The lady behind the counter reached out for Crystal’s hand with an encouraging smile. She brought out a set of hoops and measured her up.
“You’ve small fingers, that’s a lucky thing. Most rings don’t come in the larger sizes. You have to send them off and then hope it comes out right,” she explained, before producing a size four copy of the one I’d indicated.
“This is a Sapphire; it is an imitation of the one—”
“Princess Diana wore,” Crystal finished for her.
“Really? It’s an imitation, though. Do you have a real one?”
Crystal snorted and the lady behind the counter patiently stared, “I do not. The– ‘real one,’ as you say was valued between thirty and forty thousand dollars, if I recall the papers of the time. It was remarkable indeed. The difference is not one of authenticity, but rather carats. The ring you refer to was… And do not quote me, I’m no jewel historian… It was a twelve-carat Sapphire, surrounded with–” She tutted, bunched her lips, and twitched them from side to side before shaking her head. “It had to be over a dozen diamonds.”
“What is this one?” Crystal asked before admitting with a quiet laugh, “I really don’t know how to tell the difference in any of that.”
“Most people don’t,” the lady assured. “The difference is, this sapphire is two carats with a diamond halo, and the band it is set in is white gold.”
“That’s too much,” Crystal whispered, but I saw the way she stole another peek at her finger with that big, blue rock on it.
“Bullshit,” I scoffed, taking her hand before the woman could slide the ring off her finger. I pinned Crystal’s sundress on her hip with the other hand, keeping her from moving along. “She’ll have it. That's the one.”
“Perfect.” The saleslady smiled.
By the time we left the woman talked me into a thin V-shaped wedding band to rest beneath it. Crystal protested, but the smile that remained on her face until we made it to the food court was worth every cent.
She kept peeking at her hand while I ordered our drinks and those buttery pretzel nuggets she’d been on about. It’d probably sound stupid, if I tried to tell Easy or the guys about it, but walking around that mall with my hand in hers felt so normal and so fucking right.
I’m not sure I ever felt that way about anyone before. At least not since the explosion that took my parents.
I always made fun of people who walked laps in the mall. Who does that? Just out here making circles for no goddamn reason?
Me, with her fingers locked in mine, that’s who.
And the sad truth is, I’d have made laps ‘til the sun came up if she kept on talking at me and making me feel like there was nowhere else I’d ever belonged.
It was bizarre. I was a man chicks had to run circles around to keep tabs on. I squirreled so hard when they started talkingabout relationships that next to nobody could lock it down, and most left insulted.
But for her?
I’d bought an engagement ring on our second date.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Red and Blue
Crystal
I didn’t realize how much time had passed until we walked out of the mall and it was dark already.
“Back to the house?” he asked, when we reached the bike.
It was a slap back to reality that I wasn’t ready for. It must have shown in the heavy breath I took, because he laughed and pawed the side of my face. “Peoria then?”
I snorted and shook my head, “We can’t run off to your suite every time we see each other. You already spent too much money on me.”
I glanced down at the ring again. The price he paid still made me shaky inside. I was walking around with three rent payments on my hand. I knew it was the right size, but still, I was afraid it would slide off or, somehow, get ruined.
He patiently stared into my eyes like he’d wait forever on me to make up my mind about our direction.
“You don’t know anywhere closer?”
