Something from Tiffany’s

by Melissa Hill

  So what was she going to do?

  Rachel came back out of the storeroom. ‘Making more sourdough already?’ she said, noticing that Terri was kneading out fresh dough. ‘Damn, it must be doing a bomb today.’

  She and Terri had an unofficial competition going on over how well each of their speciality breads was doing in the artisan bakery. Today Rachel’s olive bread was lagging behind.

  ‘Doesn’t it always?’ Terri replied jokingly, hoping her despondency didn’t show in her tone.

  ‘We’re still fine on cookies though, and – oh blast!’ Rachel added, her face falling. She wiped her hands and fished around in the pockets of her apron for her mobile.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know how many times I promised Ethan I’d make some for his little daughter. I should have given them to him when he was in earlier, but I completely forgot. Maybe he can pop back and collect some later.’

  Terri watched as Rachel waited for the call to be answered.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. ‘No answer. I’ll just leave a message and hope he gets it before he goes back to London.’

  Terri idly wondered why Ethan hadn’t taken the call. Although, given Gary’s response to his plight, he was perhaps down at a Garda station trying to make a complaint, or worse, she thought with a woeful grin, down by the River Liffey trying to decide whether or not to hurl himself in.

  ‘When is he due to go back?’ Terri asked. ‘Doesn’t seem that he’s had that much time for research.’

  ‘Not sure. I think it’s this evening. And I know,’ Rachel chuckled, ‘I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that a book about bread sounded about as interesting as paint drying. But I did tell him that we’d help out, if he’d like – given our own superior knowledge of the subject!’

  ‘Good idea.’ Maybe Ethan would take Rachel up on this and use it as a pretext for staying in touch. If so, the guy would be rightly stuck with his lame cover story. ‘But we both know I’m the real baker around here,’ she teased. ‘Seeing as my good old sourdough’s left your olive bread for dust, again.’

  ‘Well, get cracking on making more of it then, instead of rubbing my nose in it!’ Rachel retorted. ‘Anyway, I told Ethan in the message to collect the cookies whenever he can, so if he calls back later when I’m finished here will you make sure he gets them?’

  ‘Of course.’ Terri now wondered if Ethan would be back with a policeman, given his recent stonewalling by Gary. Yet she knew he wouldn’t make a scene, for Rachel’s sake if nothing else. Either way, she wasn’t entirely resistant to another encounter with Ethan Greene. It meant she could find out exactly what had been said when he’d spoken to Gary.

  Rachel was using her fingers to break up pieces of fat for puff pastry. ‘Damn, I keep forgetting to take this off,’ she said, catching the ring as it was just about to slide off. She laughed lightly. ‘If I’m not more careful, one of these days it’ll end up in somebody’s dinner!’

  Terri looked up and watched Rachel place the ring on a nearby shelf before resuming what she was doing.

  ‘Yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?’ she replied distractedly, turning back to the dough she was kneading.

  Chapter 30

  Ethan was so angry he thought he might burst. The gall of the man to deny outright that the ring was Ethan’s, when Knowles had to know full well he had come by it in unlikely circumstances!

  Enough was enough. There was nothing else for it now but to take this whole thing straight to the police. But there was a problem: which police? The incident had happened in New York so why would the Irish, or indeed the British police, be interested?

  He wondered if he might be able to claim the loss back on his credit-card insurance. There would be visual proof (as well as witnesses) to his buying the ring in the store, and he could ring Tiffany’s and ask them to send him copies of the security footage of Gary Knowles buying the silver bracelet. Yes, he supposed he could try that. Ethan was annoyed he hadn’t thought of this before now, but, stupidly, he’d thought he was dealing with reasonable and rational people, not a thug with no morals, who thought nothing of pocketing such a valuable item.

  He was delighted to have been offered another excuse to visit the bistro, and by Rachel herself, when he picked up her message about collecting cookies for Daisy.

  So this afternoon he’d go and see Rachel one last time and then tell her straight out exactly the kind of man her fiancé really was.

  And this time nothing was going to stop him.

