Page 64 of Not Yet Yours

It works. Harriet smiles at me.

“I hope you’re not implying I would skimp on the coffee Mister,” she says.

“Never,” I laughed, holding my hands up in surrender. I turn serious again. “I’m just trying to make you see that I can afford to spoil you and I want to. I don’t have a hope of spending all my money in my lifetime. I donate to charity, I put money aside for if I have kids for their college or whatever and I live a luxury lifestyle and I still won’t come close to it. I have ordered you a credit card to use and if you max it out every day for the rest of your life, I will still be rich. Do you understand what I am saying and why I am telling you all of this?”

“Well, yes, it’s obvious that you just want to show off and make me feel like crap because I don’t have a shit ton of money,” Harriet says.

She looks down at her lap and her shoulders shake slightly. Oh, fucking hell, she’s crying. This hasn’t gone how I wanted it to go at all.

“Harriet no, that’s not what I meant at all,” I start and then she looks up and I see she’s not crying. She’s laughing. She thumps me playfully in the arm, and I relax. She’s just winding me up.

“Yes, I know why you told me,” she says. “But I couldn’t resist that, sorry.”

“I will get you back you know,” I say, and we both laugh. We sit for a minute and then I stand up and offer Harriet my hand which she takes, and I help her up. “Come on, let’s go and choose an obscenely expensive engagement ring.”

“Not too big though, remember I have to carry this bad boy on my finger every day,” she says.

We’re laughing again as we head to the jewelry store and go inside.

“Hello Sir, Ma’am,” a man greets us as we enter the store. “My name is Michael. How can I help you today?”

“We’d like to see some engagement rings please,” I say. “Diamond?” I look at Harriet and she nods. “Yellow gold?” I look at her again and she shakes her head. “White gold?” She nods this time and I turn my focus properly to Michael. “Diamond rings please, white gold. Nothing below a three-carat.”

Michael nods to me. “Would you like something to drink while you try on rings? Perhaps some champagne to celebrate the occasion?”

I look at Harriet and she nods and smiles at me.

“Sure,” I tell Michael.

“Excellent,” he replies and disappears behind the counter and through a door there. He comes back a few moments later with a large tray with a good selection of rings on it as well as two glasses of bubbling champagne. He puts it down on the counter in front of us.

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing one of the flutes and handing it to Harriet, and taking the other for myself.

“To forever,” I hold my glass to Harriet’s, and she repeats me as we clink glasses.

“Do any of them jump out at you?” I ask after we have both taken a sip.

She points to a pretty princess cut ring and Michael slides it out of the little holder and hands it to her. She puts it on, lifts her hand up, and smiles.

“What do you think?” she says.

“I like it,” I tell her. “But I want you to choose something you like because you’re going to be wearing it. Try a few others, see if any look better on than you thought they would.”

Harriet nods and for the next ten minutes, she points at various rings and tries them on while we slowly sip from our matching flutes. She keeps coming back to her first choice and eventually, she runs out of options.

“Definitely this one then,” I say.

She nods.

“We’ll take this one,” I say.

Michael nods and begins measuring Harriet’s finger for the right size. He makes a note of it.

“Will there be anything else today?” he asks, looking between Harriet and me.

“Wedding rings,” I say.

“You’re very organized,” Michael says with a smile.

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