Mister Diamond

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Mister Diamond Page 5

by Chance Carter


  “Hey! Silver fox!” one shrieked.

  I chuckled and nudged Dexter in the side. “I think she means you.”

  Dexter’s stride took on a little more swagger and he ran a hand through his hair. “Won’t be a moment, Nikki.”

  He pulled aside to talk to the two girls, one of whom was eyeing me up like her next meal, and I hung out beside him without participating. Neither were my type, though I was beginning to wonder what that was since nobody had fit the bill in a very long time. Well, almost nobody.

  The sound of heavy footfalls crashed into my ears just as a crying woman in a blue dress streaked past our group. Neither Dexter nor his new friends seemed to notice, but I couldn’t look away. Why did she look so familiar? I could’ve sworn it was Gemma.

  The second her name crossed my mind I spun and ran after her, not wasting a second deliberating whether the girl running down the street was actually the plucky Tiffany’s assistant or not.

  “Nik!” Dexter hollered. “Where are you going?”

  I didn’t answer, too focused on pushing myself faster. I gained ground just as she turned the corner, and rounded it a second later.

  “Gemma!” I called out.

  She didn’t stop.

  Maybe it wasn’t her, I realized. Maybe I was chasing a stranger who happened to have the same height, build, and hair color as the girl who’d taken root in my mind. It sounded crazy when I thought about it like that, but I couldn’t stop. Not when there was a chance, however slight, that it was Gemma.

  I pushed harder until my thighs burned. “Gemma! Stop!”

  I was close enough that I could almost reach her now. She glanced back, face contorting with confusion, and stopped dead.

  My momentum sent me crashing into her. Gemma squeaked and keeled forward, and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders to keep her from tumbling to the ground.

  We were both panting, hearts racing. Now that I’d confirmed it was Gemma, and I’d caught her, I struggled to think of what to say. I should’ve thought about that before I chased after her. Only problem was, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

  Thankfully, Gemma beat me to it.

  ”Oh, hey.” She turned to face me, painting on a lighthearted smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  I let my arms drop to my sides, swallowing. “Hey. Sorry, I saw you running and...” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “Is everything okay?”

  Gemma wiped at the tears under her eyes and sniffed.

  “Oh man, just hay fever, you know?” She shrugged. “Can’t leave the house in April without my whole face exploding.”

  We both knew I didn’t believe that. Only problem was, I didn’t know what to say. How to help. I wasn’t used to comforting people. I wasn’t used to being comforted. I had zero experience with situations like this and now I’d gone and tossed myself off the deep end.

  “Gemma—“ I began, but she cut me off.

  “How’s ring number three working out?” she asked, looking down as she wiped the makeup and embarrassment from under her eyes. “So bad that you had to chase me down?”

  “Still waiting to hear.” I stepped closer, lifting a hand to her shoulder. “Gemma, are you sure you’re—“

  Dexter rounded the corner, huffing and puffing like he had a beef with three little pigs. He ran up to us and stopped, bending with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

  “What—“ Wheeze. “The hell—“ Wheeze. “Man.”

  “Gemma, this is my friend Dexter.”

  I tried not to be too annoyed with him for bowling up to us when he did, especially since I’d run off without warning. I wanted to be alone with her, to find out what was wrong and if there was anything I could do. I don’t know why but it killed me to see her like this. I shouldn’t care. I knew I shouldn’t care.

  “You’re crying,” Dexter stated.

  I could’ve murdered him.

  All the warmth growing in Gemma’s expression siphoned away and she closed her mouth into a tight-lipped smile. A loud ringing noise broke the silence and Gemma pulled her phone from her purse, frowning at the screen.

  “I’m gonna go now,” she announced, though she didn’t answer her phone.

  Gemma turned to leave and I gestured for Dexter to stay put and jogged after her.

  “Hey,” I said, coming to stand in front of her. Her phone was still ringing. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Do you need me to call someone?”

