,,,A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND

I turn on the morning TV. The story I’ve been expecting is there for all to see and hear; I cringe at the cheerful voice of the announcer.

“Well folks, here’s breaking news about billionaire Jerome Ashland’s engagement to Solaris Harte. After three months of on again, off again romance, Solaris has called it quits. An exclusive source told us the engagement ended early this morning after a huge public brawl at the Miradora Hotel. The couple, who announced their engagement last May, famously showed off Solaris’s thirteen-carat diamond ring, insured for a reported ten million dollars.”

Hands trembling, I click off the TV and sip my coffee. The engagement ring on the third finger of my left hand almost blinds me in the morning sunlight. I absolutely loathe the thing. A thirteen-carat diamond band is, in my opinion, downright vulgar; although I suppose it does make a good weapon; the slash across Jerome Ashland’s cheek can attest to that. I choke back a laugh – it was a doozy of a fight; but my dwelling on what happened won’t solve my current problem with ‘The Ring.’

I examine it again. If it were human I’d swear it’s laughing at me - the huge princess cut golden diamond, rare and perfect, flanked by two small square cuts, also golden. Small? Well I suppose two carats each next to nine qualifies as small. It’s all a matter of perspective.

It’s going to have to go back right away. I can’t send the ring via courier –it’s way too valuable. Return it in person? I wouldn’t get through the door – I already tried to call Jerome Ashland and was cut off by his assistant before I could explain...”

Half an hour later, in my disguise, I slip into the hotel through the back entrance. I’m relieved that none of the staff recognize me as I head for the elevator reserved for Penthouse suite guests. Using my card, I summon the elevator and slip inside. I’m aware of the surveillance cameras, but I’m known at the hotel. I should be OK.

Taking a deep breath, I slide the card through the reader and push the button marked “Penthouse.” As the silver and gold cage speeds to the topmost floor I review my pitiful plan.

Walk into penthouse suite, take ring off finger; place on dresser. Leave.

Reaching my floor, the elevator door slides open. I take a deep breath and head for the bedroom. I reach for the for the door handle…

I come to with my face buried in the carpet. I watch in horror as a small drop of blood drips onto the pristine rug; hazily, beyond the blood, I become aware of a pair of highly polished shoes; my mind registers ‘handmade’ as my eyes travel up the legs and torso of what seems to be a giant bending over me. I groan. “Tell me this is a bad dream.”

“No dream. Are you OK? Who are you?”

“I don’t suppose you would believe room service?” Stupid comment! Am I concussed?

“I don’t think room service wears camouflage gear.”

“It’s a very forward-looking hotel.” Oh, yes, definitely concussed—I’m a jabbering idiot!

“Here, let me help you up.” A large hand appears in front of me, and moments later I’m sitting in a chair holding a cold washcloth against my bloody nose, staring at a complete stranger. He’s tall, dark and NOT handsome. He’s scowling at me.

Who is he?

“You’re not Solaris Harte! “His voice is accusing. “Do you have permission to be here?

“Err – well, not exactly. I’m here to return something Ms. Harte lost.”

“Solaris Harte loses very little and why sneak in to return whatever it is? So what do you have of hers?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” I pull the washcloth from around my left hand and waggle my fingers at him. The damn stone is laughing again, sparkling in the bright light of the room. The hiss of breath he lets out when he sees the ring reminds me I don’t know this man. He could be a thief…

Not with those shoes…

He reaches for my hand “Where did you get this?”

I snatch my hand away.

“I found it.”

“No one loses a ring like this one, how do you mean you ‘found’ it?”

“I found the ring and I’m trying to give it back.”

“You have a strange way of trying to give it back. Sneaking into Solaris’ hotel room. Why not contact Ashland’s office and let them know you’ve got it?”

“I tried that. No one would give me the time of day.”

“Why not go to the police?”

“I’m NOT going to the police! I have a record. I was once arrested on the suspicion of theft; even though I was innocent and proven so. I work evenings at the Miradora, and I have a universal room key card; if there were even the slightest suspicion I might have stolen her ring I’d be fired. Then good luck in me finding another job while I finish school…”

“OK. OK – I understand – no police, or not yet anyway. Tell me how you came to have the ring? But before you start – I’m Nicholas Benedict – and you are?”

“Gillian George”

“Oh two ‘G’s, do they call you “GiGi?”

I glare at him. “No.”

He grins at me and he is transformed. He’ll never be a handsome man but he’s dangerously appealing. I blink. Appealing? How about downright sexy?

“GiGi it is.” He says. Then he turns serious, and ugly man is back.

“Go ahead and tell me how you found the ring.”

