by Jae
Claire’s jaw moved, but she needed several seconds to make her vocal cords work. “You…what?”
Lana ducked her head but didn’t repeat it. “I’m so sorry.” She tried to withdraw her hand from Claire’s, but Claire held on.
Yes, Lana had messed up, but making her feel even worse about it wouldn’t improve the situation. They had to deal with this—as a team. “What did they say?”
“Um, at first, not much. They were too busy staring at me openmouthed. I tried to backtrack and told them I was planning to propose but hadn’t done it yet.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped Claire. “Now I understand that strange little intervention they staged in the kitchen and them going on and on about my Christmas wish list and us rushing things!”
“I tried to tell you by the pool, but your mother…”
“I know.” Claire sighed.
They walked on in silence for a bit.
“What do we do now?” Lana asked quietly. “Do you want to cancel our contract?”
“What? No!” Claire realized she’d called it out more loudly than intended. She lowered her voice and repeated, “No. That’s not what I want. There’s too much on the line to stop now. It probably doesn’t matter that my parents think you want to propose. We’ll break up long before they expect to see a ring on my finger.”
Lana’s grip on her hand tightened until it became nearly painful. “Oh shit.”
“Ouch. Hey, don’t panic. I just said it doesn’t matter what my parents—”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Lana pulled her to a stop beneath a streetlamp and half turned to face her. “A ring! The publishing people will expect at least one of us to wear an engagement ring!”
Now Claire was the one who clutched Lana’s hand. Shit. She glanced at her wristwatch. Where on earth could they get an engagement ring in the next ten hours?
An image of the two rings hidden away in the bottom drawer of her nightstand flashed through her mind: the one she’d bought for Abby and the one Abby had later given her. While Abby had left her ring behind along with her keys when she’d moved out, Claire hadn’t yet brought herself to send Abby back her ring.
Maybe they could put the rings to use now.
But the thought of sliding Abby’s ring on Lana’s finger seemed wrong, as if she was trying to give her a hand-me-down from a previous relationship. Lana deserved better than that.
Oh, come on. Lana isn’t really your fiancée. It’s not like her feelings would be hurt.
Still, she didn’t like the idea. Besides, the three-carat ring she’d bought Abby wouldn’t be Lana’s style at all. She’d have to come up with a plan B—and she’d have to do it fast.
Chapter 13
God, Claire couldn’t believe the lengths she was willing to go to secure this book deal. This was possibly the most embarrassing and humiliating thing she’d ever done.
She peered through the glass door of the jewelry store.
Mr. Watson was behind the counter, polishing a ring or some other piece of jewelry.
Claire took a deep breath and lifted her hand to knock on the glass.
Lana’s fingers wrapped around her hand. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can see how uncomfortable this makes you. We can tell the acquisitions editor I accidentally dropped my ring down the drain or something.”
“Oh no.” Claire firmly shook her head. “That’s the oldest excuse in the book. Ninety percent of my patients use it to explain why they no longer wear their wedding ring.”
“Then we tell them we’ve decided not to wear rings because we don’t want to copy heteronormative ideas of what an engagement has to look like.”
“But what if the editor likes those heteronormative ideas?”
Lana looked at her with a helpless expression. “Then we’ll…um…”
“It’s okay.” Claire turned her hand around and gave Lana’s fingers a soft squeeze. “I appreciate that you want to spare me the embarrassment, but I don’t think there’s a way around it. We need a ring, and Mr. Watson is the only jeweler I know who’d be willing to open early for me.”
Slowly, Lana nodded and withdrew her hand.
Claire immediately missed its soothing warmth. She curled her hand into a fist and knocked.
Mr. Watson looked up. A smile spread over his face. He crossed the room and unlocked the door. As he opened it, a bell tinkled. “Good morning, Dr. Renshaw. Good to see you again.”
Claire wished she could say the same. “Thanks for opening early for us. I wouldn’t have called you, but we’ve got a plane to catch.”
