Page 13 of Reeve

“I wantreal,” says Sawyer. “I want the real deal.”

“Stop fucking around,” I mutter to Rufus. “We can pay for a nice ring.”

“Fine!” he says, leading us to another counter. He pulls a ring from under the glass. “Neil Lane. Pear-shaped. One and a half carat diamond, set in fourteen carat yellow gold.”

“Wow,” murmurs Sawyer, taking the ring from Rufus and holding it up to the light. “That’s…wow—that’s beautiful.”

“It’sokay,” I say, looking at Rufus. “How much?”

“Pear-shape isn’t as popular anymore as it used to be. But that ring still retails for over six thousand dollars in the Lower 48.”

I clear my throat. I am pretty certain that six-thousand dollars is far outside of Sawyer’s comfort zone. His eyes flick up to Rufus. Rufus stares at him, glances at the ring, then huffs in surrender.

“Fine. We’re old friends. You can have it for four thousand two hundred.”

I narrow my eyes at Rufus, doing some quick math in my head. If he’s willing to give it to Sawyer for thirty percent off, surely he’s willing to sell it for forty percent off. After all, pear-shaped diamonds are no longer popular, and not to mention, it’s off-season. He’s not going to make a ton of sales between now and April.

“Thirty-six hundred,” I say. Rufus jerks his head up to frown at me. “And not a penny more.”

“Reeve!” says Sawyer. “I want it.”

“Shut up, Sawyer,” I say, eyes locked with Rufus.

The old Scotsman grins at me, wider and wider, until he’s outright chuckling. “Damn, Reeve Stewart, but I like yer style! When’ll ye come and work for me, lass?”

I smile back at him. “What do you say, Rufus?”

“Fine, fine, fine. Thirty-six it is,” he says, plucking the ring from Sawyer’s hand. He takes it over to a counter where he polishes the ring with a cloth before writing up the sale.

“Probably could’ve gotten it for thirty-two,” I murmur to my brother.

“You did great!” says Sawyer, giving me a hug. “Almost fifty percent off!”

“He probably paid three thousand and not a penny more,” I say.

“You ever think of going into sales, Reeve?”

“No,” I say, looking up at my brother. “It’s always been healthcare for me.”

“Healthcare? We run a tourist business. Are you talking about the EMT stuff?”

“The EMT ‘stuff’ has always meant more to me than the tourism stuff,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess I sort of sensed that.”

His understanding gives me courage.

“I’m going to college, Sawyer,” I tell him, the words surprisingly easy after keeping them a secret for so many months. “I want to be a nurse.”

“A nurse! That’s great!” he says, grinning at me with pride. “Have you started applying? When will you go? Next September?”

I shake my head. “January.”

His smile quickly fades. “Wait. January?Next monthJanuary? What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to Anchorage,” I tell him. “I applied for the program over the summer and got a scholarship to the University of Alaska. I start in January.”

“In Anchorage.”

---