“They’re just light red rubies, right?
“Those aren’t rubies at all. They’re sapphire, a very rare sapphire. This prong setting for the diamond had to take at least three months to perfect. I’ve never seen one done like this before. Of course, the diamond itself is beyond incredible. Then look here, on the inside of the band.”
I held the ring to the light and squinted. “Love lives here” was etched in cursive. I never even thought to look there. Sean had told me over and over how he designed it to be special, but I thought four carats and “rubies” were special enough.
“I don’t want to keep it,” I set the ring down. “I’m sure.”
“Okay well, I’m sure I can make an exception to our return policy for you. I can offer you three and half million dollars.”
I felt my eyes widen and followed him into the back office.
“Mr. Scofield told me to give this to you,” he handed me an envelope.
“He knows I’m here?”
“No. He’s been expecting you to return the ring, Miss Carter. Told us all to keep a heads up and to give you a fair price for it. He didn’t tell us anything about the ring itself though.”
“Oh,” I stuffed the envelope into my purse. I sat on a sofa as he typed numbers into a computer and asked me questions.
As he typed, memories of Sean flooded my brain. I could see everything clearly, as if the scenes were playing right in front of me: How I picked Belazi’s wall color, convinced him to go for a rustic brown instead of an antique green. How we had sex on top of the jewelry cases before opening day. How he always let me see his newest creations weeks before revealing them to his staff.
“It’s been deposited into your account, Miss Carter.” Taylor smiled. “But it won’t be accessible for the next seven business days. I’ll need you to sign this receipt of return.”
“Thank you Taylor,” I quickly signed the paper and left Belazi for what I hoped would be the last time.
“I’ll let the realtor know when she can pick up the check,” Sophie handed me my suitcase. “And I’ll be sure to document its release.”
“You know you don’t have to do anything for me. I’m technically not your boss for the next five weeks.”
She smiled. “I know, but I’ll do it anyway. I’ll send emails to your Gmail account regarding any updates. Do I have permission to move your things from Trump SoHo and use your signature stamp on the pre-purchase documents?”
“Of course.”
“Great. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
I nodded as she shut the door to my cab.
“Where to Miss?” the cab driver beamed.
“La Guardia airport please.”
“Right away,” he pulled off and looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Going anywhere exciting?”
“St. Barts.”
Chapter 10
Matt
“Matt! Matt! Baby?” Selena draped her arms around my shoulders and smiled. “What are you doing over here?”
Getting away from you.
“I just saw someone I knew and wanted to say hi,” I pulled her closer for a picture.
“Oh! Well, would you mind coming back over to the promo circle? I think we should get some shots of you smelling the fragrance with me.”
I let her go and followed her across the room. A part of me wanted to go after Melody Carter, but she seemed to be offended by something I said.
What the hell did I say?
Most of the launch party went by in a blur—I drank a glass of wine whenever a waiter brought me one, but taking fake “we’re in love” pictures with Selena seemed to go by in slow motion.
When I wasn’t by Selena’s side, Shelby was pushing me in front of microphones, telling me to give short impromptu interviews about upcoming projects. By the time the party was over, I was dozing off in Selena’s limousine.
“Matt! We’re back at your place,” Selena shook me awake. “Did you want me to come in with you tonight?”
“He doesn’t,” Joan unbuckled my seat belt and stepped out of the car. “He told me to say that if you asked.”
Selena and Joan scowled at one another as I took my time getting out.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks though,” I kissed Selena on her cheek and closed the door.
As soon as the car pulled off, I bent over and puked. Joan helped me to walk straight and stopped every few feet to let me vomit.
“I’ll have maintenance clean this up before morning sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir anymore, Joan. What have we known each other for? Three years?”
“Four years sir.”
“Stop with the sirssss,” I vomited on the steps. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I gotta ask you something Joan.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Selena and I…Well, I know you know what Selena and I are…Do you think we’ll last a long time? Do you think one day I’ll wake up and like her again? Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”
“Sir, I—”
“We’re off the record, Joan. Don’t call me sir. Call me Matt.”
“Well Matt, with all due respect, you don’t pay me enough for psychiatric analyses. And even if you did, neither of us would be alive long enough to go through everything that’s wrong with your situation.”