I
grabbed Rafe’s arm and practically pushed him ahead of me through the shop and the purple curtain and into the workroom, where I flipped on the overhead light. It simply wasn’t possible that Cinnamon and I had the same taste in diamond rings, but I couldn’t just accuse Rafe of pilfering my ring for his girlfriend. What if he had indeed picked out the exact same style for his intended? What if he and Marco shared a preference for more than pizza toppings? Was there such a thing as a jewelry gene?
“I don’t see a burned-out bulb,” Rafe said.
“In the bathroom.” I grabbed a fresh bulb from a cabinet, shoved it at him, and pointed toward the rear of the building. I needed to buy some time.
While he was hunting for the dark bulb, I paced from one side of the workroom to the other, trying to figure out how to address the situation without revealing our engagement. As soon as he reappeared with the burned-out bulb, I said, “I hope you didn’t put that ring on credit, Rafe, because it looks expensive, and the last thing you need is to start out in debt—”
“I didn’t buy the ring.” Rafe glanced at the curtain, then said quietly, “Cinnamon found it.”
She
found
it? “Would you care to explain?” I asked as I disposed of the bulb.
He combed his fingers through his hair. “I really screwed up, Abby. I was just supposed to pick up a package at Bindstrom’s Jewelry for Marco and drop it off at Down the Hatch—”
My ears started to buzz. Marco sent Rafe for
my
ring after telling
me
it was a bad idea?
“—but the clerks at Bindstrom’s were busy, and I had to wait so long that I was going to be late for work, so as soon as I had the package, I went straight to Hooters instead of stopping at Marco’s bar to drop it off. Then when I gave Cinnamon a ride home, she saw the bag in the glove compartment and assumed it was for her.”
Ack!
Cinnamon
was
wearing my diamond. Make that
flaunting
my diamond. Unclenching my teeth, I said, “Why would she assume a package in your glove compartment was for her?”
“It had Bindstrom’s Jewelry written on the gift bag. I’d just asked her to marry me. Why wouldn’t she assume it was for her, especially when she saw what was inside?”
He had a point. “Rafe, you had to know who that ring was intended for.”
“Yeah, for you. But I figured you and Marco were keeping quiet about it; otherwise he would have told me. What am I going to do, Abby? Marco’s waiting for that package.”
“He doesn’t know yet?”
“I made up some excuse about storing the package in the boss’s office safe so it wouldn’t get stolen, and then the boss leaving for the day, so I couldn’t get back inside to pick it up. I’ve got to tell him soon, but he’s going to kill me when he finds out what happened.”
No sympathy there. Rafe wasn’t even thinking about how I felt seeing my ring on Cinnamon’s finger. At least now I understood why Marco was stalling, even if he didn’t know the full extent of it. “So let me get this straight. You haven’t told anyone how you got the ring?”
“No.”
“And Marco doesn’t know Cinnamon has it?”
“No. And I can’t ask her to give it back. She loves that ring. It would break her heart.”
Cinnamon’s heart was not at the top of my list of concerns. Getting my ring back was, but so was keeping my secret from our parents, which meant from the rest of New Chapel as well.
“I’m so going to pay for this,” Rafe moaned, clapping his hands to his head in a gesture worthy of a child of Francesca Salvare’s.
“Hush, Rafe. Go check on Cinnamon. She might be getting antsy.”
When Rafe slipped through the curtain, I paced some more, and by the time he came back to report that Cinnamon was talking to a girlfriend on her phone, I’d made a decision.
“Okay, Rafe, if you want my help, you’ll need to look me in the eye and swear that what I tell you next won’t go any further than this room.”
He slid onto a stool, then put his hand over his heart. “I swear.”
“Fine. Here it is. Your brother and I decided not to tell anyone about our engagement until we made a decision about when, where, and how we’re going to be married. I was going to keep the ring hidden for the time being. Neither of us wants to rush anything. Marriage is an important step in a person’s life and rushing things wouldn’t be smart. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I knew by his expression my message had gone over his head.
