She’s having second thoughts. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world that she changes her mind. I know I only gave her one chance to say no, but I’m a pretty good guy, and giving her one more out seems like the right thing to do . . . even though throughout the morning I’ve come to appreciate the notion of a marriage of convenience.
If she says no, I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed, because I would. I have completely convinced myself that this is a good idea, that I will prove Roark wrong and make him eat his own words.
She looks out the window, at the stone wall with the iconic lettering plastered over the door. I’m sure I could have found a jeweler who would custom design a ring for her, rather than taking her to Tiffany’s but we’re short on time, especially if we plan on telling her grandma tonight.
Sighing, I say, “Charlee, if you don’t—”
She shakes her head and says, “You already gave me an out, I said no. We’re going through with this.”
“I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
She turns toward me finally and softly smiles. “Rath, I was the one who proposed to you. I think if anyone is pressured, it’s you, because who really wants to say no to a girl proposing?”
“Yeah, about that. We’re not telling people you proposed to me.”
Her brow creases. “Why the hell not?”
“Because, I’m the one who proposed, and that’s how it’s going to work.”
“Rath, women can do whatever they want in this day and age. If we want to propose, we will.” With an extra pep in her step, she whips the door open and charges toward the door.
“Wait up,” I say, getting tangled up in the seat belt and nearly falling flat on my face right on the disgusting New York City sidewalk.
When she turns to see me nearly eat it, she giggles and covers her mouth.
Standing tall, I straighten my jacket. “Glad I could amuse you.”
“It would have been funnier if your shoe dipped into the sidewalk water.”
I take her hand in mine and say, “I’ll try harder next time.”
She pauses, halting my progress and she stares at our hands. “Is this the new normal?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer without giving it second thought and lead her into the store.
I take in the countless glass jewelry cases strategically placed throughout the impressive, open space. Polished wood paneling decorates the walls, while marble inlets highlight ostentatious-looking potted plants. The place screams money, and I’m about to drop some.
“Mr. Westin,” a man greets me. “My name is Albert. Thank you for coming in. Shall I show you to the back?”
I take the man’s hand and give it a hearty shake. “That would be great. Thank you, Albert.”
“The back?” Charlee whispers as we follow Albert.
“It’s where all the abhorrently expensive rings are.”
“I don’t need abhorrently expensive, Rath. We just need a diamond.”
I ignore her and follow Albert, holding on to her hand tightly as she tries to point out rings along the way—rings that are not worth my time.
Albert takes us into a private room lined with black velvet walls and violet uplighting. There’s a table in the middle with at least ten different ring selections laid out on velvet padding.
I pull out the chair for Charlee and she shakes her head. Leaning into me, she whispers, “These are too big, Rath.”
Whispering back in a stern tone, I say, “Take a seat, Charlee.”
Detecting the tone, she takes a seat and I follow next to her, keeping her hand in mine the entire time.
Albert starts listing off the different rings in front of us, and I spot three that would be acceptable for Charlee to wear. One of them isn’t the biggest diamond out of the ten there, but it’s the most intricately designed, and is my favorite. But this isn’t my ring, this is Charlee’s, so I say to Albert, “Would you mind giving us some time alone?”
“Only because you’re a reputable man who I know would not do anything suspicious.”
Yeah, because stealing rings is what I want to do to destroy my reputation.
I give him a curt nod. “Thank you.”
Once the door is shut, I pick up the three rings and place them in front of her. “Which one do you like?”
“You have got to be kidding me, Rath.” Still whispering she says, “We’re in a back room. The only reason they make rooms like this is so people can drop an obscene amount of money.”
“Can you stop focusing on the money? The cost doesn’t matter to me.”
“It matters to me.”
“Charlee,” I say, pressing my fingers to my brow. “Do you understand I have money?”
“Yes, we all know you’re wealthy.”
“No, Charlee, not wealthy. Rich. Rich beyond anything I could spend in a lifetime. I have more money than I know what to do with. So, stop worrying about the money.”
“But it seems so pointless spending money on a little piece of jewelry. Why not donate that money and get something simple?”
“Fine, pick the ring you want between these three and whatever the price tag is, I’ll match it and donate to a charity of your choice.”
“You’re spending twice the amount? Are you insane?”
“Charlee, you’re starting to make me mad.”
At that, she chuckles. “Uh-oh, don’t want to make my bridegroom mad. Who knows what he’ll do?”
My tongue runs over my teeth. “You think you’re funny?”
“Yes.” She smiles.
Christ. That lift of her lips does me in and I smile too.
She pokes my chest. “See, lighten up, Mr. Crabby Pants.”
“Hard to lighten up when the entire drive here, you acted like you were on your death march. It almost feels like I’m holding a gun to your head at this point to get you to marry me. I’m not a bad guy, you know.”
She sighs and tilts her head. “No, Rath, you’re not a bad guy; you’re a really good guy actually. You’re so good that you’re trying to make this experience as perfect as possible with the big ring, but I don’t need perfect, I just need a moment.”
“And you’ll get your moment, I promise you that.”
Grateful, she takes her hand in mine. “Then let’s make a promise to each other right now. From here on out, if we’re going to do this, let’s have fun doing it. Which means, loosening up”—she shakes my hand—“and enjoying our engagement.”
I chuckle. “You’re going to make this a spectacle, aren’t you?”
“Would you expect anything else from me?”
I shake my head. “Not really, no.” Exhaling, I stare at the rings and then meet her gaze. “Okay, we’ll have fun doing this, but there’s one thing I won’t loosen up on and it’s the ring.”
“Rath . . .”
“Listen.” I lift my hand. “You’re going to be my wife, which means there’s a way of living we have to uphold to.”
“You don’t dress super fancy. You’re pretty average when it comes to a CEO, so why do we have to have a giant ring?”