“It would get caught everywhere. In everything.”
“A wife of mine would wear an expensive ring.” I set the ring back into the velvet and reach for a slightly smaller one. The entire band is covered in diamonds.
“A wife of yourswould wear a big ring?” Paige looks at me across the table. She’s not wearing a stitch of makeup. She looks annoyingly pretty, with a bad attitude and quick mouth. “Too bad I don’t like jewelry.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You don’t like jewelry.”
“No. I hate it, actually. It gives me a rash.” She blinks at me a few times. “So I don’t think I’ll wear an engagement ring.”
“You’re allergic to diamonds? Don’t worry. I can get you an emerald or a ruby. Do you want a sapphire? Want five?”
“None,” she says.
I walk around the table toward her. Her blue dress is loose, but a gust of warm wind holds it to her shape. “You wore a necklace to the courthouse.”
Her lips thin. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”
Maybe I shouldn’t. But it was a pendant, and it had fallen down between the valley of her breasts. There was a faint curve to them beneath the ivory of her dress.
“I remember everything,” I tell her.
She lifts up a simple gold band. “That seems inconvenient. Surely there’s a lot that’s not worth remembering.”
“I find my life pretty memorable. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same.”
She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re annoying.”
“Takes one to know one.”
She points at a platinum band with a modest solitaire diamond. I’m not sure why Patrick packed it. “That one, then.”
“You can’t wear thatone.”
Her eyes flash to mine. “And why not?”
“No one would believe my wife wears a ring that small. Not when I own the jewelry company.” I point to a ring beneath it. “That one, I can do. It’s one of a kind. I believe we sold its sister to one of the Monégasque princesses.”
Paige holds up the ring. It has a tear-drop diamond in the center, but it’s surrounded by a net of much smaller ones. It catches the light. Unique and understated.
“This one,” she says, “has to be worth a fortune. I’m not surprised you’d go for the flashy option.”
My mouth thins. “I’m not flashy.”
Her gaze slides to mine. “Have I found an adjective you don’t like? What, is that too nouveau riche?” Her smile widens. “You married new American money, you know.”
I run a hand through my hair.Calm lake.“Try it on. Patrick can resize it for you. Find a fitting wedding band, too.”
She looks at it a while longer. “No,” she says. “I think not.”
“If you think you’ll annoy me by taking your time, it won’t work.”
“I don’t believe you.” She looks at another tray and lifts up a ring with a medium-sized clear-cut sapphire. It has a few smaller diamonds nestled on either side. It’s a deeply traditional ring. Less common than the big diamonds that have become so synonymous with love.
“This is the color of the ocean,” she says. She slides it onto her finger and appraises it for a few seconds before stepping over to a row of gold wedding bands. “I saw the email. We’re announcing the acquisition tomorrow?”
“Yes. It’ll be out soon enough anyway. Better to control the narrative.”
She nods and lifts up a simple gold band. “I spent most of the morning talking to the Mather & Wilde team. We’re ready with a statement.”
