Inside was pure class. Simple and small, but definitely the kind of place people with lots of money went to shop. Diamonds, colored gems and every hue of gold sparkled from the soft tan suede displays, held safe from prying hands with fingerprint-free sparkling glass. A silver tray near the door featured chocolate covered strawberries and what looked like homemade cookies.
Her stomach grumbled its appreciation, but she ignored the food in favor of the case closest to her.
“Their selection is good, yes?” Roman said beside her.
Good was too tame of a word. Everything in front of her was elegant but beautifully unique. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
“They are custom pieces. The owner is known for his craftsmanship.”
“Really?” She leaned in for a closer look. “It looks like the super fancy stuff you see at all the big retail jewelry stores but a whole lot more original.”
A blond-haired woman in a perfectly fitted black dress and model-quality makeup sauntered their direction. Her gaze darted between Roman and Bonnie and she wriggled her elastic wristlet with a decent number of keys free. “May I help you?”
“Roman Kozlov to see Mr. Frannelly.”
Her eyes widened and her attention shuttled to Bonnie for all of a heartbeat before she nodded at Roman. “Of course.” She hustled to the back of the store.
Bonnie chuckled. “Wow. You’ve got a real way with people. I bet the last time she walked that fast was for a Black Friday sale at Needless Markup.”
“Needless what?”
“Neiman Marcus.” When all he did was frown at her, she added, “Neiman Marcus. One of my bar regulars calls it Needless Markup. Get it?”
Comprehension registered and he smiled just as a slightly balding dark-haired man hurried their direction.
The man extended his hand for a handshake long before he reached Roman. “Mr. Kozlov, how nice to see you again. Are you here to see Raymond? He’s out running an errand, but will be back soon. I can call him.”
Roman shook Mr. Frannelly’s hand. “No need. I’m here on business.”
For the barest of moments, genuine fear swept across Mr. Frannelly’s face. He masked it quickly and squared his shoulders. “Whatever it is, you know you can count on me.” With a shaky smile he turned his gaze on Bonnie. “Is this your wife?”
Bonnie nearly choked.
Roman beamed. “Not yet. No.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side. “This is moya nevesta, Bonnie Drummond.”
Moya what? And what did he mean not yet? Neither question had a chance to be voiced because Mr. Frannelly was too busy offering her the same enthusiastic handshake he’d given Roman. “Such a lovely woman. My name is Aryeh Frannelly. So very nice to meet you.”
He covered their joined hands with his free one and twisted just enough to aim his raised voice toward the door he’d appeared from. “Chana! Come and say hello. Mr. Kozlov has come to visit and brought his fiancée with him.”
A cold sweat broke out along the back of her neck and her lungs completely stopped working. If Mr. Frannelly didn’t have such a firm grip on her hand, she’d have already turned and bolted out the front door.
As if he sensed the panic roiling inside her, Roman gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
Bonnie was halfway tempted to elbow the presumptuous turd in the ribs and actually might have if the woman she assumed was Chana hadn’t hurried into view. Age-wise, she seemed to be in her late forties or early fifties, and while her black dress didn’t fit quite as snugly as the woman who’d greeted them, it was twice as classy. “Roman, what an unexpected but lovely surprise.”
Mr. Frannelly finally released Bonnie’s hand and mirrored Roman’s pose with his arm around his wife. “Chana, meet Miss Drummond. Bonnie, this is my wife, Chana.”
Chana’s smile was genuine as she inclined her head to Bonnie. “So very nice to meet you. And how wonderful to hear our Roman has found the right woman. The women at synagogue will be devastated, but I couldn’t be happier for him.”
Bonnie craned her head up to meet Roman’s eyes. “You’re Jewish?”
The brightness in his eyes dimmed as though a cloud had passed over him. “I do not practice religion.”
Chana scoffed and waved a hand. “As if that would be a deterrent to any of them. Every time they see him, they gossip for days after.” She paused a moment and volleyed her attention between her husband and Roman. “Is something wrong with Raymond?”
“No, no,” Mr. Frannelly said. “Roman wants to talk business.”
“Oh!” Her eyebrows hopped high and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, then. How about if I keep Bonnie company while the two of you handle whatever needs handling?”
Roman motioned to the case full of custom designs in the front. “Perhaps you could show her some of Aryeh’s designs. She is interested in crafting jewelry herself someday.”
“Oh, is she now?” It might have sounded sarcastic if Bonnie hadn’t been able to see the genuine delight on Chana’s face. She took her own elastic key band off her wrist and jangled the keys. “You know I will never spare a chance to show my beloved Aryeh’s work to a willing customer.”
And just like that, Bonnie was alone with a feisty woman with the keys to a whole building full of fine jewelry. She should have been ecstatic. Totally taking advantage of the situation and soaking up anything and everything she could from the woman in front of her. But the word fiancée kept ping-ponging around in her head.
It was Chana who got things off dead center in the most gracious of ways. “Come. Let me show you some of my favorites.”
She rounded the counter and opened the locked flap. One after the other, she pulled out exquisite pieces in both yellow and white gold, all of them displayed on soft tan suede holders that matched the rest of the case. “My Aryeh has been working with jewelry since he was a little boy. His father was a jeweler. As was his grandfather.”
A gorgeous white gold cuff with swirling curves that reminded Bonnie of the ocean and tanzanite gems anchored in the center of each wave winked at her. She stroked her fingertip over the delicate design. “His work is gorgeous.”
“Here,” she said, freeing it from its holder. “Try it on.”
Bonnie jerked her hands away. “Oh, no. No trying on.”
“Why not? It would look beautiful on you!”
“Um.” Bonnie threw out her arms to each side. “See this coat? All I did was look at it and Roman bought it. I’m afraid to find out what he’d do if he saw me actually try something on.”