Kingdom Come
Twenty minutes passed—I’d been eyeing my watch—before they came from the back. My breath caught. Lizzy was a beautiful woman—that I’d never denied—but the dress she wore took it to another level. Lace clung to her curves, hiding everything from her neck to her hands, but managed to be sexy as hell. It ended at mid-thigh with a short flare, leaving her long legs bare. I grew hard at the sight.
“You like?” she asked.
I nodded because damn if I wasn’t tongue-tied.
“I’ll buy it,” she said to the woman, handing her a card.
“Go get the rest of your things,” I suggested, wanting to distract her.
When she left, I swapped cards with the woman. She grinned and rang up the purchase using mine. When she handed Lizzy her card, my girl wasn’t the wiser. The woman took the dress Lizzy had worn to work and put it in a garment bag, sending us off with Lizzy wearing her fake wedding dress and a big smile for the small fortune I’d spent.
I had my phone in my hand when she tugged me forward toward Roberto Cavalli. “Your turn.”
I made a beeline for a different store. “We should go here.”
Her eyes found the signage above the door. “Harry Winston.”
“We need rings,” I said, grinning because her smile was infectious.
She chortled. “They don’t have sales here, you know.”
“You never know.”
When we walked in, her glittering eyes focused on the jewelry cases in the middle of the room, and she headed in that direction. A salesman walked over.
I said, “Go with everything I say.”
He eyed my jeans and scuffed leather jacket. I pulled out my wallet and handed him my black card and his tune changed. He followed me to where Lizzy practically had her nose against the glass display.
“What are you looking for?” the man asked in an arrogant tone.
“That’s pretty,” Lizzy said, almost slurring. The bridal shop attendant had given Lizzy champagne I couldn’t pry from her hands. “But we can’t afford that. Something simple please.” When the guy waited for more information, she added, “Bands. Simple wedding bands.”
He nodded and went to work, waving us over to a desk with two chairs in front of it. We sat, and he took out a tray. Then he laid out a few sets of bands spaced out precisely as if invisible lines were there as a guide.
Lizzy sighed dreamily. “I like these.”
She pointed at what the sales guy called, “An infinity band. Excellent choice.”
Diamonds wrapped the band in an endless loop. Lizzy sighed while touching it, then she looked at a different set. “It’s too much. We’ll go for these.” The set was simple with no gems. She focused on me. “Are you sure you can afford this?”
“Yes.”
She waved me off. “I forgot. I’ll pay for this.”
“No,” I said.
“Yes. It’s tradition for the bride to pay—”
“For the groom’s ring,” I finished with a frown, and she nodded. “Fine. You can pay for mine and I yours. But we also need an engagement ring.”
“No, we don’t,” she pressed.
“It’s tradition,” I said, tossing tradition back at her.
She gave the sales guy a glare. “Keep it simple and small.”
The guy eyed a woman waiting off to the side. They traded knowing looks before she disappeared in back. She returned with a tray and removed the other after our salesman had removed the bands we’d chosen.
“This is the Classic Winston.” He went on to explain, “This ring embodies Harry Winston’s timeless elegance and signature style. It’s an exceptional engagement ring featuring a brilliant round center diamond flanked by two tapered baguette stones on a platinum band.”
“Sounds expensive,” she said as he slid it on her finger. “It fits.”
His smile was filled with pride. The man had nailed her ring size without even measuring it.
“We’ll take it,” I said.
“No way,” she said with her eyes glued to the sparkler on her finger. “It probably costs the same as some cars.”
“No. You’ve made our budget very clear. I’m sure this ring is on sale.” The guy winced but didn’t deny my statement after a stern look from me. “You have my card. Ring it up.”
I should have been sweating. I’d just bought rings for a fake wedding. When he returned with a folded invoice in an envelope, I saw Lizzy had been right. A small domestic car wouldn’t cost much more.
He handed me a nondescript black bag with HW embossed on one side. “The bands are in here. The box for the engagement ring is here too. Thank you, Mr.—”
I cut him off before he could say my name. “Thank you. Come, princess. We’re already late.”
“Don’t think you’re going to get out of getting a suit.”
I groaned as she dragged me into Roberto Cavalli. I gave a slice in front of my neck to the sales guy who’d been the one to deliver my suits the past week. He understood and choked off calling me by name.