Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Derrick: Yeah. Maybe. Hugs and talk soon.
I almost tell her about the job but decide to wait until I see exactly what the team is offering in terms of salary and benefits. I might still end up turning it down, and I don’t want to get Evie excited for nothing.
She’s been worried about me finding another job, even though I’ve assured her a dozen times that I have plenty of savings on hand to get me through until I find the perfect placement.
I don’t plan years ahead, like Harlow, but I’m good at covering my bases and making sure I’m prepared in case of an emergency or unexpected change of plans.
With that in mind, I pull into a big box store by the highway on my way out of Syracuse, crazy schemes swirling through my head.
Chapter Twenty-One
Derrick
Inside the massive store, filled with everything from bulk pretzels to thousand-dollar snow blowers and everything in between, I find a swanky chess set in a collectible wooden box in the holiday gift ideas aisle.
Next, I pick up a couple travel books for Gram—she mentioned how much she likes reading them, even though she hasn’t been able to get out of the house much the past few years. I grab Harlow’s dad a six-pack of one of those beers with the weird names that he likes and her mom some pink champagne, the kind the resort is too fancy to carry, but that she confessed she loves.
Alpaca wool scarfs seem ideal for the rest of the family, who I don’t know as well, and a game of portable, foam badminton takes care of Lauren’s kids. I grab Lauren a bottle of wine, too—her husband is arriving tonight, and she’ll probably be ready to have a couple of glasses and unwind—but even when my cart is full and there’s no reason to linger, I find myself wheeling back around to the other side of the store.
And then suddenly, I’m past the eye care center and the pharmacy, pulling up in front of the jewelry cases, some insane part of me drawn to the engagement rings even though I realize I’m completely jumping the gun.
First, you get the girl to agree to date you. Then you spend time together and make sure you’ve got what it takes to make it for the long haul. And then you go ring shopping.
But as I was pinning Harlow to the bed last night, knowing the ring digging into my hand was a sixty-dollar gas station special bothered me. A lot. It was like seeing a supermodel wearing a garbage bag.
Harlow is too chic, stylish, and sophisticated for a garbage bag ring.
And what’s the worst that can happen if I buy something better and offer it as a replacement? She thinks I’m insane, gathers her things, and leaves our hotel room—and my life—forever?
“It’s a real possibility,” I mutter beneath my breath as I survey the small, but classy, selection of engagement rings in the case.
“What’s that?” The redhead in the pink sweater materializes from below the counter, making me pull in a breath and step back. “Sorry,” she says with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was checking inventory. Can I help you with something? Would you like to see one of the rings?”
“If you have anything in a size seven,” I hear myself saying. “If I take a ring back to the room, I want her to be able to wear it right away.”
The woman nods as she inserts the key dangling from her wrist into the lock. “Of course, how romantic! We have a gorgeous solitaire in a size seven. It’s a classic cut with art deco accents in the setting and just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She reaches into the display and draws out the ring that caught my eye when I first pulled up to the case. She sets it on the glass in front of me as she asks, “Does that look like something that might fit your fiancée’s tastes?”
“It’s perfect,” I murmur. “But she’s not my fiancée yet.”
The redhead laughs softly. “Oh, but she will be. Have faith. And if for some reason you need to return the ring, it’s fully refundable with receipt for ninety days. We also have a payment plan if you want to spread the expense over a year or two. Would you be interested in some more information on that? I have a brochure.”
Picking the ring out of the box, I glance at the price tag looped delicately around the platinum band. It’s five figures. Low five figures, but still way more than I should be spending on what’s essentially a gag gift.
But once again my lips have a mind of their own. “No, that’s fine. I have enough to cover it, and that’s about how much I expected to spend.”