Of coursethe necklace he wanted to wear at the photoshoot had been a casualty of what’s-his-name.
River was still grumbling about it when he got into the car with Amanda, fresh from his shower and fed on one of her super smoothie breakfasts.
She clocked his mood and nudged his elbow. “We’re a little ahead of schedule. We can hit that funky pawn shop you like and pick up something new on the way, if you’re quick.”
In his entire forty years of existence, River had never made it out of a pawn shop quickly by anyone’s definition, unless this was back in his juvenile delinquent days when he had to skedaddle before the owners noticed his sticky fingers. He shot Amanda a suspicious look. “You’re buttering me up for something, aren’t you?”
She blinked guilelessly. “Would I do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“You might as well enjoy it, then. Come on, let’s go pick out something shiny.”
River had loved secondhand stores since he was a kid, probably the upshot of an austere upbringing in a minimalist cult. The detritus of other people’s lives fascinated him, but pawn shops were another level. He’d picked up his first guitar at one in Tulsa, found his favorite pair of earrings in Phoenix. And Amanda directed the driver to stop outside River’s very favorite store, which had the glitteriest, gaudiest, chunkiest collection of gold and platinum jewelry River’s little magpie heart had ever seen.
“Honey, I’m home!” he crooned as he entered, pushing the door wide. Amanda followed in his wake like a dutiful duckling.
Behind the register, Gary, the shop owner, perked up with a smile. “Well if it isn’t my favorite customer.”
River blew him a kiss. “Got your keys, babydoll? I’m in the mood to sparkle today.”
Gary snapped his fingers. “I have just the thing.”
He always knew what to say to lift River’s spirits. And lighten his wallet, but River didn’t mind.
“Right to the good stuff, please, Gary,” Amanda said. “He’s on a schedule.”
Gary gasped theatrically. “Miss Amanda, are you telling me that the world does not revolve around River Wild?”
“Shhhh,” River hushed him. “Less talking, more shiny things. Chop, chop.”
The jewelry case was jammed full of trinkets, each polished to a perfect eye-searing finish. River let his fingers wander over the offerings, stopping to feel the heft of the bulky chains or turn gemstones so they caught the light. He should’ve gotten a manicure before this photoshoot, he reflected. Playing guitar always chipped his polish. Oh well. Someone could call in a tech while he was sitting for hair and makeup.
“This is what I had in mind.” Gary pulled a velvet case from beneath the display and opened it. “Saved it just for you.”
The heavy gold chain would sit low on River’s neck. Five large ruby pendants hung evenly spaced along the flat-woven length. River could practically feel the decadent weight of it over his collar bones. He shivered in delight. “You have outdone yourself,” he purred as he pulled his hair to one side. “Amanda, love, do the honors?”
One look in Gary’s little jewelry mirror sealed the deal. River had always looked good in red—something about his sharp cheekbones, elfin chin, and dark eyes lent itself to the colorpeople used for warning signs. It was tremendously convenient for his image.
River handed the necklace to Amanda to repackage and leaned back over the countertop.
“River—”
“Yes, I know, Amanda, but I wasso good. I picked somethingso fast.” He turned his most pleading, pathetic expression on her. “I deserve a reward.”
“You deserve a spanking,” Amanda said sweetly, “but I suspect you’d enjoy it.”
He fluttered his eyelashes.
“Five minutes,” she warned.
“Let’s do rings, then,” River told Gary. “One minute per finger.” Only on his right hand; he didn’t like wearing them on the left. He felt like they got in the way.
Truthfully, looking at rings in pawn shops could be a downer. Engagement rings and wedding bands dominated the tray. River was a musician; he firmly felt you had to believe in love in order to make good music. You didn’t have to feel it for yourself, you just had to be able to see it in others, in the universe around you. River didn’t think the world had a soul mate in store for him, but he didn’t like seeing evidence that it hadn’t worked out for other people either. Pretty, sparkly dreams discarded in a sad pile of other pretty, sparkly dreams.
He tried not to look at the engagement rings. Gary even kept them on a separate tray. But River was part magpie after all, so sometimes he caught himself mooning. Today a little diamond solitaire number caught his eye, a pretty marquise cut in a white gold band. It wasn’t River’s taste at all—too understated. Delicate. In a city full of moguls and movie stars, someone had chosen this ring. They’d put thought into it, probably spent more on it than they could afford. Riverimagined the woman who might’ve worn it—someone like Amanda, maybe, straightforward, uncomplicated, and warm. Unpretentious. Someone who loved the ring because of who it came from.
He had a fleeting impulse to buy it, as though that would fix anything in his own love life. Which was obviously stupid, because if the ring was here, its previous owners probably had not lived happily ever after.
