“How kind of you…”
“Are you staying at the Trump SoHo?”
“Why? Do you have the urge to throw Skittles into my room?”
“Are you always this uptight?” he looked into my eyes.
“Are you always this annoying?”
“Annoying? How? By offering to get you a drink and making conversation?”
“By getting in my way of leaving.”
We stared at each other, just as we had earlier. I felt my heart skip a beat and couldn’t get my mouth to say another word. His smoldering eyes were burning into mine and I couldn’t look away.
“I’m sorry for the Skittles stunt the other day,” he suddenly looked sincere. “And the folders too.”
“It’s okay. Celebrities rule the world, I just live in it.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“What?”
“Can I make it up to you? Like, can I take you out for cranberry juice sometime?”
Say yes! Say yes!
“No,” I looked down at the floor. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“My apologies. Are you seeing someone?”
“Even though that’s none of your business, you’re the one that’s engaged Matt. I don’t think Selena Ross would approve.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just engaged. I’m not really married.”
Not really married? Not really married! Is that what Sean was thinking? Is that how he justified cheating on me? “Just engaged. Not really married.”
I handed him my glass. “Have a great evening, Mr. Sterling.”
I practically ran out of the ballroom, stifling sobs. Mr. Maxwell was right. I needed to get away.
On Sunday, the realtor showed me properties on the Upper West Side—large scale condos with walls of windows and high vaulted ceilings. Each one came with a fantastic view of the city and each one cost at least one million dollars, one million dollars that I didn’t have.
On Seventh Avenue, she led me to a top floor apartment and was kind enough to ignore my sporadic tears.
I could never afford any of this…unless I returned my engagement ring...
“Over here is the master bedroom,” she ushered me into an immense room with hardwood floors. “The French doors to the master bath were hand-carved, as were the bookshelves on the east wall.”
“Is that a balcony?” I walked over to the wall of windows.
“Yes,” she took out a key and unlocked a door. “It seats about ten people. However, this is the only unit in this building with this particular type of balcony.”
“How much is this one?”
“This one is over the price range you gave me. It’s about two million before HOA fees and taxes. We could try to get the price down a bit, but since they added that lake-inspired spa I’m not sure if—”
“Where’s the spa?”
“Right this way,” she led me through a long white corridor and down a short flight of steps. She hit a series of buttons and clapped her hands.
“Wow,” was all I could say as the room began to glow.
Dark brown flagstone and reed grass surrounded a large oval pool. Small waves rippled across the pool’s surface and a small cascade waterfall emitted a soft shushing sound. A Jacuzzi stood in the corner, softly hissing and foaming.
The glass walls that encased the room depicted a variety of trees—pine, maple, elm, and hickory—and a small hearth provided the room’s warmth.
There was a sauna to my right, built with a combination of slate and travertine tiles.
“You can change the temperature of the room as well as the pool by voice control or remote,” she said. “There’s also an antique tub behind the glass walls. It’s accessible by remote too.”
I took off my shoe and dipped my toe into the pool, causing a soft yellow light to appear on its surface.
“Ah yes,” she fidgeted with the remote. “The pool has a motion sensor. It can light in yellow, orange, red, or white.”
I removed my toe and smiled. “I’ll take this one.”
“Are you sure? I have three more properties in your price range that you might be interested in. Their spas are significantly smaller but—”
“I’m sure,” I put my shoe back on. “How long will it take to get through closing?”
“Well, that all depends. Are we offering them under the asking price or are we—”
“The full asking price.”
“Well, I’ll file the paperwork this afternoon and I’ll be in touch with you by the end of the day.”
Hoping that Sean was still predictable and didn’t work on Sundays, I walked into Belazi with my engagement ring safely tucked in my purse.
A salesman opened the door and tilted his head to the side. I remembered him, Taylor. He was the first employee Sean hired.
“Hello. My name’s Melody Carter and I would like to return a ring. It wasn’t worn that long…”
“Nice to meet you,” he smiled. He knew exactly who I was, and was too respectful to mention the fact.
I handed him the ring and he inspected it underneath a lit mirror for several minutes.
He took off his glasses. “You sure you don’t want to keep it? It’s a very intricate ring.”
“Intricate? It’s a four carat diamond with rubies.”
“No, it’s more than that. Look here,” he beckoned me over to the light. “Look at what’s in between the rubies. Do you see those small pink stones?”