“Did she have a nose ring?”
Finally, he remembered. “That’s the one.”
“Oh, I vaguely remember her. You got engaged to her?” Why did he sound so incredulous? It must have been obvious that Bridget wasn’t Verity or Paula. That she was the one. David must have met her countless times. He would have known we were serious.
“No, but I would have asked her.” I hadn’t had a chance before I’d ended things after a stupid argument.
He chuckled. “Well Mum wouldn’t have been happy. You know how she hated nose rings.”
“But she liked Bridget?” I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. It was so hard to remember back then.
“God knows, Dexter. You went through women like most students go through pints of beer.” Why hadn’t Bridget stood out to him? “I don’t think any of us thought you were close to getting serious with someone, let alone married. You were young. Having fun. If Mum and Dad thought you were going to marry any of those girls from uni, they would have had something to say. And it wouldn’t have been good.”
I wanted to press him on what he remembered about Bridget, because it was clearly different from what I remembered, when I heard Hollie in the hallway.
“Yes, I’ll just get him,” she said as she came into the sitting room, her phone clamped to her ear. “It’s Primrose. Was trying to get you but you’re on the phone. It sounds urgent.”
It was getting late. What would Primrose have to speak to me about that wouldn’t wait until the morning?
“David, I’ve got to go, I’ve got Primrose on the other line. I’m sending a car for you tomorrow so I’ll see you at the venue.”
Hollie handed me her phone.
“Dexter, we have a problem,” Primrose said. “One of the pieces was dropped while we were packing up for transport to the venue.”
My jaw clenched and I tried to take a deep breath, steeling myself for more bad news.
“It’s the tiara. One of the emeralds came out and when they tried to force it back into the setting it . . . the stone cracked.”
I didn’t know where to start. I stood and strode to the kitchen to find my car keys. “Who the hell tried to replace it? Was it Frank?” I knew without asking it hadn’t been because he didn’t go around cracking emeralds. Whoever was stupid enough to drop the tiara was stupid enough to try to cover up the damage.
“Dexter, you know I’m not going to tell you. But it could be worse. It was one of the smaller stones.”
I didn’t give a shit if it was the smaller stones. A crack was a crack. I had to contain my anger and focus on what mattered, which was making sure that tiara was ready for the final round of judging tomorrow morning. The ceremony to announce the winner would happen later in the evening.
“Get Frank in. I’m on my way,” I said and hung up. I’d chosen every stone for every setting for this competition. We had some Zambian emeralds I’d sourced for the earrings until we’d chosen to go only with diamonds. I’d have to hope one of them worked for the tiara.
As I got to the doorway, I spun around to find Hollie running up behind me.
“You okay? What happened? Can I help?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “One of the stones in the tiara has cracked. I have to go and sort it out. I’ll be back later.”
She slid her hands up to my face and cupped my jaw. “Oh gosh, Dexter, I’m sorry. Is it fixable?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure the extent of the damage or which exact stone had cracked. I just needed to see it for myself and then figure out what to do.
“Shall I come with you?”
I shook my head. There was no point in neither of us getting any sleep. “I need to focus. I’ll call and tell you what’s happening, but you stay here.” I kissed her on the head and headed out.
Up until five minutes ago, Daniels & Co was perfectly positioned to win the competition and carry on the Daniels family legacy.
But no one would win with cracked stones and a broken tiara as the centerpiece to their entry—not even me.
Twenty-Seven
Hollie
Arms folded, I looked at the four dresses hanging in the closet. Should I even be worrying about what I was going to wear to the finals when Dexter was back at the office trying to salvage the tiara? It felt wrong, but at the same time, I knew Dexter would handle things. That’s what he did.
My phone buzzed and I slid it open, expecting it to be Dexter. But it was Autumn calling.
“Hey, lovely, how are you?”
No answer.
“Autumn?”
“Hey,” she replied in a small voice.