“I was just coming off my shift…”

It had been a long night; the hotel was busier than usual and there was a crowd of late-night diners. I stayed to help Joe clean up. I was in the lobby when Ms. Harte and Mr. Ashland erupted out of the elevator. She was screaming at him – something about him cheating on her. He was trying to calm her down. She looked and sounded like she had been drinking…

“Honey…”

“Don’t you ‘Honey’ me you two-timing bastard. “

“I…”

“Shut up, just SHUT UP. I’m tired of all the competition. I don’t care how much money you have. I want a husband who only wants ME…”

She was sobbing, mascara running down her cheeks, she stamped her foot, then took off her shoes and threw them at him. She followed up with a hard slap. Her ring must have caught his cheek because it started bleeding.

He took out a handkerchief, held it to the cut and without saying another word, turned and left the hotel. I followed when she stormed out after him as he started to drive away. She dragged her ring off and threw it after his limo. Screaming: “The wedding’s off. I hope you have a miserable life, you BASTARD!” then she ran back inside, crying…

“I couldn’t leave the ring in the street, so I searched for it. I found it lying in the grass, stuck it on my finger and went back inside. I asked the front desk to call Ms. Harte but she’d left a “Do not disturb” request earlier and they wouldn’t call her. Worse, the person behind the desk was already on the phone with the media – so I went home. And that’s why I’m here now trying to return the damned thing.”

I finish speaking and look at ‘what’s-his-name?’ Benedict Arnold? No that was someone else – I have it - Nicholas Benedict. He has his hand in the inside of his jacket. Oh god, was I wrong? He IS a thief, and he’s got a gun…

As I cower in my chair, he pulls out a leather card case, extracts a card and hands the card to me.

With trembling fingers, I take the cream oblong from him and try to focus on what’s printed there: Benedict Enterprises, Insurance Investigators. Nicholas Benedict, Principal.

“Insurance Investigator? Wait, how did you know it was missing? Ms. Harte only got rid of the ring less than ten hours ago. How come an insurance investigator is involved already?”

“She left Ashland a rude voicemail. He hired me to recover the ring. If I succeed, I get ten percent of the insured value.”

“One million dollars?”

“And I’ll give you a share for being honest. If you hand it over to me, I’ll give you a hundred thousand!”

One. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars? I could finish college without having to work to earn tuition. This HAS to be a scam...

“Ashland’s given me eight hours. If I can’t get the ring to him by then the deal’s off.”

“I don’t understand – surely, won’t his insurance company pay him if the ring isn’t found?”

“Apparently the ring has sentimental value. He’s hoping to get Solaris to reconsider. He wants to make a grand gesture this evening.”

“But you just told me he didn’t believe she didn’t have it anymore.”

He glowers at me. “Sometimes it’s best not to ask a client too many questions. He wants the ring back. He hired me to find it for him. Whatever he does after that is not my business, or yours.”

“Tell you what.” I say, “If you can prove to me, you are who you say you are, and Mr. Ashland hired you, I’ll give you the ring; but I’m coming with you when you return it and if you are going to give me a reward, I want that in writing.”

“Good for you not to blindly trust me,” his delicious grin reappears, “Let me see if I can get Ashland on a video call. You can stay off camera, but I want him to see the ring.”

Moment’s later Jerome Ashland’s face appears on Nicholas Benedict’s cell.

“Yeah, Benedict. Any news?’

“Will you verify this is the ring?” Nicholas pulls my hand in front of the camera. The diamond flashes fire.

“My God, that was fast! Yes that’s the one. I’ll send someone to pick it up right away.”

“No need to send anyone. I’ll be at Ashland Towers in forty minutes.” He finishes the call and turns to me.

“Convinced?”

“Convinced!” I reach for the ring to pull it off my finger.

It doesn’t budge.

Ten frustrating minutes later I’m still trying. We’ve used soap, hand-lotion, spit, nothing works. My finger’s beginning to swell.

“It’s not coming off, and I am NOT coming with you with this on my finger. My whole idea was to keep this low key!”

“I’ll explain everything for you.”

“NO! You’re going to have to come up with some other plan…”

“This is not a good idea.” I whisper to an amused Nicholas Benedict as we walk into a jewelers shop mid-town. After much arguing I’ve agreed to have the damn ring cut off my finger.

“It’s the stones that are so valuable, not the setting.” Nicholas tells me “Don’t worry about it, GiGi.”

“My name is Gillian,” I snarl as an elderly clerk appears, and shuffles behind the counter.

“How can I help you folks today?”

Nicholas gives our agreed upon spiel to the jeweler. He’s proposing to his girlfriend tonight, and his sister (Me!) insisted on trying it on and now it’s stuck.

I hold out my hand. The swelling has lessened but it’s clear the ring is caught fast.

“My, My, that’s one fancy ring!”

The jeweler prods my finger.

“I think I can get your ring off without having to cut it loose.”

We both look at him as if he’s crazy.

“How on earth…? I start to ask. He pats my hand and says

“An old trick my mother taught me.” He looks at Nicholas.

“It’s going to cost you a hundred dollars.”

Nicholas reaches for his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill.