“No problem.” He let them into the air-conditioned store. “How are your parents?”
“They’re doing well, thank you. But if you could please not mention this visit to them…”
He mimed zipping his lips shut. “Confidentiality is a given in my profession, just like in yours. But now you’ve made me curious. What brings you here? Is there something wrong with the ring I sold you last December?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Okay, here came the embarrassing part. She stiffened her shoulders. “I need another engagement ring.”
“Um, surely you mean wedding ring, don’t you?”
“No. I do mean engagement ring.”
Mr. Watson’s gaze went from her to Lana and back. “Oh.”
Not wanting to see the judgment on his face, Claire strode past him to the glass-covered counter. Diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and other gemstones sparkled beneath the glass.
“What kind of ring did you have in mind?” Mr. Watson asked, his voice carefully neutral. “A solitaire or a cluster? A gold, white gold, or platinum band?”
“I don’t know yet. Can we see a few?”
“Certainly.” Mr. Watson unlocked the lighted showcase, pulled out a black, velvet-lined tray, and set it on top of the counter.
Claire rubbed her chin as she studied each ring, taking in the different cuts and bands and imagining how each one would look on Lana’s hand. Lana wasn’t the flashy type, so a five-carat ring was definitely out. Claire eyed a ring with a smaller—but not too small—diamond, flanked by four tiny ones on each side.
“This one is nice, don’t you think?” Claire said to Lana. Glancing at Mr. Watson, she asked, “How much is it?”
“It’s a one-point-seven-carat ring,” he answered. “It comes to eleven thousand dollars, plus tax.”
Half a step behind Claire, Lana sucked in a breath.
Claire bent closer to study the ring. It came with a white gold band. Hmm. Would yellow gold be better? Or platinum? She compared the different stones and bands and massaged her temples. Had deciding been this hard when she’d picked a ring for Abby?
Lana cleared her throat. “Um, Claire…”
“What do you think?” Claire waved her closer. “Do you like it? Or do you want to see a few more?” She looked at Mr. Watson. “Could we?”
“Of course.” He set two more trays on top of the showcase.
“Claire!” Lana tugged on her sleeve until Claire turned. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Without waiting for a reply, she dragged Claire a few steps away.
“What is it?” Claire asked. “We don’t have much time.”
“Which is why I need to cut this short.” Lana faced her with a fierce expression. “We’re not getting one of these rocks.”
“Come on. It’s not the Hope Diamond. Eleven thousand is a reasonable price for an engagement ring. Besides, the price shouldn’t matter as long as you like it.”
Lana glanced at Mr. Watson and leaned closer. “Jeez, Claire! I won’t keep the ring, you know that! Or have you forgotten that we’re not really engaged?”
“Oh. Um, no, of course not.” She hadn’t. Not really. Okay, maybe for a second or two, but she would never admit that momentary lapse. “It’s just that anyone who knows me wou
ld expect me to buy a nice ring for my fiancée.”
“Yeah, but the editor doesn’t really know you. Maybe she wouldn’t even know the difference, so let’s get a cubic zirconia or something cheap.”
A cubic zirconia. Something as fake as their relationship. That thought was like a punch to the stomach. Every fiber of Claire’s being protested. “No, that doesn’t feel right. I don’t want anyone to think I don’t value you.”
Lana sighed. “That’s sweet, but my worth…anyone’s worth can’t be measured in money.”
“I know. I just…” Letting Lana walk around with a cheap imitation on her finger wasn’t right, even if it was only for a few days.
“Claire, please. We’re going to miss our plane if you keep this up. We don’t need the perfect ring. We just need a ring—preferably one that doesn’t cost a kidney.”
They were at a standoff. Lana was as stubborn as she was—if not more. She wouldn’t budge. “Okay. Let’s try chapter four of my book.”