“That’s fine if you guys want to wait,” Rafe said, “but what am I going to do? I can’t even imagine what my mom will say when she sees Cinnamon wearing that ring tomorrow night. She knows I can’t pay for it. I can’t tell Cinnamon I made a mistake because I’d have to explain why, and I just promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone. Besides, she’d want me to buy one just as nice, and, well”—he rested his chin on his hand, looking like a dejected little boy—“my credit card limit is five hundred dollars.”
“So you’re stuck with a diamond you can’t afford, and I’m stuck watching your fiancée wear my ring.” I sat down on the stool beside him and, with a sigh, rested my chin in my hand, too. After a moment, I said, “You’re going to have to confess to Marco tomorrow.”
“Can’t you tell him? You can explain it better. If I tell him, he’ll probably kick me out of his apartment and ship me back to Ohio with Mom.”
Well, that would solve things, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’d be better off letting that scenario play out . . . except that Cinnamon would probably keep the ring as her consolation prize.
“Please, Abby. I’ll do anything. Sweep your flower shop every night for a year. Shovel snow in the winter. Give your yellow door a fresh coat of paint. Anything you ask.”
Anything? Hmm. Maybe there was a way out that would work for both of us.
I hopped off the stool and peered through the curtain to be sure Cinnamon wasn’t in the vicinity. “Okay, Rafe, here’s the deal. I’ll tell your brother about the mixup—and I’ll even make him promise not to send you back to Ohio—on two conditions.”
“Okay,” he said eagerly.
“First one is that you cannot get married for six months.”
Rafe’s mouth fell open. “Six months? Why?”
“It’ll give you time to save up for a ring, and it’ll also give you the opportunity to get to know Cinnamon. You don’t really know her all that well, Rafe.”
“We can get to know each other after we’re married.”
“Not a good plan. What if you discover you don’t like her?”
“Abby, for Pete’s sake, you saw her. What’s not to like?”
“You’re seeing what’s on the surface, Rafe, not what’s beneath. You may not like what you find under there. Have you ever lifted up a rock? Okay, maybe that isn’t a good comparison. All I’m asking is for you to wait half a year. If you’re really in love with her, it won’t make a bit of difference. You’ll still see her whenever you can and—”
“But she’s already decided on a wedding dress. Her mom is busy planning the showers and reception, and her dad has a hall picked out.”
Cinnamon was living my nightmare. “They’ll hold, Rafe. Trust me.”
Rafe shook his head. “I can’t do it, Abby. What if she tells me it’s now or never?”
“Then she definitely isn’t the right girl for you. Come on, Rafe, you just said you’d do anything for me.”
He looked miserable. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask that.”
“So you’d rather take your chances with Marco and your mom?”
Rafe stared at me for a long moment, a debate going on behind his eyes. I was starting to fear that he would decide to chuck everything and elope with Cinnamon when finally he sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Fine. I’ll wait six months.”
“Good for you!” I clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, Rafe.”
“But I’ll need time to figure out how to tell Cinnamon.”
“As long as it’s within reason.”
“What’s the other condition?”
“Tell Cinnamon you have to return the ring because it’s not the one you selected for her.”
“But she likes that ring.”
“Say she’ll like the real one more, then take her to Bindstrom’s and have her guess which one. She can pick out the design she likes, and then you can pay for it on the installment plan.”
“What if she says she’s fine with that one?”
“Then tell her it’s a fake. A mock-up. A synthetic stone. And just a reminder here. As you pointed out, your mom will see Cinnamon wearing the ring tomorrow night unless you get it back beforehand. Now we’d better get out there before she comes looking for you.”
I needn’t have worried. Cinnamon was busy texting. She didn’t even glance up when we sat down at the table. Rafe picked up his water bottle and took another drink. I merely stared at my ring sparkling on her finger.
As soon as I got to my apartment that night, I texted Marco: CALL WHEN U CAN.
He phoned half an hour later. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. I just wanted to tell you what happened this evening.”
He sighed. “Next time would you include that in your message? I thought something had happened to you.”
“Sorry. Let’s start over. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Go ahead. If I have to be on the move, I’ll hang up and call you back later.”
Those stakeouts could be tedious. I’d gone on a few with Marco and hadn’t enjoyed them one bit. “I’ll make this quick, then. Rafe’s going to postpone his wedding.”