  Gemma’s jaw tensed, lips pouting ever-so-slightly in annoyance.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  She stepped around me and continued walking, and I should’ve left it at that. Something tugged at my gut though and I couldn’t. I caught up with her again, only to see fresh tears welling in her eyes.

  “Gemma—“

  “Stop saying my name like you know me!” she snapped, glaring at me. “Why the hell do you even care? Just leave me alone!”

  That stopped me. I froze on the sidewalk, guilt stabbing through my bones as I watched her stomp away.

  Dexter came to stand next to me. He whistled through his teeth.

  “She’s a fiery one. I hope you’re not thinking about going after her.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “No kidding. She practically bit your head off.” He laughed and smacked a hand on my back. “How do you know her, anyway?”

  I watched Gemma until she turned a corner at the end of the block, then turned back in the direction of the club.

  “She works at Tiffany’s,” I said absently, mind somewhere else. “She’s been helping me find a ring for Valentina.”

  “You’re joking.”

  I shook my head.

  Dexter grunted. “That’s fucked up, man.”

  I didn’t ask what it was about the situation he found fucked up. The fact that I kept choosing engagement rings for a woman I’d never met? The fact that she kept rejecting them? Or the fact that I felt something in the pit of my stomach for the woman selling me those rings?

  Truth was, it was all fucked up. And I didn’t need Dexter to tell me that.

  * * *

  I had a lunch meeting downtown the next day, and the walk back took me down Fifth Avenue’s bustling promenade. The air was warm and damp, with misty clouds sealing in the city like head on a beer. It had been a boring day, but most days were. There wasn’t much room for creativity when it came to imports and exports, which was just how my father liked it. Clear cut lines, goals, objectives.

  No art, no heart.

  I was no romantic, but it was hard not to feel stifled sometimes.

  I passed the Tiffany’s window and slowed. Gemma’s tear-stained face appeared in my mind and I considered going inside. I owed her an apology. I kept seeing her eyes, narrowed in accusation, as she asked me why I cared. And I didn’t have an answer, not one that made sense.

  Which was exactly why it would be a bad idea for me to go inside, I decided. Ours was a business relationship. Nothing more.

  * * *

  The New York office of Orlove Import/Export was housed over several floors in one of New York’s many skyscrapers. It was a plain but functional office. My father was a fan of extravagance, and the office would have been dripping with golden excess if he ran it, but I called the shots here and preferred well-trained, well-paid staff to caviar and champagne on tap. My staff respected me and that made them work hard.

  None worked harder than good old Bernie. When my last assistant retired, she answered the ad as a fearless, twenty-three year old college grad who wanted to prove her worth to the world. I almost didn’t hire her due to her lack of experience, but she begged me to give her a chance and had been proving herself ever since. She knew the most intimate details of my life, so when I neared her desk, just outside my office door, and saw the grim expression on her face, I knew exactly what was wrong.

  “She returned it,” I surmised.

  Bernadette wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. No note or anything, just the
box and the ring.”

  “What am I doing wrong here?” I grumbled, running a hand over my face.

  “Nothing that I can see,” she replied. “It seems like she’s being difficult just for the sake of it.”

  I snorted. “I’ll say.”

  I swiped the offending package off her desk and retreated behind my office doors. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as angry as I had been the last two times. At first I thought I’d just accepted that this was the status quo, made peace with it. But it was more than that.

  I wasn’t just not angry. I was happy. Valentina returning the ring meant I got to see Gemma again.

  Chapter 8

  Gemma

  After my confrontation with Nik, I had a whole other reason to cry. I was mortified.

  I made it back to my apartment without further incident and sequestered myself in my room. My tears burned like lava as they rolled down my cheeks, and a scream built in my chest. It was all too much.

  Had Justin found Molly on purpose? Would he leave me alone after tonight, or would he come after me? And why—for the love of God, why—did I have to run into Nik on my way home? Worse, why did he run after me? And why did I snap at him like that?

