“This is a one-and-three-quarter carat solitaire set in platinum,” the saleslady says, finally knowing what to do with us. “The round cut is excellent and the clarity rating of VS1 is—”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s nearly perfect.”
“I don’t want it if it’s not perfect.”
“Jeez, Dario. You’d think you weren’t already married to someone else.”
The saleslady clears her throat but remains neutral.
“Will she like it or not?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Oria holds her hand out flat, considering it. “She’ll like it.”
“We can place a new diamond in this setting,” the saleslady says. “I’ll show you our collection of perfect stones. Is this size what you were looking for?”
“I want bigger.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Oria takes off the ring and picks up her phone. “You’re going to freak her out and she won’t wear it.”
The lady leads us to an area in the back meant for people looking at the expensive shit. Exits locked and the archway in is narrower. Easier to secure. Two security guys. Alarm system cleverly hidden, but not invisible. There’s probably another layer of security I can’t see.
Doesn’t matter. I’m a paying customer.
Attention on her phone, Oria wanders off to a couch upholstered in robin’s egg blue leather.
“Did you see the video?” I’m not in a sitting mood, so I stand over her.
“No fucking way I’m watching that.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I’m suddenly nervous about the entrances and exits. The foot traffic outside. How did I wind up in Manhattan? Jewelry stores aren’t hard to find. I could have gone to one upstate, but I had to have the best for Sarah, and the best is here.
“What are we going to do about it?” Oria won’t look at me.
“We’re pulling our stock from Newark.”
“Is this the ‘stock’ you’ve been working on for six years?”
Guns. She means guns and so do I.
“Six and a half, but yes.”
“Why are you telling me this?” She puts the phone aside. “You never tell me this shit.”
“I can stop telling you this shit.” I sit next to her. “Your choice.”
She squints as if a tighter lens will bring my motivations into focus. “So it’s stock or… what’s the other option?”
“It’s all stock.”
The ceiling lighting is hidden behind beige panels. Only the glow is visible because it’s the only thing that’s needed. The ugliness of wires and plugs is hidden.
“I’ve been thinking…” I can’t finish. Once I tell her, it has to happen. If it doesn’t, I’ll have to deal with the blowback. “About you and Nico.”
“Yes?” She tilts her head. I have one hundred percent of her attention. She can tell something’s off.
“I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why you want him back. Why it’s hard to be apart. Why you want peace.”
“I’m sorry? I don’t want peace with them. I just don’t want him inside with them… and what the actual…? You want a truce?”
This is the blowback.
“Not anymore.”
“You were even thinking it?” She scans my face and decides I was. “You were thinking of accepting what they do? Just letting it slide because you got bored?”
“I’m not bored.”
“Then what is it?”
“Can’t you figure it out?”
“Jesus.” She plops her bag onto her lap but doesn’t open it. “You love her.”
“I don’t know.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re confused. When it comes to ‘love,’ you’re incompetent. It’s the one thing you’ve always admitted you didn’t know how to do.”
I’ve lived a hundred years inside my short life, but I’ve never said the words she’s looking for. Even in my mind. Even about my own brother. Or my dead mother.
“I care about her. Deeply.”
She scoffs. “You cared deeply about every woman who came through.”
“This is different.” I keep my voice low, but I’m failing to keep my cool.
“I mean, you’re fucking her so, yeah.”
Reducing my feelings for Sarah to fucking should piss me off, but we’re in public, and the comment isn’t meant to insult. Oria is holding up a fact to indirect light.
“What does fucking have to do with caring?”
She puts her head against the back of the couch and looks at the ceiling, whispering curses. “All I want to do right now is wait for Nico to come home. And all you have to do is let that happen.”
“Done.”
“What?”
I shrug and look away as if it’s nothing, but it’s one of the reasons I had her meet me here.
“He’s coming back.”
“When?”
“Once we get Dafne out.” I look at my watch while she sits on the edge of the couch like a kid waiting for her birthday present. “Or we confirm she’s dead. Then he’s meeting you at Teterboro. He’ll probably talk to you himself, but I wanted you to know. He’s coming out.”
She throws her arms around me with such force I’m almost pushed off the couch.
“Thank you.” She squeezes the breath out of me.
“Okay.”
“Thank you so much, you fucking asshole. Thank you.”
“You’re…” I push her off and she finally lets go. Her eyes are glassy with tears of joy. “You’re welcome. It was his idea. He’s ready.”
“I can’t believe it.” She digs in her bag and comes out with a used tissue to dab her eyes.
She’ll believe it when it happens, and it will. It has to, for the same reason I have to keep Sarah with me. The world is not real without her. Oria must feel the same about Nico.
I haven’t felt this good about someone else’s happiness in my life.
The saleslady comes out with a tray of diamonds, followed by an armed security guard who looks no more threatening than any big guy in a suit. I meet them at the counter. Oria stays behind.
She starts her pitch. “These three stones are—”
“Which is the best?” I’m losing patience with this whole process.
“It depends on what you’re looking for.”
She’s not getting it. She’s used to people coming in here either knowing what she’s talking about or eager to learn.
“I’m looking for a ring that won’t look insignificant next to the size of her heart, with a diamond as perfect as she is. It has to be a color that’s bright, but not overpowering. It has to be like her. Humble and priceless at the same time. Do you understand?”
The saleslady nods slowly, blinking once.
“This one.” With tweezers, she pulls out a stone and holds it under a light. “Two carat. Perfect cut and clarity. We have more colorless stones, but I think you might appreciate something on the warmer side.”