Ethan plopped a couple of dollars in the tip jar, and the two headed back out onto the street in the direction of 727 Fifth Avenue.
“Sir, hello.” The same elderly Tiffany’s assistant who’d sold them the ring greeted Ethan and Daisy effusively upon arrival. He smiled benevolently. “So how did the lucky lady like her Christmas surprise?”
“Well, perhaps there is a lucky lady somewhere who is enjoying it very much,” Ethan replied, his tone sounding edgier than he’d intended, and the man raised an eyebrow. Then Ethan sighed. “I’m sorry, but it seems there’s been some kind of mistake.”
“A mistake? Please, take a seat,” the assistant urged, looking concerned as he led them aside.
Ethan and Daisy both sat in front of one of the octagonal service areas while he tried his best to explain.
“I don’t know how this could have happened. When my fiancée…or should I say my intended fiancée…opened the box yesterday morning, there was just a charm bracelet inside.” His palms sweated even thinking about it. Ethan rubbed them on his jeans. “No ring, no diamond solitaire—just a silver charm bracelet.”
“Acharmbracelet?” the assistant repeated in bewilderment.
“Yes. I was thinking that maybe there was some kind of mix-up with the wrapping or that I’d been given the wrong bag.” This was the most likely scenario, yet the one Ethan half hoped wasn’t the case, because it meant that his purchase was surely in the possession of one very happy stranger.
“But this is unheard of,” the man blustered. “As it is, we sell only diamonds on this floor. Gift items are available on the ground level or up on three, the Silver Floor.” He looked thoughtful. “Just a moment. Let me call my supervisor.”
Ethan’s jaw began to work and his heart sped up afresh. This didn’t look good. And worse, he hadn’t even had the chance to insure it yet. “Of course, thank you.”
While the assistant made the call, Daisy rested a hand on his knee. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m sure everything will be fine,” she said, sounding anxious.
Ethan looked at her and immediately felt bad for having to drag her through all this rigmarole.
“I know, and I’m sorry for getting so flustered. Just…”
The next thing he knew, he and Daisy were being greeted very graciously by the Tiffany & Co. general manager and whisked away by him and a couple of other suits to take a look at the Christmas Eve security tape footage.
It seemed to Ethan, sitting there in the dim room, that there must be nearly as many security cameras as diamonds on the premises. Luckily, this meant they could watch his and Daisy’s visit to the store and their activity on the Diamond Floor from multiple angles, but disappointingly, nothing seemed untoward.
There was certainly no confusion with another purchase, and from what he himself could tell, definitely no mix-up.
He figured that the security guys were probably just as suspicious—if not more so—of him than he was of them, as no doubt it wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had tried to claim a missing item.
Yet the bottom line was that there was nothing at all revealed in the tapes. He and Daisy absolutely looked to have left the store with the diamond.
End of story.
His mouth dry with anxiety, Ethan thanked the manager and the security team for their assistance, and they in turn promised to offer any support and he should keep them apprised of any progress.
“Thanks, and likewise,” he said, shaking hands all around, while inwardly his blood pressure was spiraling so high he thought he might combust.
Back on the street outside, he was even more flustered.
“What now, Dad?” Daisy asked.
“I really don’t know,” he replied, racking his brain to try and come up with his next move. If there was no mix-up, no oversight in Tiffany’s, then what on earth could have happened?
They’d gone straight back to the hotel after being there, hadn’t they? Or had they stopped off somewhere else? Damn, he was almost certain he was forgetting something, but by now, his nerves were shredded and he couldn’t think straight.
“Do you think we could maybe get something to eat now?” Daisy piped up. “Sorry, but I’m really hungry.”
He looked at his watch—it was almost lunchtime, and they’d been in the store much longer than he’d anticipated. “Okay, I suppose we—”
A sudden screeching of tires in the background cut off the rest of his sentence.
“Of course!” he exclaimed then, looking in the direction of the offending car. The accident… Thathadto be it. He turned to her, eyes wide. “Remember that man who got hit by the cab, the one we helped on Christmas Eve? He had all those packages, remember?”
“Yes.” Daisy nodded.