  These questions whirled through my head, sharp edges slicing with every turn.

  I wished I could turn back the clock and decide not to go out tonight. That still wouldn’t have solved the problem of Molly having the hots for my estranged brother, but at least when I finally had to face that obstacle I wouldn’t end up embarrassing myself in front of the world’s sexiest man.

  My phone rang again and I ignored it. Again. I wasn’t ready to talk to Molly yet. I didn’t know what to tell her, even where I could possibly start. I never thought things would end up this way and hadn’t prepared for it.

  Soon my tears dried and I went to my mirror to clean up my face. I was home now, and safe. Even though there was the slight chance that Molly would bring Justin home with her, I was as safe as I could expect too be in the circumstances. I didn’t have to face Nik here at least.

  I heard the front door open and my heart jolted into my throat. Molly. I only hoped she was alone.

  She banged on my door a second later. “Gemma? Are you here?”

  I took a deep breath, walked over and opened it. Molly’s face was tight with a mixture of concern and anger, and I still had no idea what to say to her. I’d never planned for what would happen when my old life and my new life mixed. I never thought they would.

  “What the hell was that?” Molly asked, barging into my room. She sat down at the end of the bed and folded her arms, pink lips pursed. “Justin was crushed that you ran away. He said none of your family has seen you for years. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I swallowed. “I didn’t think I would have to.”

  “You didn’t think you would have to?”

  Molly stood and I knew I’d screwed up. Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say.

  “I tell you everything,” Molly snapped. “Not because I have to. Because I want to.”

  “I know,” I said, stumbling to rectify the situation. “My family situation is complicated, but I’ve stayed away from them all this time by choice.”

  “Did they hurt you?” Molly asked, and the anger began to dissipate from her features.

  I shook my head.

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  “Then why?” While I struggled to summarize a past I hadn’t thought about in a long time, Molly shook her head. “He was just trying to be nice to you, Gemma.”

  I began to wonder what Justin had told her about me. He had a way of spinning words, of turning lies into half-truths. It made him a good lawyer. It also made him a prime tormentor.

  I couldn’t compete with that.

  “I want to be alone,” I said. “Please.”

  Her scowl returned. “You can’t just shut out everyone in your life anytime things get a little hard.”

  It was as though my brother was behind her, whispering into her ear. And why wouldn’t she believe him if he were? By all accounts, my brother was a resounding success. Smart, well-mannered, well-liked. Everything I wasn’t. He went to the best schools and had the best of everything. I’d take his story too if I had to choose between us.

  “Just leave me alone,” I said, more firmly this time.

  Molly rolled her eyes and stalked out of my room, slamming the door behind her. I already knew not explaining myself was a mistake, but I couldn’t force the words from my throat. It was too much. I thought time and distance would heal these old wounds but they were open and hemorrhaging like fresh ones. I needed time to process the fact that my ordinary life had been infiltrated. Invaded.

  Once upon a time, I’d lost everything because of my family. I only hoped I wasn’t about to lose it all over again.

  Going to work the next morning was both a relief and a burden. On one hand, I got to avoid Molly, who had the day off and would be around the apartment all day. On the other, there was the possibility, however small, that Nik would come into Tiffany’s.

  Part of me wished he would, despite my embarrassment. The rest of me hoped I would never see him again in my life.

  Molly’s words circled my head again. You can’t just shut out everyone in your life anytime things get a little hard.

  She didn’t know how much they cut. She couldn’t. I couldn’t decide whether that made it better or worse.

  At least it was a quiet day and the only other person on the floor was a girl called Nora, who I rarely spoke to. My manager Christine was cooped up in her office, which suited all of us just fine. I spent most of the morning polishing jewelry and thinking about what I would say to Molly when I got home, even though the thought of facing her made me feel sick.

  Would she believe me? Justin probably told her that I liked to exaggerate, that I reveled in creating drama out of thin air. He’d told me the same thing many times, and if he could make me believe it, he could easily turn my own best friend against me.

