Page 103 of Pandora's Pleasure
“Thank you!”
Sprinting, I rounded another cottage and saw a luxury line of stores. Starting at an ice-cream shop, I kept peering through the windows, moving rapidly from one store to another until I’d gotten all the way down the boulevard to a jewelry shop.
Pandora was in there, standing before a glass counter and talking with a woman on the other side. The shop keeper appeared bright and engaging.
Adrenaline continued to surge through my veins.
Taking a calm breath and at the same time finding true religion, I opened the shop door.
The doorbell drew attention as I entered.
I was greeted by a wide smile from Pandora. “Hey, you found me.”
My nod probably appeared out of place, half casual, half subdued panic, as though my mind hadn’t gotten the memo she was okay.
My fiancée stood before me looking devastatingly beautiful and unaware of the dread she’d caused. Her value had always come from her status, the fact she was a Bardot. Now, here, I saw beyond all of that.
She was a sweet-natured girl, kind and worthy of a man so much better than me.
“Find anything you like?” I tried to sound nonchalant to hide how unhinged she’d made me.
She looked sheepish.
The glass cabinet was filled with blue stones, a collection of sapphires and all of them engagement rings. I gave her an inquisitive glance and then flashed a smile at the emerald on her ring finger.
I was suddenly reminded of how I’d thrown that ring at her in the kitchen back in my oceanside home and I squeezed my eyes shut for a beat.
What an ass.
The piece she wore was not even chosen by me. I’d merely had my assistant reach out to her family and inquire as to what kind of stone she favored. They’d told me emeralds. Clearly, they were wrong.
Maybe no one really knew her.
“Sapphires?” I said with a smile.
She touched the emerald self-consciously.
Stepping forward, I peered through the glass. “They’re all impressive.”
“She likes that one,” the shopkeeper said.
The sapphire was small and delicate and not at all what I’d have guessed Pandora would have liked. It was understated.
“Not that one?” I pointed to a larger gemstone mounted upon a platinum band.
“Too flashy,” she said.
“Which one is your favorite?”
“There’s an ice cream store a few doors down.” She wrapped her fingers around my arm. “Shall we treat ourselves?”
“It’s nine in the morning.”
She gave the shop assistant a sheepish glance.
Guilt flooded through me with the realization that I, too, had been cruel to her—treating her the same way everyone else did with a disregard for her feelings. All this time I’d misread her shyness for snobbery.
“I think it’s a fun idea.” I pulled her in and kissed the top of her head, closing my eyes and letting the relief saturate my soul. “Having ice cream for breakfast.”