  ‘She’s not here,’ Terri told Ethan when he arrived at the bistro again. His flight was due to leave at seven, and he figured he’d have ample time to pop back and explain all to Rachel before heading to the airport. ‘She’s out catering another event tonight.’

  He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t believe this.’

  Terri looked at him. ‘I hear that things didn’t go so well with Prince Charming earlier?’

  ‘You could say that.’ He glowered. ‘He completely denies that the ring is mine!’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ethan. I tried my best to make him see sense. But Gary can be stubborn, not to mention stupid.’

  ‘We’ll see how stubborn he is when Scotland Yard are breathing down his neck,’ Ethan said brusquely, although it was a threat that held little water and they both knew it. He looked at Terri. ‘I appreciate your help, though. You’re the only one who seems to believe me.’

  ‘Of course I believe you. I just wish things could have been different. Anyway,’ she said, taking a white cardboard box from beneath the counter. ‘Rachel asked me to give you these. They’re cookies for your daughter, she said.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Ethan absently tucked them under his arm.

  ‘And this is for you,’ she added, offering him a parcel wrapped up in purple paper, Stromboli’s logo emblazoned upon it in orange writing. ‘It’s some more of that sourdough you liked so much at lunch yesterday. I think you might enjoy this even more.’

  ‘Thanks, but that’s really not necessary,’ he said reluctantly. In truth, Ethan didn’t want anything to remind him of this godforsaken place.

  ‘I know Rachel would really like you to have it,’ Terri continued, pressing it into his hands. There was something in her voice that caused him to look at her more closely, but then he wondered if he might be imagining it. God knows his head was all over the place this weekend. Her green eyes bored into his. ‘Please, I insist. And try to eat it as soon as you can, won’t you? It won’t stay fresh for long. Maybe have some on the flight back?’

  ‘Thanks, that’s very kind of you.’ Ethan took the parcel, more for her sake than anything else. He actually quite liked Terri; he knew exactly where he stood with her, and she was ultimately the only person besides Daisy with whom he could share his frustration.

  But now he just wanted to get out of this blasted place and back to London, where first thing tomorrow he would talk to the credit-card company, and indeed his lawyers, to see what other options he could explore.

  ‘Again, I’m so sorry about what’s happened. I know Rachel would be horrified if she knew and—’

  ‘I know.’ At this point, Ethan was almost past caring about what Rachel did or didn’t think, but he appreciated Terri’s kindness. ‘Thank you for the bread, and for trying to help me too. That means a lot. I don’t know what I’m going to do next, but . . .’

  She smiled and patted his hand. ‘Try not to worry, Ethan. Things have a way of working themselves out in the end.’

  ‘Welcome back!’ Later that evening, Vanessa hugged Ethan warmly upon his return to London. He was so exhausted by the weekend’s events that he felt almost relieved to be back, despite not achieving what he’d set out to do.

  Daisy stood in the background, smiling and obviously waiting for a moment alone to find out how everything had gone. Ethan lifted her into his arms and hugged her tightly until she squealed. ‘I missed you, buttercup,’ he said, before whispering into her ear that he’
d tell all later. ‘And you too, darling,’ he said, kissing Vanessa briefly. Was he imagining it or did she seem a bit . . . giddy?

  ‘I wasn’t sure whether you’d eat on the plane so I made a light supper,’ she said.

  Actually, Ethan was starving. He hadn’t fancied any of the options they had on the plane and had (stupidly in retrospect) packed the cookies and bread in his checked luggage. Then, seeing as the cookies were for Daisy he opened his bag and withdrew the box.

  ‘These are especially for you,’ he said, winking at her. Then, remembering he couldn’t make any mention of Rachel, he mumbled something about picking them up at the airport.

  ‘Yay, thanks, Dad.’

  But immediately realising that now it looked like he hadn’t sought out a similar treat for Vanessa, he meekly picked up the sourdough. ‘And this is for you. Well, for us really. There was a lovely bistro with an in-house artisan bakery near the hotel and I thought you might like it.’

  ‘Bread?’ Vanessa looked suitably underwhelmed.

