“Are you going?” The question came from my left. One of the other contestants, Number Sixteen, gave me a sideways look. “If you wait too long, all the best ones’ll be gone.”
I forced a smile I didn’t feel.
“I’m not worried. I’m sure there’s something for everybody.”
The lie tasted chalky on my tongue. I wasn’t worried about picking the biggest or the rarest ring. I was worried about what my choice would say about me. What would my choice tell Mr. Stonewood, and was I prepared for the consequences that might arise from it?
Henry’s gaze brushed over me from where he stood, his gray eyes unreadable. I squared my shoulders and stepped away from the safety of the chair.
The closer I got to the table, the more surreal it felt. Light from the tall windows caught on facet after facet, throwing little prismatic sparks across the white tablecloth. The women clustered around the flashiest pieces, cooing and comparing.
I slipped around them, drifting toward the far end of the table where it was quieter. The rings over here were no less beautiful,but they were… simpler. Less like billboards, and more like secrets.
My hand hovered over one with a square-cut diamond in a delicate halo setting. Another with an oval gem the color of ocean water. They were stunning. They also didn’t feel like me.
My gaze snagged on something tucked between two velvet ring stands.
It was small, modest, and easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
A slim silver band cradled a single green stone, oval and just big enough to catch the light. Not emerald, not really. The color was a shade off, a little too bright, like costume jewelry. It should’ve looked cheap next to the others.
It didn’t. It looked like it had been well-loved by someone, for many years.
My fingertips tingled. I reached out before I could talk myself out of it.
The band was cool against my skin when I picked it up. I turned it between my fingers, the stone winking softly. It didn’t scream wealth. It whispered something else… history and sentiment and something else I couldn’t quite define.
It felt like Granny’s old ‘costume jewelry from the fifties’ drawer, pieces she’d kept not because they were worth money, but because they were wrapped up in beautiful memories. First dates. Dancing in kitchens. A husband who’d adored her and thought she hung the moon.
“You sure about that one?”
The question came from behind me, laced with amusement. I turned to find Number Thirteen watching me with a perfectly sculpted brow raised. Her ring finger already sported something that could’ve paid off my car and probably half of Granny’s medical debt.
I lifted my chin.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
Her gaze flicked from the ring in my hand back to my face, like she was trying to figure out what that meant. After a second, she shrugged and drifted away, more interested in comparing stone size with someone else than in my weird, sentimental choice.
I exhaled slowly and slipped the ring into the little black velvet box sitting in front of its stand. My hands shook just enough that I hoped no one could see.
Henry’s voice rose again.
“Once you’ve chosen, please take your ring and step back to the carpet and wait.”
I did as instructed, retreating to the edge of the thick rug with my box cradled in both hands. One by one, the other women finished their selections and joined me. Some held their boxes like trophies while others clutched them like lifelines.
I wasn’t sure which one I looked like.
“All right, ladies.” Henry’s smile was polite, almost warm, but there was steel in his eyes. “You’ve made your choices. Now it’s time to see how they fit.”
The doors at the far end of the room opened.
A line of men entered, each guided into place by one of the staff. The ‘potential Bens’. They all looked like they’d been stamped from the same mold, all tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome in a catalog kind of way. All of them in domino masks and tailored suits, all of them carrying themselves like they’d practiced this in a mirror.
Except one.
My breath hitched.
