by R. J. Blain
“Why?”
“You do not have handcuffs.”
“I always put a pair of handcuffs in my luggage. There might be someone I wish to cuff during my trip. Of course, that someone is usually my wife, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Dad!”
“What? I’m old, not dead.”
I raised a brow, looking Mr. Hampton over. “There’s a name for men like you, Mr. Hampton.”
“What’s that?”
“Silver fox.” I smirked at Bradley. “I’m a lucky woman. Just steal your father’s cuffs and don’t question it. Just pray they’re new.”
“They’re new,” Bradley’s father said with laughter in his voice. “There are some things a man just doesn’t share.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Bradley muttered, and as he could sometimes be wise, he fled towards the beach to escape from his father’s insanity.
I admired the view.
“Sometimes, that one isn’t the brightest crayon in the box. I swear I gave that boy the talk when he was fifteen. I even told him how to safely use handcuffs for entertainment purposes. They’re fuzzy, they’re new in box, and there are two pairs. It’s more fun that way.”
“Not four pairs?” I asked, unable to keep from raising a brow.
“There are better cuffs for that, and they’re made of leather. I even acquired a gag so you can shut him up if he protests too much.”
“On the outside, you look all refined and dignified, but here we are, discussing bondage on a beach.”
“I don’t recommend bondage on a beach. The sand gets everywhere.”
My eyes widened, as his tone carried the weight of bitter experience. “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.”
FIFTEEN
Bradley, I made a mistake.
In what I viewed as a dazzling victory over his father, Bradley won the right to use his parents’ credit card on anything we wanted in an upscale jewelry store in the heart of San Francisco. I preened I’d gotten to help by adding in some threats to ask for details about the Hampton’s beach bondage activities. Whistling a merry tune, my fiancé browsed the offerings while I stared at a necklace with red stones in the display case. According to the tag, it was made of numerous gemstones, including the center stone, which was a small but fierce red diamond. Clear diamonds circled the red diamond, which was then surrounded with rubies. Garnets and spinel spread from the center of the collar and ended in bands of carnelian. Judging from the headless mannequin, it was meant to be worn as a choker, with the precious diamond safely nestled in the hollow of the throat.
According to the price tag, I could buy two nice sports cars for the price of the necklace with some cash left over. Whistling, I admired the piece, wondering who’d spend over a million dollars on a piece of jewelry.
Bradley’s father joined me, leaning over for a better look at the piece. “That’s something else.”
I nodded, pointing at the red diamond. “It’s so small yet so valuable.”
“I’d guess it’s about a carat, and it’s a damned good color.” Bradley’s father lifted his head and gestured to the gentleman behind the counter who kept a close eye on us and the store’s priceless treasure.
“How many I help you, sir?”
“Where is the diamond from?”
“This stone was discovered in Australia, sir. We have its certificate of authenticity if you’d like to see it.”
“Please,” Mr. Hampton replied, and he shooed me away. “You need a necklace anyway, and it’s traditional in our family for the father of the groom to provide it. The mother of the groom will get a bracelet for you. The boy’s on the hook for the rings, so off you go. If I don’t get a necklace the wife approves of, I’m on the couch for at least twenty years, assuming I survive her initial wrath. I cannot bring shame to the family name.”
I spluttered, but at a warning look from Bradley’s father, I retreated across the store. “Bradley, I made a mistake.”
“What did you do?” he asked without looking up from the assortment of rings on display in the cabinet.
“I looked at the necklace in the display case, and your father is interested in it.”
“Ah. My grandfather picked my mother’s necklace. My mother made it hard on Dad, because she never even indicated which color gemstones she likes, so they had to guess completely. If Dad thinks you love it, he’ll get it based solely on that and deal with Mom later about it.”
“That’s real?”
“Mom will pick a bracelet. I get the rings.”
I frowned. “The earrings are on me, then?”
“Not precisely. Those are handed down unless it’s a complete mismatch. They’re clear diamonds, so they usually match. As such, the earrings are already covered. My mother will give them to you when you’re getting dressed for the wedding, along with the rest of the jewelry set. The only piece you get today is the engagement ring. We usually only do a wedding ring for the men, but I’ll get an engagement ring as well.” Bradley pointed at a sparkling ring in the case, one which was decorated with many tiny stones without the huge central stone I expected among the rich and famous. “I’m thinking something more like that for you. I don’t think you’ll like a large stone. It’ll get in the way while you work, and I want you to have something you’ll wear. Mom’s taking her rings off all the time because it always gets in the way, which drives Dad crazy.”
Was there anything more attractive than a practical man? On second thought, there was: a practical man naked in bed, named Bradley Hampton. “Your dad is trying to buy a necklace that costs more than a million dollars, Bradley.”
“He can afford it. You’re worth every penny. Mom’ll have to work hard at besting him—”
“They have a matching bracelet,” Bradley’s father announced. “And earrings. The earrings are ruby, the bracelet is ruby, garnet, and spinel. Your mother might forgive me one day for acquiring the set. There’s also a ring, and it also has a red diamond, but it’s only a quarter carat set with white diamonds in a chalice band.”