  ‘Yes, sourdough. It smelled so delicious I couldn’t resist . . .’ He shrugged, thinking that making up pathetic excuses and sounding like an idiot seemed par for the course these days.

  ‘Lovely. Well, I suppose it’ll do nicely with supper, then. Shall we eat?’

  Ethan nodded and followed her into the kitchen. He tried to avoid Daisy’s still-probing gaze, too weary to try to get the message across that his visit to Dublin had been a complete and utter waste of time.

  Vanessa had laid on a very nice spread of olives, cheese and Parma ham and Ethan set to it with gusto, pleading hunger as a good excuse not to talk about his trip. Making up more stories was the last thing he wanted to do, given that the entire thing had been such a disaster.

  Taking the bread out of its Stromboli paper packaging, Vanessa sniffed it approvingly. ‘You’re right: this does smell delicious.’ She tore a large piece from one side. ‘Daisy, would you like some?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ Daisy seemed put out that her father was keeping her in the dark, but Ethan just didn’t have the energy for explanations. He didn’t have the energy for anything at all. In truth, what he needed now was a good night’s sleep and the chance to recharge his batteries.

  ‘Ow!’ Vanessa cried out and he saw her put a hand to her mouth. ‘What the hell? I almost broke a tooth . . .’

  Then Ethan watched wordlessly as she extracted something solid from her mouth. ‘Goodness, I could have choked on something this size,’ she said disapprovingly.

  ‘What is it?’ Daisy asked, and on closer inspection Ethan saw that Vanessa was holding up something small wrapped in greaseproof paper.

  ‘Oh my God, Ethan . . .’

  Then his heart skipped a beat as, having unwrapped the paper, and with her eyes widening, Vanessa held up a diamond ring. The diamond ring.

  Ethan’s jaw dropped, and he suddenly remembered Terri’s insistence that he take the bread and her cryptic assertion that everything would turn out OK.

  ‘How did you . . . ? Is this what . . . ?’ Vanessa’s eyes were out on stalks and she was grinning from ear to ear, while Daisy looked on in amazement. ‘I can’t believe this!’

  Although he was knocked for six, Ethan automatically felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. How had Terri done it? And why? She must have somehow pilfered the ring from Rachel, possibly because she knew he was getting nowhere with Gary . . .

  Vanessa was still staring at the ring, a look of complete and utter delight on her face. ‘Ethan, is this what I think it is?’ she said, beaming at him. ‘Forgive me, but it’s not a . . . joke or anything, is it?’

  He forced himself out of his reverie. ‘No, darling. It’s exactly what you think it is,’ he reassured her, unsure why his tone sounded so leaden when this was what he’d wanted all along. Perhaps because it was just all so unexpected.

  ‘Oh my . . . I don’t know what to say. What an absolutely amazing surprise!’

  He could see Daisy watching him carefully, as if she sensed that he was just as surprised as Vanessa. The whole scenario felt almost like a replay of that Christmas morning in New York.

  ‘So,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I haven’t actually asked the most important question. Will you marry me, Vanessa?’

  She stared at the ring, and her eyes glistened with tears. ‘Of course I will!’ she cried, jumping up to embrace him. ‘Oh Ethan, this is just the best surprise!’

  And as he held her in his arms, Ethan wondered why the moment felt so surreal, and so . . . anticlimactic, almost.

  Then, taking the ring, he slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand, where it should have been from the start.

  ‘Oh,’ Vanessa said, giggling, when the ring failed to glide smoothly into place, like it was supposed to. ‘It seems a little tight.’ She tried to force it more firmly onto her finger but still it stayed wedged above the knuckle. ‘It doesn’t matter; I can always get it resized,’ she assured him blithely, but Ethan was baffled.

  His mind went back to the sight of the ring on Rachel’s finger, where it had fitted perfectly, a rather strange coincidence given that Tiffany’s had sized it especially for Vanessa.

  Once again his gaze met Daisy’s; the squinty-eyed look out in force as she watched the scene with interest. He suspected she was thinking the same thing.

  Wasn’t it strange that the ring didn’t fit Vanessa, but was somehow perfect on Rachel?