Lana quirked a smile. “Sex on the kitchen table…or rather, the glass counter? You’d have to be awfully good for me to give in and let you buy that expensive ring.”
“Sssh.” Claire’s face grew hot. Her entire body, truth be told. She threw a glance at Mr. Watson to see if he had heard, but if he had, he gave no indication of it. “No. There is no chapter on…that in my book. Chapter four is Finding the Right Balance: The Art of Compromise. So let’s compromise.”
“All right,” Lana said. “What are you suggesting?”
“If you were to get engaged…for real, I mean…what kind of ring would you want?” Claire prayed that Lana wouldn’t want them to get Celtic knots tattooed on their ring fingers or something like that.
Lana walked to a smaller showcase in one corner of the room and bent to look at the rings.
“Um, these aren’t traditional engagement rings,” Mr. Watson said.
“I’m not a traditional woman,” Lana countered with a smile. She pointed at one of the rings. “This one.”
Claire walked over and had her point it out again.
The ring would be a perfect fit; she had to admit that, even though it would be a rather unusual engagement ring. The platinum band was shaped like a delicate feather that would wrap around the wearer’s finger. The broadest part of the feather quill held a small topaz, which shone like the blue of a summer sky.
Claire immediately understood the meaning the ring would have for Lana. “The feather,” she said quietly. “It’s like a part of your phoenix.”
Lana nodded.
They looked at each other.
“We’ll take this one,” Claire said without looking away.
Mr. Watson told her the price—one thousand three hundred dollars—and she handed over her credit card.
“Um, maybe it won’t even fit,” Lana said, as if she considered even that price too high. “It might be too small for me.”
“I can resize it if it doesn’t fit,” Mr. Watson threw in.
Claire glanced at her wristwatch. Would they have time for that? She gently nudged Lana. “Try it on.”
Mr. Watson unlocked the glass case and held out the ring.
Lana took it gingerly and slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand.
As Claire watched, she found herself holding her breath.
The ring fit onto Lana’s finger as if it had been made for her. She held it up for Claire to see.
“Beautiful,” Claire whispered.
Their gazes caught and held until Mr. Watson cleared his throat. “Let me put it in a box for you.” He looked from Lana to Claire. “I assume you want to do a proper proposal later and not just have her stick the ring on her own finger, right?”
Claire’s cheeks heated. “Um, right,” she said, not wanting him to think her unromantic.
For someone who had seemed ready to get a ring from a gum-ball machine, Lana appeared to be pretty reluctant to take it off. She threw one last look at it before sliding the ring off her finger and handing it over.
Claire smiled at her. “See? That chapter of my book isn’t so bad, is it?”
“I think I still prefer sex on the kitchen table,” Lana whispered, so close that her lips almost touched the rim of Claire’s ear.
A bolt of fire shot through Claire’s body. “Um…airport,” she stammered out. “We need to get to the airport.”
“What about a ring for you?” Lana asked.
Claire hesitated, but she didn’t want another ring that she’d soon have to take off and put in a drawer. “I don’t need one. I’m the one who proposed, so you are the one who gets the ring.”
Lana nodded as if sensing the real reason behind her decision.
With the ring box clutched in one hand and her credit card in the other, Claire followed Lana out the door.
Buying an engagement ring for Abby had definitely not been like this at all!
Lana boarded the plane and settled into her comfy leather recliner in the first-class section. Wow. She peeked over at Claire, who had the window seat. Having a rich fiancée definitely had its advantages. She had never flown first class before. For once, she didn’t need to squeeze into her seat and glare at the travelers in front of her when they reclined their seats and started to snore not even twenty minutes into the flight.
Yeah, just don’t get used to it. It’s only temporary. She bit her lip and touched the empty spot on her finger where the ring had rested earlier. How could wearing it feel so strange and so right at the same time?
“Ma’am?” One of the flight attendants had stopped next to their seats. “Are you okay?”