  The part that made me fear talking to Molly the most was a small part of me thought that maybe all this time, Justin was right. How could I face that? I’d done a good job of avoiding having to do so these past few years, but my time was up.

  I was still panicking quietly to myself when Nik walked through the door. Because what else could possibly go wrong in my life?

  His eyes landed on Nora first, and I knew that if I could duck out of sight before he saw me, I’d be able to escape to the back until he was gone. Not the most mature option, sure, but the most palatable one considering my present state of mind.

  I squatted low, like I was getting something from the far back of the case, and began to ease along the edge of the counter. Unluckily, Nik trained his eagle eyes on me the second before I made it out of the glass part. He walked over.

  “Are you trying to crab-walk away from me?” he asked, a touch of humor in his tone.

  I looked up to see him peering over the top of the counter, crinkles at the corners of his dark eyes and mouth pulled into a smirk.

  I cleared my throat and rose.

  “No, I was just...grabbing something.” I opened the cupboard and grabbed a pair of scissors, holding them out triumphantly.

  “Right.”

  Warmth leaked from his expression and gave me a dose of desperately needed confidence.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said. “I was upset, as I’m sure you noticed, and I can be a little cranky when I’m like that. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  Nik nodded slowly.

  “I know. Are you feeling better today?”

  I nearly let slip that no, I was not feeling any better and no, I didn’t expect to feel better anytime soon. Then I remembered where I was and who I was with.

  “Totally,” I lied. “Sometimes you just need a good cry, you know?”

  He studied me, evaluating my expression, before humming his displeasure.

  “I don’t believe you.”

&n
bsp; Why should it matter whether I told him the truth or not? He saw me upset, expressed his concern, and I’d told him everything was fine. We’d fulfilled a social contract as old as time itself. That should have been it.

  But even though part of me was annoyed that he wouldn’t let me skirt around his questions, I couldn’t deny how good it felt to receive his full attention. For whatever reason, it bothered Nik that something was wrong with me. I could only assume the guy was a bottomless pit of compassion.

  “I had a fight with my roommate,” I explained. “Been avoiding her since. We’ll work it out, though.”

  He seemed to accept that and smiled. “Good. And I’m sorry if I was a little overbearing. I never know what to do in those situations.”

  “Not a problem. Neither do I.”

  I remembered how he’d run after me, the desperation in his eyes when he caught me, and my stomach burned. Justin might be right that I ran from my problems, but it struck me that Nik was the first person who’d ever chased me. I struggled to decide whether that meant something. Or was he just a caring sort of guy who would chase after any damsel in distress?

  Nik rooted through his pocket while I mulled over the conundrum, and the second he plopped down the little blue box a boulder crashed into the pit of my stomach.

  It didn’t matter that Nik was the first person to ever run after me. He was marrying somebody else.

  I tried to hide my distress, cringing theatrically.

  “Returned again, huh?”

  Nik’s full lips pressed together in displeasure.

  “Returned again.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Nik.” I placed my hands on my hips, mouth flat. “I don’t know what to suggest.”

  “And I don’t know what to do.” He ran his fingers through his dark, silky locks, brow furrowed in distress. His eyes tracked down the cases and he sighed. “Okay. Give me the most expensive one you’ve got.”

  “Seriously?”

  He smirked at the note of hysteria in my voice, and when his eyes met mine they glimmered with amusement.

  “Yes. Seriously.”

  I walked down to the last case, pulling my keys from my pocket. I didn’t know what this guy did or how rich he was, but he had to be pretty loaded to be able to walk into Tiffany’s and ask for the most expensive ring. Why was his fiancée doing this to him? Unless he had some nasty dark side, I couldn’t imagine him being anything less than a doting, caring partner. He was going through a lot of effort just to make her happy, even though for whatever reason she seemed determined to trip him up at every turn. My heart went out to him, but at the same time I wanted to shake him. He deserved better than this.

 

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