Page 38 of Dark Ugly Places

She looks at it, then looks at me blankly. “What?”

“I need to sell it. Is there a pawn shop nearby?”

Reluctantly, she taps something into her device, and I’m about to snatch her up by the hair from behind the desk when she stands, angles the screen toward me, and shows me a map in bright technicolor, like a TV screen. A little blue line extends from where we are to about two blocks away, down La Cienega. “This is the closest one,” she says. “According to Google.”

“Thanks,” I say and quickly memorize the address. Back in the car, I head down Sunset again toward La Cienega and find the shop. A little black-and-gold awning reads “Russell and Co. Jewelers.”

Inside, everything is dimly lit except for the cases of secondhand jewelry, sparkling with old diamonds, gold, silver. Elevator music plays overhead alongside the noise of the air conditioner unit. My fuck-you-very-much smile is securely on as I tap the glass display case and scan the contents of the engagement rings, none of which look quite as nice as Nicola’s ring.

A small man wearing suspenders and a tie emerges from the back room. “Can I help you find something?”

My left eye twitches. Nicola groans inside of me, but I ignore her.

“No, but you can tell me how much you’d give me for this.”

I place her ring on the counter and watch as the man takes out a monocular and looks at the stone.

“Hmm, nice clarity. Good setting, but I’m sure you know that the resale value of diamonds is quite low,” he tells me.

“Course you would say that.”

He looks up, his expression thoughtful. “I’m just being honest. There’s only so much margin for me on a piece like this. I’ll give you $2,500.”

“No.” I snatch the ring away. “It’s worth at least twice that.”

He laughs a little and glances away, appearing to be thinking. “I could go to $3,250.”

“That’s okay. I’ll sell it to the shop on Sunset and get my price. Thanks for your time.” I begin walking to the front of the store. Just as my hand touches the doorframe, he stops me.

“$4,500, final price.”

I turn, letting my eyes roam the shop for a moment. “$5,500. Final price. You do want to be fair, don’t you?”

He smiles and extends his hands on the glass counter. “All right, $5,000. You have a deal.”

The noise in my head is loud with Nicola screaming as I leave the shop. One thing less of her and Ben but $5,000 richer. She’ll get over it.

I buy groceries—the good ones—like Emmy and Nicola used to get. The car gets a quick wash. My nails and hair get done at a place on Robertson that’s still there all these years later. They don’t remember me, though. Of course they don’t.

When I get home, Emmy is upstairs, and I call her down.

“What is it?” she asks me, lingering at the bottom of the stairs, her computer in her hands. A girl’s voice squawks loudly from the speakers. She lowers the volume. “I’m watching a livestream. CelebrityStalkShow.”

“A live what?”

“A livestream? CelebrityStalkShow is live right now.” She takes me in, a subtle note of surprise coming over her. “Who did your hair?”

“You like it?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It looks good.” A breath. “You seem different.”

“I just needed a little pick-me-up, is all.”

Emmy comes toward me, then passes me on her way into the kitchen, leaving her computer on the counter. She spies the groceries. “Did you get a new job?”

“Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

I pull out two one-hundred-dollar bills and slide them to her across the counter. “Here. For your shoes or whatever.”