At first, Lana thought she was talking to her. Quickly, she took her hand away from her left ring finger.
But the flight attendant wasn’t looking at her; she was focused on Claire.
Lana turned her head.
Claire sat ramrod straight in her seat, one hand gripping the armrest closest to the window, the other pressed flat to her thigh. She was pale, and sweat gleamed on her upper lip.
As soon as the flight attendant’s attention was on her, Claire put on her practiced therapist mask. Her smile probably convinced the flight attendant, but not Lana. “Oh yes, I’m fine.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” Claire said.
Lana asked for water, eager to send the flight attendant on her way so she could find out what was wrong with Claire. When the woman walked away, she reached across the wide armrest between them and put her hand on Claire’s. “What’s wrong? And don’t try that I’m-fine routine with me. I know you better than that.”
“Yeah, I guess you do. But I really am fine.”
Lana gave her a skeptical look. “Do I have to tickle it out of you?”
“Ha! Here? You wouldn’t dare!”
“Are you challenging me?” Lana formed her hands into tickle-ready claws and slowly moved them toward Claire.
“Okay, okay.” Claire put up her own hands as a shield between them. “I admit I’m not fond of flying.”
“A psychologist with a phobia?” Lana put her hands back into her lap and gave Claire a teasing grin, hoping it would relax her a little.
“It’s not a phobia. I just don’t like…”
“Not being the one behind the wheel…or the control stick or whatever they call that thing?”
When Claire shrugged, Lana knew she’d hit the nail on its head.
“Okay, I admit it. I’m a bit of a control freak.” Claire held her index finger and her thumb a fraction of an inch apart.
A bit? Lana smiled, but since admitting it was a big step for Claire, she didn’t tease her about it. “Why don’t you distract yourself with something fun that will make the flight go by faster?”
“Fun? Like what? I swear if you suggest a technique from my sex-on-the-
kitchen-table chapter, I’m going to—”
“I thought you didn’t have a sex-on-the-kitchen-table chapter?”
“I don’t. But now I can’t stop thinking of that chapter without your unofficial subtitle popping into my mind.” Claire threw her a disgruntled look. “I swear if I accidentally call it that during out meeting with Ms. Huge, you’ll be in trouble.”
Lana laughed. “Since there’s no kitchen table in here anyway, how about a movie?” She pointed at the touch screen in front of Claire.
“No, thanks. But you are right. A distraction might work. I could work on my book.” She pulled her printed-out manuscript pages from her bag.
“That’s something you consider fun?” After a second, she couldn’t resist adding, “Well, other than the chapter on—”
“Don’t say it, or I will have to tickle you!”
Part of Lana was tempted to find out if Claire would follow through on her threat. How would it feel to have Claire’s fingers run along her ribs and then slide…? Stop it! She squirmed in her seat. This thing between us is just for show, remember?
Claire wasn’t even her type.
Oh, so you don’t like smart, confident women in power suits at all. Right.
The flight attendant chose that moment to deliver Lana’s water.
“Thank you.” She took it gratefully, fished out an ice cube, and chewed it. Maybe it would help her cool off.
As the plane taxied down the runway, sped up, and then lifted off, Claire paused in her last-minute editing and white-knuckled her silver pen so tightly that Lana thought she might break it and make ink explode across the entire first-class section.
“Here.” She reached across the wide armrest between them. “Hold on to me instead.”
Claire hesitated for a second before latching on to her hand.
It forced Lana to sit at an awkward angle, but she didn’t mind. “Why are you still working on the book?” she asked to distract Claire. “Isn’t the manuscript already with the publisher?”
“It is, but if they accept it for publication, I figure getting a jump start on the edits won’t hurt.”
Lana leaned across the armrest to glance at the changes Claire had neatly written into the margins. The page on top was the intro to chapter two, subtitled Playing First Fiddle: Make Your Relationship a Priority. Claire had crossed out the last part and replaced it with Prioritize Your Relationship.