I took the items I wanted to the register to pay. Evidently it was a good shopping night. I ended up with the dress, two blouses, a pair of slacks, and a skirt that had a tasteful ruffle at the hem. Andrea thought it was sexy without being cheap. Hmm…all these pieces were the ones she liked. My shoulders sagged. Damn. She dressed me again, and used my distracted state to keep me from noticing one of her favorite habits. No wonder she was such a successful attorney.
The sales woman smiled the total at me and politely took my debit card out of my hand. My consolation was seeing Andrea pay more for the blouse she liked than I had paid for my dress and skirt together.
We exited Nordstrom on the second floor, which put us on the upper level of the mall. As we strolled along looking in the shop windows, our conversation turned to Sarah and Greg. Andrea knew Sarah only because of what I said about her. She knew Greg because the nature of her job had her socializing from time to time with the very wealthy, though she'd not actually met him.
"If I were you I don't know if I'd be going home tonight."
"I'll be fine," I said, convinced I would be.
I looked over the walk-way railing to the shops on the first floor and toyed with other ways to spend money. Then I caught sight of a familiar figure and ricocheted sideways, nearly knocking Andrea down.
"It's Greg!" My voice was a frantic whisper. I grabbed Andrea as much to steady myself as her. "He's downstairs right outside of Tiffany's."
She glided to the railing and peered down, then dashed back to me.
"Oh shit," she whispered.
"What's he doing?"
She glided back over and watched again for a moment then came back to where I cowered in the doorway of a candle shop.
"He went inside." Her voice was barely audible. "What do you suppose he's going into a jewelry store for?"
I ventured a guess. "Jewelry?"
She gave me a skinny-eyed look.
I worried my bottom lip, straining to see over the railing. My feet refused to move any closer. "We should watch and find out where he goes when he comes out."
"Right. Wait. What if he sees you? I know." She glanced around. "Go sit over there by the coffee shop. I'll sit there on the bench where I can watch the store and pretend I'm on my cell phone."
I hurried to the bistro table and perched where I could see her. She arranged herself on the bench, crossing one long leg over the other, swinging her un-businesslike stiletto from her toes. She looked for all the world like she was enjoying a conversation with a friend. And if Greg saw her, her legs would keep him from looking in my direction.
At last Andrea stood and casually strolled toward me, still engrossed in her "phone call." She sat down at the table and put her phone away.
"He came out," she said, her eyes danced.
"He's not coming this way, is he?" I pulled my feet under me, ready to run.
"No." She waved her hand to her right. "He went toward the parking garage."
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd held.
"He had a little bag with him, took something out – a box – and what appeared to be a receipt and put them in his coat pocket. Then he threw the bag in a trash can. I think it's safe to go to Victoria's Secret now."
"Why would he buy jewelry…? Come on." I pulled her to her feet. "The sexy underwear's going to have to wait."
"Hold on a sec. Where are we going?"
"To Tiffany's." With Greg safely gone, the excitement of the hunt put a grin on my face. "We're going to do some detective work."
"Oh no. In the movies this sort of thing always ends up in a car chase and shoot-out. Need I point out that we are not armed and with your car we'll have no hope of escaping?"
"Oh come on. I just want to get a little information." I headed off toward the stairs to the first floor without her. Andrea scurried to catch up, as I anticipated, and fell into a pouty silence. Also as I anticipated.
When we reached the store she grabbed my arm and stopped me. "What exactly are we going to do?"
"I need to find out what he bought. Follow my lead and agree with everything I say."
"No problem." Her tone was as sour as her expression.
Only one clerk was present when we walked in, and I made a beeline for him.
"Welcome to Tiffany's. How may I help you?" He cocked his head attentively.
The well-dressed, pleasant-looking man was perhaps in his mid-fifties, with hair graying at the temples, neat hands, and a bird-like mien. I produced my most dazzling smile and set my Nordstrom shopping bags conspicuously on the counter, just to make sure we came across as Women With Money.
"I think my brother may have come in here a little while ago, and maybe bought a ring."
"We don't give out customer information," he said, no longer cocking his head.
I pretended I hadn't heard the comment. "He's thirty-two, six-foot, has on a gray suit and light tan trench coat." I wasn't sure what a "sisterly" description could get away with. But Andrea saved me. In my heart I knew she wouldn't be able to resist a bit of intrigue.
"She didn't mention how handsome he is. But then I guess sisters never think their brothers are good looking, do they?" She actually winked at the guy. "He's got dreamy eyes, perfect hair, and I'd kill for a manicure like that." She fluttered her eyelashes and sighed like she was describing a rock star.
"You don't look anything like him," Mr. Observant said to me. "You're a brunette. The gentleman I may have noticed had light brown hair with blond highlights, and like your friend said, a much better manicure." He cast a judgmental glance at my hands.
"I resemble our father's mother, although we do have the same color eyes." I crossed my arms, tucking my hands out of sight.
"No, I think his were more blue-gray. Yours are definitely green."
"Contact lenses."
"I see," he said.
I doubted it. I don't wear contacts.
"The point is," I continued, "Grandmother has a ring Grandfather gave her, and she wants Greg to have it for his fiancée. If he already bought her a ring I'm going to have to figure out some way to break it to Grandmother." I bit my lip and gave him an imploring, desperate, and worried gaze.
"Are you sure you're his sister?" he asked, looking at me sideways.
"Of course I'm sure," I said doing my best to sound offended.
"You're not his fiancée?"
"Oh, please!" Andrea rolled her eyes and leaned toward the man, as if to share a confidence. "Do you honestly think a guy that good looking would go for Miss Plain Jane here, even if she got her cuticles fixed and wore a little polish?"
"Oh, well, you have a point," he said, eyeing me in a peculiar avian manner.
I stared, openmouthed, at Andrea. She shrugged.
"Yes," he continued, finally buying my story. "I'm afraid you're too late. He was in a little while ago and returned an absolute stunner of a ring he bought last Saturday for a much simpler piece. It is lovely, though." I doubted he believed what he said. He looked like he'd just tasted something bitter-like a smaller commission. "A brilliant cut, white diamond solitaire, slightly under a carat, set in white gold."
"Oh dear," I sighed, trying for the right display of disappointment. "I suppose I'm going to have to break the news to Grandmother. Thank you for your help."
"Of course," Mr. Observant Bird said.
"'Miss Plain Jane'?" I huffed at Andrea when we left the store.
"Oh, come on, Thea. The guy was so gay he wouldn't know a good-looking woman if she bit him on the leg. Besides, you got the information you wanted, didn't you? I didn't know you were such an accomplished liar."
"I learned from the best." I shifted my shopping bags and patted her back.
"And that is why I am such a hot attorney," she replied, laughing. "So, who did Greg buy the ring for?"
"Well, I'm fairly certain the one he returned is the one he had with him Sunday morning at Copper Creek. But he's obviously gotten himself a new engagement ring. Do you think Melanie is forcing an issue with Jacquelyn?"