“No kidding? That’s unbelievable, Abby. How did you convince him?”
“I’ll let you in on the secret right after you tell me when you were going to inform me that Rafe had my ring.”
I could almost hear the sheepishness in his voice when he asked, “How did you find out?”
“A matter of deduction. I saw Cinnamon wearing it.”
“Wearing
your
ring? Are you telling me that Rafe gave it to his
girlfriend
?”
“Make that his official fiancée . . . who discovered the box in Rafe’s glove compartment and thought it was for her. She loves the ring, by the way.”
Marco was muttering something under his breath that I wasn’t even sure was in English.
“The important thing is,” I said, “that Rafe agreed to postpone the wedding for six months and get my ring back. In exchange, you won’t tell your mom about the ring mixup and you won’t send Rafe back to Ohio.”
There was a long moment of silence. Then Marco sighed. “I can’t
believe
Rafe didn’t tell me. I’m truly sorry about the ring, Sunshine. I had the jeweler put the ring box inside a bigger box and put it in a bag so Rafe wouldn’t figure out what it was.”
“Rafe didn’t figure it out. Cinnamon did. But that’s okay. You’ll make it up to me.”
His voice turned husky, making me feel warm and tingly all over. “I will definitely make it up to you. Tomorrow night, after the dinner, it’ll be just you and me and two glasses of champagne. I’ll get the ring from Rafe, and we’ll take it from there.”
Some paybacks were good things.
On Thursday morning, I woke up early so I’d have time to catch Cody’s interview on the local cable channel before work. By seven o’clock I’d already fed Simon half a can of tuna and had my breakfast of peanut butter and honey on whole wheat toast. I poured the last of the coffee into my mug, then turned on the TV, adjusting the volume so I wouldn’t disturb Nikki. She worked the late shift at the hospital as an X-ray technician and got testy when awakened too early.
I curled up on the sofa, and Simon immediately jumped up beside me, standing on my knees and rubbing his nose against my chin.
“Phew, Simon. Fish breath.” I moved him beside me, where he began to claw at the space between the cushions.
Since the morning show always began with local news and weather, I indulged Simon by digging out the plastic straw he’d lost and tossing it across the room. He chased it, batting it around the floor as though it was a mouse, then carried it back for another round.
Six rounds later, the morning show host, Guy Louden, a slender fiftysomething man dressed in a stylish suit, announced that his special guests that morning would be Cody Verse and Lila Redmond. For a small television station, landing two celebrities was a major coup. However, when Cody finally came onto the set, it was not with Lila. He was with his new attorney, Scott Hess, who wore a sophisticated three-piece, gray pin-striped suit, a pale purple shirt, and a purple tie.
Cody had chosen the casual route, wearing black leather pants so tight I was surprised he could move, and a hooded black vest over a cobalt blue T-shirt that showed off his enormous biceps, triceps, chest, and neck, making me suspect he had a personal trainer—or took steroids. His eyes were rimmed with black kohl liner, his fingernails sported shiny black polish, his wrists were wrapped in leather strips, and he had a two-day growth of beard, a look some women found sexy. I’d always preferred a hint of five-o’clock shadow on a clean, smooth face—coincidentally, that was Marco’s look.
After welcoming Cody onto the show and shaking hands with Hess, Louden said to Cody, “How does it feel to return home a hero?”
“It feels awesome,” Cody gushed. Then, in an effort to appear humble, he added, “But I wouldn’t call myself a hero, Guy.”
“To your many fans here in New Chapel, you are,” Louden said. “I know you gave a brief performance on the courthouse lawn, but do you have any plans for a local concert?”
Before Cody could reply, Scott Hess leaned over to whisper in his ear. Cody flattened his hair down over his forehead as he listened, then said to Louden, “Something is in the works, but I can’t talk about it yet.”
Louden, known for his pointed questions, said, “Lila Redmond was scheduled to be on the show with you, and obviously she isn’t here. I can’t help wondering, Cody, why you feel the need to have an attorney present instead.”
Hess immediately jumped in. “As you know, Guy, my client is involved in a lawsuit, and because of the emotional and traumatic turn of events yesterday, I felt the need to protect him.”