Fuckity fuck fuck.
I could throw up right here in the middle of this little shop in front of Stanley Tucci’s long-lost cousin.
I pulled one more time, before saying it out loud, my voice already shaking with tears. I couldn’t breathe. I was going to suffocate. Death by jewelry crisis.
My heart jackhammered in my chest. I could hear my blood pulsing as sweat gathered at the nape of my neck.
“It’s stuck.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Isaac
Teddy blinked. “Like just-bear-down stuck or emergency-roomstuck?”
Sunny’s eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed scarlet. When the jeweler and I turned to look at her, she hid both hands behind her back, like a kid who’d just been caught scribbling on the wall with a crayon. “I—um—”
I’d been keeping my distance, because being with Sunny around the mere existence of engagement rings was making me feel peculiar, but I stepped forward now, unable to see Sunny so terrified and not do something about it. Except before I could come any closer, she squeaked, “One second!” and ran into the bathroom.
The door slammed.
And then locked.
And then rattled, like someone was making sure the door was locked.
“Ahem,” the jeweler said. With an almost balletic elegance, he walked over to the bathroom door and tried the handle. When it wouldn’t turn, he spun to look at Teddy and me. “Ahem!”
From inside the bathroom came a crash, and then what sounded like a body hitting a wall. And then another crash.
“That ring,” the jeweler said, with frigid civility, “is worth twelve thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars.”
The sink started running from inside the bathroom, followed by a muffled moan.
He turned and rapped his knuckles against the door in a tattoo of impatience. “Open up! In the name of Elizabeth Taylor! Or I’m calling the police!”
I dug out my wallet and dropped the whole thing on the counter. Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness had clearly never rescued a roommate-formerly-with-bennies from an angry man in a bow tie. “I’ll buy every ring in this store if you just step away from the door and let me in there, okay?”
He did a half-pivot and regarded the wallet. And then he regarded me.
“Fine,” he said after a moment. He returned to the counter and added a taut “You have five minutes.”
“I need ten,” I said. And then my eyes dropped to the little Christmas display on the counter next to him. “And I need this,” I said, grabbing a small gift box tied with a narrow ribbon. It was empty, just a prop for the display, but it was what the moment called for.
The jeweler sputtered, but I was already at the door, knocking.
“Sunny? Can I come in?”
The water turned off and then there was a pause. “Isaac?”
“I’ve got a present for you,” I offered.
Another pause and then the lock clicked. The door opened a crack and I saw a single dark eye. “Really?”
I held up the box. The eye narrowed, but then the door opened just enough that I could slip inside. Sunny shut it behind me and locked it again.
I looked around the bathroom, at the overturned trash can with used paper towels spilling onto the floor and the sink full of soap suds. “It sounded like you were fighting John Wick in here.”
“His ring-removal methods are a little extreme for my tastes.” Sunny sniffled. “And it’s hopeless. I’ve tried soap, no soap, cold water, hot water, everything. Good lube might work, but unless we go all the way up to the mansion, the only good lube in town is going to be with Jack Hart, and I’d ratherdie.”
