Page 6 of Christmas Charms
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. If there’s an award for world’s worst poker face, Maya’s the winner, hands down. “Her holiday spirit must have kicked in.”
“She’s not the only one.” Jeremy reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop before dinner? I’ve got a special Christmas surprise for you.”
This is it.
I grin up at him. I’m practically sparkling. “I’d never turn down a Christmas surprise.”
“Wonderful,” he says, releasing my hand to pull on a pair of sleek leather gloves. “You’re going to love this.”
I dig through the pockets of my coat for the mittens my grandmother crocheted for me back when I was in college. I can’t quite give them up even though they’re woefully out of place in an environment like Windsor. But this is date night—we’re not going to Windsor Fine Jewelry.
Except the closer we get to my mysterious surprise, the more familiar the direction we’re heading begins to feel. We pass FAO Schwartz, where the doormen are dressed as toy soldiers and a seven-foot teddy bear looms in the front window, and I can’t help but think about Aidan. I glance at the entrance to the famous toy store, half-expecting to see him still there, arms laden with packages and shopping bags. He’s not, of course, and the keen sense of disappointment that courses through me catches me by surprise.
I take a deep breath and force my gaze elsewhere. Horse-drawn carriages decorated with clusters of jingle bells clip-clop toward Central Park, and the Plaza Hotel stands in the distance with its grand thirty-foot Christmas tree shining bright behind the hotel’s fancy iron gates.
Arewe going back to Windsor?
The store is a stone’s throw away, right across the street. Maybe Jeremy’s forgotten something and needs to fetch it before we get on with the important part of the evening. Or maybe he’s taking me someplace nearby. That has to be it. Windsor isn’t even open this time of night.
But as we near the crosswalk, he takes hold of my mittened hand and leads me straight toward the stately jewelry store. Swaths of evergreen decorate the windows, and a wreath crafted exclusively from bright blue boxes tied with white ribbons hangs above the revolving door at the entrance to our workplace. It’s undeniably beautiful, even for a building I see on pretty much a daily basis.
“Here we are,” Jeremy says, gazing up at the shop windows, glowing gold for six towering stories. “Are you ready for your surprise?”
My breath hitches, and I have a sudden vision of being led to the I Do section and presented with case after case of engagement rings to choose from, like Reese Witherspoon’s over-the-top proposal from Patrick Dempsey inSweet Home Alabama. But wait—didn’t that particular engagement end in disaster?
“I am,” I say, and my breath hangs in the air in a cloud of frost and anticipation.
We bypass the front entrance for the side door the employees use to enter the store, and the same security guard who waved goodbye to me two hours earlier smiles and holds the door open for us.
“Hi, Ashley.” He winks. “Merry Christmas.”
An amused look passes between the security officer and Jeremy, and my face grows hot. Am I supposed to be the last person in the building to hear about my own engagement?
“Merry Christmas,” I say.
The guard nods at Jeremy and glances at his watch. “Everything’s ready. You’ve got twenty minutes.”
“Perfect,” Jeremy’s grin widens and his hand slides onto the small of my back.
I’m getting more confused by the second, especially when he guides me in the opposite direction of the elevators that lead to the coveted I Do section and instead escorts me toward the sparkling glass cases on the first floor sales boutique. Another security guard—Sam, a retired police officer who typically works the overnight shift—is situated by the stationary display case that holds a place of honor at the very center of the room. On my first day at Windsor, I stood in front of the same exact display case, mesmerized by its contents. It’s where Jeremy and I first met.
The case contains a diamond necklace that Audrey Hepburn wore in one of her most iconic movie roles. A still from the movie is featured on the bottom corner of the display, with the necklace’s large center stone—a rare pink diamond—shining brightly from the dip between her collarbones. During store hours, the exquisite piece is always surrounded by a crowd of tourists. It’s strange to see it shining all alone in the dimly lit sales area now.
Even stranger—the door to the case is standing open. My eyes grow wide.
“What’s going on?” I ask, unable to tear my gaze from the glittering pink jewel.
“Your favorite necklace is being moved to the fancy Christmas party upstairs, along with some of our other more extravagant pieces. I know how much you love Audrey Hepburn and all those old movies, so I thought you might like to try it on while it’s out of its case.”
“Seriously?” I blink, and my hands fly to my throat. “Try it on? Me?”
I’m so stunned that I can’t seem to form a full sentence. Somewhere beyond my complete and utter shock, I’m vaguely aware that Jeremy’s surprise hasn’t turned out to be an engagement ring. But that’s okay. I’m going to get to try on Audrey’s necklace—the same outrageously glamorous diamond piece of jewelry that drives scores of visitors to Windsor every day. It’s not as exciting as a proposal, but it’s close.
“Yes, you.” Jeremy shrugged one shoulder. “I checked with the senior manager and he said it’s fine, as long as we’re quick. No pictures, though. We can’t let tourists think they can drop in and ask to try it on. And Sam here needs to keep an eye on us the whole time.”
Sam grins. He knows I loved Audrey. Pretty much everyone at Windsor does.
I nod. “I can deal with those rules.”