  Chapter 31

  Rachel was frantic. How could she have lost her beautiful ring? And where? She distinctly remembered taking it off yesterday morning before she went to work . . . or had she removed it at work?

  Maybe she’d taken it off when she returned home after that dinner with Ethan Greene on Saturday night. She might have been a little tipsy, but surely not so much so that she wouldn’t remember taking it off. And if she had, then where else would she have put it other than on the nightstand?

  She couldn’t be certain, she admitted, panicking as she checked down the side of the bed and on the floor beneath to try to locate it. After that, she went out into the living room and began turning over all the cushions on her sofa, but to no avail.

  She’d noticed it wasn’t on her finger at the anniversary dinner Stromboli had catered for last night. The happy couple had been married for forty years, and during the speeches Rachel, instinctively imagining her and Gary’s forthcoming anniversaries, remembered looking down at her engagement finger, only to find that her gorgeous ring wasn’t there. She hadn’t been able to relax until she returned home to find out if she’d left it there.

  But since there was no sign of it, she decided now that she must have removed it at the bistro and it was probably in the kitchen there. Perhaps Justin or Terri had spotted it lying around, hidden under a tea towel or a bag of flour or something, and put it somewhere else for safekeeping.

  Rachel took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. That had to be it, she thought, feeling better already. Goodness knows what she’d do if she had to tell Gary she’d misplaced it. He’d go ballistic.

  She’d check with the others at the restaurant today, but first she needed to make an appointment with the bridal store to coincide with her day off next week.

  She couldn’t wait, and still couldn’t quite believe that all this – the New York proposal, huge Tiffany diamond – was truly happening. It was fairy-tale stuff really. This time last year she didn’t even know Gary and look at her now, running a successful business and planning the wedding of the year. It was everything she’d ever wanted – or at least it would be again, Rachel thought, worriedly caressing her engagement finger, once she’d located her ring.

  Looking around her beloved little mews house, she wondered what she and Gary would do about their living situation.

  They’d be moving in together, obviously, but where? They hadn’t yet discussed these practicalities. No doubt they’d start looking for a house in the future, but what to do in the meantime? Gary’s place was too far
out of town for her – she’d not even stayed over at his for months, she thought guiltily – and her own little one-bed house would never be big enough for the two of them.

  Not to mention Gary’s beloved bike.

  He was even talking about buying another one once the money from the accident came through and she groaned inwardly, already having visions of their future home being strewn with engine parts.

  Rachel was in two minds about the lawsuit; once Gary was OK she didn’t think there was anything to be gained from suing the taxi company, but of course she wasn’t the one who’d ended up with aching ribs and concussion. Thank goodness he’d had health insurance, though; who knew what would have happened if he’d had to pay out a fortune for the hospital bills? Her precious ring may well have been making its way straight back to Tiffany’s before she’d even got a chance to see it, she thought, smiling.

  But once the idea of legal action had entered his mind, Gary couldn’t be dissuaded, and apparently his solicitor had readily agreed to take on the case on his behalf.

  Rachel couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor New York taxi driver and she hoped the lawsuit wouldn’t get him into trouble with his employers or, worse, cause him to lose his job. Ethan had mentioned that the man seemed incredibly remorseful at the time, and Rachel really couldn’t see the point in punishing him even further; but it wasn’t up to her and there was no reasoning with Gary.

  ‘Are you mad?’ he’d argued when she’d suggested it might be best to just move on and forget about it. ‘The fool almost killed me! Anyway these guys have insurance for this kind of thing.’

  She also wished Gary would spend less time on pursuing a case against the person who’d hurt him, and instead show some gratitude to the one who’d helped. These musings made her think again of Ethan.

  As she and Gary hadn’t spoken today she wasn’t sure if the two men had been in touch over the weekend. It was so embarrassing having to make excuses for Gary, particularly when Ethan had gone out of his way to follow up on everything afterwards. Terri was right: he was such a gentleman and a kind-hearted old soul. Rachel was amazed by his thoughtfulness, which was all the more impressive considering everything he’d been through.