Standing His Ground: Greer (Porter Brothers Trilogy 2)
“You mind?”
The manager’s eyes narrowed on his. “No, go ahead. We certify our diamonds to very exacting standards.”
Greer didn’t become distracted, searching for the clarity. The loupe on the desk was a standard 10x magnification. His was stronger and had an achromatic, aplanatic lens. He would be able to see the tiniest inclusions that feathered out in the stone.
Standing up, he went back to the window, making sure it didn’t affect the appearance of the diamond. It also didn’t affect the stone itself.
Greer lowered the loupe, staring at the stunning beauty of a ring. It was the ring he wanted to see on her hand.
“I’ll give you fifteen.” Giving the low-ball offer, he returned to his seat, taking Holly’s hand and sliding the ring back on her finger.
“It’s twenty-two thousand. I may be able to come down slightly if you apply for a credit card—”
“No credit card. I have cash.”
“We don’t take checks.”
“It’s not a check in my back pocket; it’s green. I’ll give you sixteen. The diamond is yellow; how many women come into your store looking for yellow diamonds?”
The manager’s mouth started flapping like a fish without water. “Yellow diamonds are popular right now—”
“Not that popular in Jamestown. I bet my woman is the first woman to try that ring on. How long have you had it in the store?”
“It doesn’t matter. We have a branch in Lexington. If I can’t sell it here, I’ll send it there.”
“I’m willing to bet that they sent it here, hoping you could sucker someone into buying it.”
The manager on the other side of the desk took a thin calculator out of his suit pocket. “I can discount the ring to twenty thousand.”
“You want to stay in Jamestown forever? You sell that ring, that’ll make the store in Lexington take notice.”
He punched numbers in the calculator again. “Nineteen five. And that’s as low I can go.”
“I think sixteen five sounds better. We know the mark-up in jewelry. I’ll tell you what, you sell that ring for sixteen five, and I’ll make sure everyone buying jewelry in Treepoint comes here. I also have a friend who lives here in Jamestown who is always buying his wife a pretty piece of jewelry. I’ll make sure he shops here and mentions it to all his friends.”
“What’s your friend’s name. Maybe I already know him?”
“I don’t know his last name, but I’ll make sure when Stud comes by to introduce himself.”
“Stud?”
“He’s the president of the Destructor’s Motorcycle Club. You know him?”
The manager’s face went white. “I’ve heard of them.”
“Have you heard of The Last Riders, too? They have a club in Treepoint and a branch in Ohio.”
“I heard of them, too.”
“Me and Viper are best friend. He’s the president, and he’s always buying his wife jewelry. I’m his daughter’s godfather.” He kept his face impassive as the manager began to sweat. He held his out for the man to shake. “We got a deal?”
The unnerved man put his calculator back in his pocket before shaking his hand. “Let Cheira take the ring. She’ll clean it and put it in a box for you.”
“Holly will wear it. You can put the box in a bag.”
The manager watched at his assistant left with the ring, drawing a ticket book toward himself and scribbling the price of the ring on a ticket before handing it to him.
Greer pulled an envelope of cash out of his back pocket, letting the manager stare at it greedily as he counted out the hundred-dollar bills. He took out enough to pay for the ring, mentally calculating the tax. Closing the envelope, he shoved the remaining wad of cash back into his pocket.
When the manager excused himself, Greer leaned back in his seat, satisfied with the deal he had worked out. Whistling, he saw Holly staring at him.
“What?”
“You browbeat that poor man to give that ring for a lower price.”
“Damn right. He saw I wasn’t a sucker when I walked in through that door.”
“You’re no sucker. You’re a—”
“Careful. You might hurt my feelings again.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh, and Greer whistled louder then stopped when the saleswoman came in with the ring and the change from the sale. The manager obviously didn’t want to see his face again.
Taking the change, he thumbed through the bills, taking a fifty-dollar bill and handing it to the woman. “Buy yourself dinner from me. I appreciate your help.”
The flustered woman took the fifty, tucking it into her pocket. “Thank you.”
Taking the ring from her, Greer slid it on Holly’s finger. Turning her palm over, he then placed a kiss on it before pressing her fingers closed.
“What was that for?” Holly stared up at him, enraptured, as the saleswoman looked on approvingly.
“For agreeing to marry me.”
“You’re a lucky woman.” The salesclerk went all misty-eyed.
Greer grinned cockily, puffing his chest out. “Yes, she is.”