Not a single word of his father’s statement made a lick of sense to me, but it caught my fiancé’s attention, and he abandoned me to investigate the treasure I’d been admiring. I sighed, wondering what had gotten into the men and how I’d become the sane one of the lot. The other store employee, an older woman in a sleek black blazer and skirt, offered me a tentative smile. “It’s rare to see a father and son go on a venture like this. It’s most often the very nervous son trying to navigate the perils of fine jewelry on his own.”
I matched the woman’s smile. “I’m useless at this.” Admitting the truth took a load off my shoulders, and I took over where Bradley had started, eyeing the selection of rings with interest. “He needs a narrow engagement band and a matching wedding brand. I’m insecure, so he wants to make a statement.”
“With such a handsome man as your fiancé? I would be insecure, too.” The woman leaned over the counter and pointed at a pair of rings tucked into the corner. “If he works with his hands often, that set would be ideal. The stones are set beneath a rim of metal, making it hard to lose them. They’re covered under our warranty, so if he does lose a stone, we will replace it at no charge. We back all of our pieces, of course.”
Of course. “Don’t tell me how much they cost. Just please make sure they fit before I have a heart attack.”
She humored me with a smile, grabbed a set of rings, and snagged the engagement and wedding band. “This pair is a one-off; if it doesn’t fit, we can take the stones and set it in a ring of the same design that will fit. We have limited room to adjust the bands.” Removing the rings, she showed me how the diamonds fully circled the bands. “If his ring size changes, we can adjust it as needed. If his finger becomes smaller, we will keep the excess diamonds in storage for future adjustments.”
Apparently, the rich and famous got top-notch service. Heaving a sigh, I regarded the Hamptons, who engaged in a lively discussion with the gentl
eman tasked with defending the necklace. “What ring would match the ring that goes with that set?”
Without hesitation, she pointed at a band in the display case, which featured a band of diamonds similar to the set she’d picked for Bradley. “That one. We talk about that set often, and we’ve come to the conclusion that ring is probably the best match for it. It won’t overwhelm the red diamond, and you don’t want anything too flashy; the engagement band is meant to shine. It will complement rather than overwhelm.”
I held out my left hand and pointed at my ring finger. “I don’t know what size that thing is.”
Laughing, she took the rings and tested my finger until she found which one fit, and then she tested the ring, nodded her satisfaction, and slipped it on my finger. “Luck is with you. Let me check the size of the engagement ring.”
I took off the wedding band, and at a loss of where to put it, set it with the rings she’d suggested for Bradley. To my amusement, the woman pilfered the engagement band from the set, brought it to me, and put it on my finger. Like the first ring, it fit.
“The nice thing about having average sized fingers is that most rings are made in a small range of sizes, so you have good odds of not needing to have a ring adjusted.” The woman smiled, and she removed the red diamond ring before sliding the wedding band onto my finger. Then she replaced the engagement band and gave a satisfied nod. “Once wed, this is how they’re supposed to be worn. The wedding band should go closest to your heart. However, some women will wear the engagement band there instead, as it’s the order they were received. But during the ceremony, he should remove the engagement band, put your wedding band on, and then replace the engagement band. Some women opt to not wear the engagement ring during the ceremony, but I think this one is too special to hide.”
No kidding. With the necklace costing a ridiculous amount, I didn’t even want to think about how much the ring cost. “The older one is paying.”
The woman smiled, gathered the rings, and joined Bradley and his father, setting my acquisitions on the glass counter. “I need to measure your finger, sir.”
Without missing a beat, Bradley held out his left hand while listening to his father and the gentleman discuss the specifics of the jewelry set. The woman tested the rings on his finger, made a few notations, and returned to me. “His rings will need to be resized. It will take about a week. We will need to source some matching diamonds, as he has larger hands.”
I hadn’t noticed his hands being large. Waiting a week to lay my claim annoyed me, and I returned to the section with rings. “Do you have any solid gold bands in his size he can wear in the meantime?”
She chuckled, nodded, and rummaged through one of the collection of rings until she found one that matched my request. “It’s never bad to have a spare ring, and this would be good for him to wear if he’s doing outdoor work and doesn’t want to get the ring filthy.”
“Maybe I should get a set that’s plain, too.”
Smiling, she found us both a pair of plain gold rings in our sizes, and she added them to the collection on the counter. “While you wait on your gentlemen, do you have any questions? Is there anything you’d like to look at?”
“Show me something that’ll sticker shock me as bad as that necklace,” I suggested, hoping the newest onslaught to my delicate sensibilities would restore me to sanity.
“We have Patek Phillipe watches in stock, and we have a display piece that the owner would be willing to sell. I can say he won’t entertain any offers below thirty million for it.” She gestured to a golden pocket watch set in the center of the case. “This is the piece.”
My mouth dropped open. “Did you just say that watch is thirty million dollars?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Right. I’d asked to be sticker shocked. I went beyond shocked. The pocket watch, while beautiful, cost so much I struggled to comprehend its value. “Bradley?”
“Yes?”
“This watch is insanity.”
“If you like it, buy it,” he informed me, as his attention was fixated on the red necklace, which the gentleman guarding it handed over for his inspection. “Dad’s buying.”
