“Good morning, miss,” he says.
“Good morning,” I say nervously, not used to being called miss.
The jeweler waits attentively, his hands folded behind his back. When I don’t say anything, he gives me a curt nod and gestures to the nearest display case. “Can I help you find something in particular today?”
I shake my head a little too fervently. A strand of my hair flicks up into my mouth and gets stuck on my tongue. I awkwardly peel it off as the man pretends not to notice.
“Actually, I...” I set my resumes face-down on the counter and reach into my pocket. For a few seconds, I clutch the four shards of my onyx heart, letting them dig into my palm. Then, I dump them onto the display case.
The jeweler pulls his head back, like I just dropped a dead mouse in front of him. He quickly regains his composure.
I wish I could say the same for myself.
“A repair job, miss?” He reaches for the pieces with short, stubby fingers and arranges them in something vaguely resembling a heart.
“Actually, no,” I say. If my life is never going back to the way it was before, I don’t want my onyx heart to, either. “Can you smooth the sharp parts down so they’re wearable, but keep them as they are? And make holes in them so they can fit on a chain?”
I hope he understands what I’m getting at. I don’t know jewelry terms. I don’t even know if what I want is possible.
“So, to recap.” The jeweler carefully picks up the largest piece of my onyx heart. “You want each of these four stones rounded down, polished, and put on a separate chain to make four different necklaces?”
His words instantly summon a vision, and a song. One necklace for Tate, my Prince Charming. One for Charles, my Beast. One for JJ, my Knight in Shining Armor. And one for me, their princess, the one who makes them whole.
“Miss?” the jeweler presses.
I forget about my song and focus on his question. It takes me a second, but then I shake my head. “No, just one necklace.” Because this is real life, and not a fairy tale.
“Of course, miss.” He reaches under the counter and shows me a few different styles of chains.
I pick the simplest one.
He smiles. “Consider it done.”
I sigh with relief. The pieces of my onyx heart were broken apart, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love them, just the way they are.
“Fifty dollars,” the jeweler says.
“What?” I stare stupidly at him.
“Fifty dollars, miss,” he says politely.
“Um...” Self consciously, I pat my pockets. I reach inside, knowing full well that all I have to my name are a few crumpled bills. I slowly unfold the twenty and the three ones and show them to him. “This is all I have.”
The jeweler stares at me blankly. “We can do credit or debit if you like.”
My face flushes with embarrassment. “Um, no, I meant... This is all I have.”
The silence that follows is so deep I could drown in it. It’s as though I started speaking in a language that he doesn’t understand. And why would he? He’s probably used to customers like Charles, who buy diamonds to embed in their private planes. Not that Charles actually does that, I’m sure, or that my being poor is in any way Charles’s fault. After everything he’s done for me, I’m grateful—I really am—I just wish I didn’t feel quite so useless.
“I really need this,” I tell the jeweler softly.
His mouth opens, but no words come out. He clearly has no idea how to respond.
I admit, this must be weird. I’m sure no one else here has ever run out of money and decided to spend their last twenty-three bucks on custom jewelry. I’m sure, working here, all he ever sees are rich people who know exactly what they want and have the money to pay for it. He probably has no idea what this means to me. No one does. No one but me. Which is when an idea hits.
“Can I ask, what do you make per hour?” I ask.
The jeweler looks taken aback. “Pardon me, miss?”
“How much do you get paid?”
He stares blankly at me. It must be an unusual question. But this is an unusual situation, and I’m not giving up on my fractured heart.
“I own the place,” he says, smoothing down his blazer.
“Oh.” Fighting through the embarrassment, I smile at him, “Well, how much do you pay employees?”
“Minimum wage.” He tilts his head as he examines me, like he’s trying to figure out what’s happening and is at a complete loss.
“Then let me work here for a few hours,” I reply, gesturing at the twenty-three dollars on the counter. “Just until I pay the rest of this off?”
He hesitates, and then he starts to laugh. It’s not a mean laugh, or an unpleasant one. It’s a hearty one—a pleased one, of a man who knows how to find joy in the moment, and has apparently found it. “Just wait one moment, miss.”
He disappears into the back room and I wait in tense silence, staring at the pieces of my fractured heart as they lay exposed on the display counter. He has to agree. If he doesn’t, then I don’t know what I’ll do.
By the time I manage to get an interview somewhere, and a job, and my first paycheck, it could be weeks. And I can’t bear not to have the cold pieces of my onyx heart grazing my collarbone, not when they’re such a huge part of who I am.
I can’t start my new life without my necklace. These onyx fragments are literally all I have to my name, and I have to be the one who fixes them. If I ask the guys to pay for it, it wouldn’t be a new beginning. If I can make this happen myself, it will be.
I let myself slip into a trance, humming comforting songs and clinging to hope in any way I can. Eyeing the clock, I feel like Cinderella, watching the seconds tick to midnight.
At long last, the jeweler emerges from the back room with a piece of paper.
“We’ve never had anybody ask to pay for their order like this before,” he says, which does not surprise me in the slightest. “However, I can get you on payroll as a trainee.”
“You can?” The smile I shoot him is so bright, I can practically feel myself glowing. Like a princess hit with a magic spell that’s about to make her dreams come true.
“Fill this out, bring it back, and you’re hired. Temporarily, of course.” He nudges a piece of paper across the counter toward me. It’s an application form.
I gasp. Forgetting myself, I jump into the air. I want to hug him, but I stop myself just in time.
“Oh, thank you,” I breathe. I wonder if he realizes he’s just made all my dreams come true. My fairy godmother is an old jeweler in a black blazer. Who knew?
Floating on air, I thank my fairy godblazer once again and dance out the door.
Chapter 16
I head back to the apartment for lunch, unwilling to spend a single penny on food when I need it to fix my fractured heart. I take my time filling out the application, put on some more of my lucky lip-gloss, and make my way to the jewelry store.
The bell jingles happily above my head, and I feel like I’m entering an enchanted kingdom. The gold and diamonds sparkling around me lend generously to that notion.
“Hello?” I call out, since, once again, there’s no sign of my fairy godblazer.