“That woman I spoke to, Greene’s girlfriend, she was asking about catering for their wedding. I told her you’d call her back.”
“What? Oh Christ.” There were so many unpleasant scenarios that Terri couldn’t get a handle on them. “Why on earth would she wantusto cater for a wedding in London?”
“Because apparently the soon-to-be Mrs. Greene is one of our own, so the wedding will be taking place in her old stomping ground.”
“Here in Dublin? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Oh man.” Terri broke out in a cold sweat. Surely Ethan wouldn’t want them to cater for his wedding though? She looked at Justin. “You’re right. I know I was wrong to take matters into my own hands,” she admitted, shamefaced. “But it’s done now. Gary was never going to own up, and I just couldn’t stand by and watch Rachel get sucked in by his lies. He’s an ass, Justin. We both know that.”
“Hmm, ass or not, it looks like you’ve landed us all in the middle of it now,” Justin said solemnly. “Because if that girl rocks up here wearing Rachel’s precious ring, there’s gonna be one hell of a shitstorm.”
Chapter 48
Rachel was looking through Gary’s credit card statement for January. Having puzzled for a while about the best way to get her hands on it, she quickly realized that a perfectly good excuse was staring her right in the face.
They were in the process of setting up a joint account for the wedding expenses, and the bank had requested ID documentation and proof of address for them both.
“Bank statements, utility bills, passport copy, you know yourself,” she reminded him.
“Well, I can get you a bank statement, but I’m not sure about the utility bill,” he’d replied reluctantly. “Out of sight, out of mind.”
“What about a credit card bill, then? I’m sure that would also do as proof of address,” she said, trying to make her voice sound casual, but luckily he didn’t notice anything untoward.
Now in the privacy of her living room, Rachel took the opportunity to look through the Visa bill for the insurance charge Justin had mentioned.
If it was there, then she would tell Gary straight out that she had lost the ring. If it wasn’t…well, then Rachel didn’t know what she’d do.
She ran her gaze through a list of the most recent transactions, easily pinpointing the U.S. dollar purchases. One from Saks, a couple from Bergdorf Goodman, and ah…there it was: Tiffany & Co.
Rachel looked across the page to check the corresponding charge and blinked.
How could that be? She frowned and looked again at the figure, perplexed. Not that it mattered, but she didn’t think it was actually possible to spend so little in the store, unless it was for a souvenir or some such.
Then, recalling her own recent conversation at Tiffany’s about the deposit, it hit her. Of course, he had probably ordered and paid for the ring in advance, so perhaps the transaction she was looking at was the balance remaining, or even a gift wrap service?
But assuming that he’d paid for it in increments with the credit card, did that mean the insurance might still cover it?
She flicked through the pages, but to her dismay, there was no mention of the purchase protection insurance Justin had mentioned.
Rachel gulped and looked again at her bare ring finger. It was now weeks since she’d last seen it, and having searched every nook and cranny she could think of (not to mention avoiding Gary’s questions), it seemed unlikely it was going to turn up at this stage.
She sighed. There was nothing else for it; she had to bite the bullet and confess that the ring had disappeared.
She bit her lip.
Whether the admission caused her fiancé to disappear too remained to be seen.
***
Daisy had a dilemma. There was something very important she needed to talk to her dad about, but she didn’t think she could do it now.
Although she was pleased that he’d gotten the ring back, the truth was she’d been very concerned since.
Why didn’t it fit Vanessa, particularly when it was made especially for her?
“I’m sure they just made a mistake with the sizing,” her dad had said when he and Daisy spoke about it afterward and he’d explained how another nice woman in Dublin had helped him get it back. “Anyway, what does it matter? All that matters is we’ve got it back and we’ve done what we set out to do.”
