?”
“We’re looking for engagement rings,” I tell him.
“Of course, come in, come in.”
Once we’ve stepped inside, Rupert shuts and locks the door behind us. He leads us to a table and chairs and invites us to sit.
“We have a budget,” I inform him.
“Most people do.” He pushes a piece of paper and a pen towards us.
I write down the figure Quinn and I agreed on the way over here and pass it back to him.
“What are you looking for? Matching rings? Complimentary rings? Rings that suit your personalities?”
“Stefan probably wants a black ring,” Quinn says with a grin.
“No.”
Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Not entirely black anyway.” I hold Quinn’s hand and press it to my lips. “I want a ring that shows how you’ve brought light and love into my life.”
Quinn’s chin quivers. His head drops. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t speak. I look to Rupert.
He grins. “I can work with that.” He steps away and then stops, raising a pointed finger. “Tea? Coffee? Water? Champagne?”
“Water would be great, thanks.”
Rupert brings us glasses of iced water and then puts on white gloves and starts to look through his collection of rings. Before long, he comes and sits opposite us with two rings on a leather tray.
My breath escapes me as I stare at the rings. One is black, with thin silver bands on the outside edges. The other is the exact opposite.
“From our collection of his and his rings. They’re both made from titanium and carbon fibre,” Rupert says.
“His and his?” Quinn asks.
