If Dominic were here… If Tolyan were here…
Stop it. They aren’t here. It’s up to me now. I can’t let Andy hurt Kristen any more than he already did. Dominic adores her. I have to keep her safe.
Come on. There are guns in the penthouse. But my hands shake at the thought. It’s one thing to shoot at a target, something else to point at a human being and pull the trigger. I’m such a coward. My mouth is so dry that it takes two tries before I can say, “Leave the remote with the concierge. I’m going to call them down there and confirm. After that, you can come up to the penthouse.”
“How do I know you aren’t going to call the police if I do? You let me up, and I give you the remote.”
“My offer’s final!” I say firmly. Or I try. I think I sound hysterical instead.
“So is mine. I don’t give a shit if Kristen dies today. I can get you later. You know it’s true.”
I open and close my hands, then press both of them against my temples. I don’t know what to do. I can’t think of a way out of this.
“Come ooooon, Elizabeth. I’m getting impatient,” he says in a singsong voice.
I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing. The only thing I know is that I can’t let Kristen be hurt.
“You can come up,” I say finally, typing frantically but surreptitiously on the phone. I don’t want Andy seeing me texting. “But if you don’t give me the remote, you’ll regret it.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dominic
Bach’s elegant string music reverberates from the speakers in the jeweler’s shop. Priceless diamonds and other gemstones sparkle in glass cases, but I dismiss them all, since I’m not here to pick out one of the generic ones from the display. Antoine looks at a platinum and diamond pendant, whistling at the price tag.
A sharply dressed clerk comes over, a professional smile on her face. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to pick up my order. Dominic King.”
“Certainly, Mr. King. Please take a seat.”
“I’ll stand. We’re in hurry, so if you could bring it out ASAP…”
“Of course, sir.”
She walks away, heels clicking contrapuntally to the Bach. An uncharitable part of me sighs. If she’d worn flats, she might be able to move faster.
Tolyan texted me and Antoine on our way to the jeweler, saying he needed to go to the hospital regarding his son. I respect and understand that—this is his teenage son we’re talking here. But the fact that Liza’s home alone is making me antsy.
My preference would’ve been to turn the car around and go straight to the penthouse, but Antoine pointed out, “Weren’t you going to propose this afternoon? Can’t do that without a ring.”
“I don’t want her alone.”
“We’re five minutes out from the store. Tolyan said she’s going to sit tight and wait until we get home.”
I debated. The stop at the jeweler would add only ten minutes to our trip back home, so I said okay. But I can’t help the fluttery feeling in my gut. I rub the back of my neck, and Antoine bumps me with his elbow.
“Don’t sweat it. She’ll say yes.”
“It isn’t that. I don’t—”
The clerk returning with an elegant black box stops me. She opens the case, showing me the ring inside.
It’s exactly as I specified. A ten-carat pink princess-cut diamond on a simple platinum band, inscribed with My Angel, My Heart, My Love. The stone sparkles brilliantly. I wanted something as perfect as Liza herself, and this was the closest thing I could find. I can’t wait—a romantic sunset cruise along the coast, then me bending a knee and asking her to make me the luckiest guy in the universe. I don’t know yet if I really deserve her… I’ve been such a bastard, but if she gives me a chance, I’m going to make her the happiest woman in the world.
“Holy shit. That isn’t a ring. That’s an assault weapon,” Antoine says.
“Shut up.” I hand the woman a black AmEx card. I wish I’d carried enough cash to pay the balance; we could’ve been on our way that much faster.