“I’d bankrupt your father if I bought this.”
“He’d probably cry for a while but endure somehow.”
“Do you even like pocket watches?”
Bradley stilled, and after a moment of looking over the necklace, he handed it back to the gentleman and wandered my way. “You have my attention.”
“Boy, you’re supposed to be deciding if this is good enough for your woman,” Mr. Hampton complained.
“There will never be a necklace as beautiful as she is, but that one comes close to doing her some justice. And red suits her. Good luck, Dad.”
I stared at Bradley, wondering if I needed to take him to a doctor for an evaluation.
“There’s no luck involved with this purchase, you spoiled brat of a child.” Heaving a sigh, the older man said something, nodded, pulled out his wallet, and selected a black credit card, which he handed over before coming to join us. “Now what are you trying to make me buy?”
“The young lady inquired on a piece that could sticker shock her, which is this piece.”
The men stared at it, and I recognized the instant they’d gone from neutral to unhealthily interested in the treasures the case held. “No.”
According to their expressions, I had dealt them a cruel blow, and they attempted to stare me into submission.
“We have to come back next week to pick up Bradley’s rings, so if you can get the approval of adult supervision, you may then buy the ridiculously expensive watch. I will call the adult supervision and notify her of this, as there will be no thirty million dollar purchases made at random. The only reason I’m allowing you to get away with that necklace is because it’s a family tradition. If you claim randomly buying a stupidly expensive watch is a family tradition, I will call your adult supervision for confirmation.”
“She really will, Dad.”
“I know she will,” Mr. Hampton muttered, and he sighed, staring at the watch. “But it’s a Patek Phillipe.”
It concerned me he knew who had made the watch at a glance, unless he’d overheard me talking to the woman. “You may come back next week after speaking with an adult, and only after you have obtained forgiveness for your first impulse purchase.”
“Good luck, Dad.” Bradley surrendered and moved off to check the other watches available for sale. “If you don’t pick a watch, I will pick one for you. My favorite librarian deserves a watch.”
I recognized a lost battle when I saw it. “What’s the cheapest watch you sell?” I asked.
The woman chuckled, and she pointed at a corner cabinet featuring more watches. “They’re mostly for children or they’re novelty, but there’s a book-themed watch over there.”
A book-themed watch? I hurried over to where she pointed, discovering a watch depicting an open book with a tasseled bookmark for an hour hand and a feather quill for a second hand. “Oh!”
“This model is quite popular among our reading clients,” she announced with pride. “And you should find the price tag attractive.” She unlocked the case, slipped her hand inside, and turned the price tag so I could see it. $249.99 would buy me the perfect watch. I reached for my purse, but before I could get my hand on my wallet, Bradley took hold of my wrist to deflect me from my mission.
“Hey,” I protested.
“I’ll buy you the watch.”
“I can afford this one.”
Heaving a sigh, Bradley eyed me, eyed the watch, and released me. “I’ll look the other way, because that’s not worth fighting over.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Bradley?” I demanded.
“I just recognize the worst thing I could do for you is take your independence, and you decided you would buy that for yourself.” He smiled, kissed my cheek, and left me to the business of securing my new timekeeper. “But you’re goin
g to have to deal with me buying everything at the bookstore. Dad? Find us an open bookstore. The librarian needs to be rewarded.”
“And a luggage store, to carry everything she buys,” Bradley’s father replied, and he laughed and shook his head. “And you’re going to need a larger house if you want to care for your librarian properly.”
Like hell he did. I had an entire study I could fill with books. Ignoring the insanity seemed safer than participating, so I dug out my wallet, retrieved my bank card, and put it on the counter. “Please take my money.”
“With pleasure,” the woman replied, removing my new watch from the case and guiding me to the register. “Would you like to wear your watch out today?”
“I absolutely would.”
As promised, Bradley and his father took me out for Chinese food and to the bookstore before we headed to the hotel to start making real progress on attempting to sort out the tangled weave of my kidnapping and the murders of unethical politicians out to either enslave or control the populace. Due to time constraints, we didn’t go car shopping, but I didn’t mind waiting.
I wanted to enjoy looking over the vehicles rather than rush.
I also wanted to deal with the memory of Senator Westonhaus telling me the upper echelons of the United States government controlled everything, which nibbled away at me.
Once back in the hotel, I grabbed a piece of paper and began taking notes, starting with the concept the government no longer had a checks and balances system, all politicians followed a precise script, and that all Americans were pawns of some game we didn’t even realize existed.
“Should I be concerned?” Bradley asked, sitting on the floor beside me and digging his laptop out of his briefcase.
“Only if you have a healthy dislike of conspiracy theories.”
“While I have a healthy dislike of conspiracy theories, I have learned reality is a harsh and cruel mistress. Hit me with your best shot.”
“On the way to the restaurant we went to discuss the donation, Senator Westonhaus told me that all politicians of a certain level are essentially inducted into the government system and given a choice: dance to the tune of the established system or find themselves disposed of. Every vote, every piece of legislation brought into law, all of it is predetermined by the top-ranking officials.”