I took Bridgett’s hand again as she stepped out of the car and then escorted her across the street and up the sidewalk to one of the shops. I held out my hand to allow her to enter first.
“Evan, what are you doing?”
“Taking you shopping on the Magnificent Mile,” I informed her. “Once we’ve hit the highlights, we’ll have drinks at one of my favorite bars. It’s got a great view of Michigan Avenue.”
“You can’t be serious,” she said quietly. “You aren’t going to buy anything here. The dress I can understand for the place we had dinner, but …”
Her voice trailed off, and I just gave her a half smile as I grabbed her waist and shoved her through the revolving doors and into Tiffany and Co’s.
The thing I found most noticeable about the store was just how sparkly everything was. It was like walking into a place full of tiny little disco balls – there were rainbows everywhere. I thought that chick who wrote about the sparkly vampires must have gotten the idea by standing in the Tiffany’s store and staring at the diamonds.
I had a feeling Bridgett wasn’t going to just pick something out for herself, so I already had something in mind. I led her to the back where all the charms were kept.
“Mister Arden?” A tall, lean blonde walked around the counter and held out her hand.
“Hello,” I replied. I reached out and shook the salesperson’s hand. She smiled at Bridgett before leading us around to the back counter. She brought over a velvet box and opened it up as I watched Bridgett’s expression go from curiosity, to surprise, to bemusement.
“That’s a gold bean, isn’t it?” she asked.
“It is,” I said with a smile. “Rose gold with earrings to match.”
The salesperson held Bridgett’s hand and slipped the gold chain around her wrist. The bracelet included a rose gold bean as well as a traditional Tiffany’s padlock charm.
“Beautiful,” the salesperson said as she affixed the charm around Bridgett’s wrist. It jingled as she moved, and when she turned her wrist slightly, the charms sparkled in the store’s lights.
“Evan…” Bridgett’s voice evaporated again, and her eyes started to brim over with tears.
“Stop that,” I said quietly. I took my finger and placed it under her chin. “You deserve a night on the town after putting up with me for all that time when I was sick, and I’m going to make sure your night is perfect. This is just a little memento of the evening.”
“It’s hardly a little thing,” she argued. “This is…”
She glanced over at the salesperson, but she was now ringing up the bill and a bit out of earshot. Bridgett lowered her voice anyway.
“This is more than you would pay for me for a whole week,” she said.
“So?”
I ignored her remaining protests, took her by the hand, and led her back out onto the street. We stopped at a few more stores but mostly just window-shopped. I pointed out the window of the Armani place where I had acquired Bridgett’s dress – she hadn’t known Armani catered to women as well – but we didn’t go inside. I wasn’t in need of a new suit just yet and probably wouldn’t need one until Moretti’s daughter got hitched or something. Then I’d come get one.
Ice cream at Ghirardelli’s Chocolate and a quick carriage ride down a few blocks to my favorite drinking establishment came next.
The 676 Restaurant and Bar was just a block down from the famous Tiffany’s jewelry store and in the same building as the Omni Hotel. I helped Bridgett dodge the drunks and other pedestrians as we made our way into the building. The downstairs was your usual hotel stuff – front desk, concierge, bellhops – but upstairs there was a small restaurant and bar that mostly catered to the hotel’s guests.
I wasn’t sure what was better – the food, the drinks, or the banter between the staff.
“This place is…nice,” Bridgett said softly.
“Good service, too,” I informed her. “They have the best martinis in the city. You like martinis, right?”
“Sure, I guess.”
Her hesitation caused me to stop in front of the elevator and take her by the elbow.
“It’s okay?” I asked. I had no idea why I was feeling suddenly hesitant. I hadn’t been to 676 for a while, but I was there enough in the past to be considered as much of a regular as anyone was. I’d never actually taken a girl up there with me, though. I’d taken a couple away – or at least as far as their hotel rooms upstairs – but never brought one in with me.
“Whatever you like,” Bridgett responded.
I scowled at her lack of answer, which seemed to make her smile. Her hand reached up and touched the side of my face.