“If you can do it, this will be worth every penny; but what if you can’t?”

“If I have to cut the ring apart it’s still a hundred dollars. Now young man –you stay here while I take your sister in the back and get this ring off.”

He motions me to follow him into his inner sanctuary.

“Sit over there whilst I get what I need.”

I do as I’m told and a minute later he’s back holding a threaded needle. He winks at me.

“It’s simple. I almost feel bad about making your brother pay for this,” he says as he performs an almost magic thread and needle trick and slips the ring free

“Works every time. Here, let me clean off the soap scum.”

He takes the ring and pops it into a jewelry cleaner. Two minutes later he brings the bauble back to me. He’s frowning.

“Tell your brother, if he wants to impress his future wife, he’d do better to give her a real engagement ring and not a copy of Solaris Harte’s ring. That ring is too well known.“

“What do you mean ‘a copy?”

“Well, I admit it’s well made; but to a trained eye there’s a huge difference between a chemically colored zirconia and a golden diamond. You should suggest he give this to her as a birthday present and buy her something genuine for her engagement ring!”

My mouth is open. “It isn’t real?”

He smiles at me and pats my hand again.

“Well, if you can’t tell then perhaps his fiancée won’t be able to either – but I wouldn’t count on it, and that would be a hell of a way to start a marriage!”

I stand up and he hands me the ring, now in a small plastic box.

“Thank you.” I say as he waves me back into the shop.

I walk over to Nicholas and push him towards the door.

“Nicholas… “ My voice is urgent, “Nicholas– we have a problem.”

“He says it’s a fake?”

We’re sitting in a coffee shop around the corner.

“He didn’t exactly say ‘fake.’ The word he used was ‘copy.”

“Same difference. It can’t be Solaris’ ring.”

“It’s the ring she threw after Mr. Ashland last night.”

Nicholas slouches down in his chair, frowning. Funny, he no longer looks ugly to me. Now his face is interesting.

“Do you think Solaris knows the ring isn’t real?”

“I don’t think so. That fight wasn’t fake.”

“Tell me—when I showed Ashland Solaris’ ring, did you notice his reaction?”

“On the phone? He looked anxious to get it back. He was focused on the ring and its return. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m beginning to suspect that Ashland knows the ring isn’t real and he doesn’t want anyone to know – especially Solaris.”

“You mean that he’s willing to pay a million dollars to return a ring to him that’s a fake? Come on, a cheap ring is not what a billionaire gives his fiancée! Or do you think Ashland’s lost all his money and he’s hiding the fact?”

Nicholas shakes his head.

“His money’s intact. This has to be something else.”

“How can we find out?”

“It’s simple. I’ll ask him!”

The man behind the desk is every bit as good-looking and charismatic as his photos, even with the cut on his cheek.

He leaves me cold.

Nicholas explains why I’m here, gives Ashland the ring and asks, “Why did you give Solaris a fake diamond?”

For a moment there is shocked silence. Then Ashland sighs.

“I thought Solaris was after my money,” Ashland says quietly. “So, I gave her a fake ring. Last night I realized I was wrong. I needed the ring back before she found out.”

Our plastic box with the fake ring is on his desk. He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a Tiffany box. He opens the box and pushes it across the desk. There in all its glory, is an exact replica of the stuck ring. It’s just as ostentatious, just as vulgar; but sitting beside the imitation it adds its own sparkle of tastelessness.

“I plan on giving it back tonight. If she’ll have me…” He makes it sound like a sure thing.

“Now about your finder’s fee…My Admin has a check for you. Our agreement was one million for the return of the ring. I never expected you to realize it’s a fake. Give me your word this goes no further?”

Nicholas nods and the two men shake hands.

I’m sitting there gaping.

Ashland turns to me.

“Now about your payment…”

I’m appalled. “I don’t need payment for returning something that wasn’t mine—and before you offer, I don’t need money to keep my mouth shut. I’ve already forgotten everything.”

“Then let me say thank you from the bottom of my heart and I hope that you both will attend our wedding.”

He escorts us to the door.

His admin is waiting with an envelope she hands to Nicholas. He slips it into his inside pocket and offers me his arm.

“Where are we going?” I ask, as he leads me out into the late afternoon sunshine.

“We’re going to discuss your share of the finders fee.” I open my mouth to protest and he stops, pulling me around to face him. I start to speak but before a word gets out, he puts his hand over my mouth.

“GiGi…”

“My name is Gillian!” I mumble from behind his hand.

“OK, Gillian. We are going to discuss your share of the finder’s fee. Then you are going to tell me all about yourself and I’m going to tell you all about myself. By the way, I’m not married. You?”

I shake my head.

Nicholas removes his hand and we stand staring at each other for a moment until he bends down, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me.

When the heart-stopping kiss is over, I stare up into his face wondering how I could ever have thought he was an ugly man.

He’s just...lovely.