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“I think at this point, you can call me Danhy. We are going to be family after all.” Holding the door open I usher him inside.
“That is, if my sister says yes. She has other choices, you know. She may decide to return back to Russia with me and pursue something else. What then?” His smug face looking like a boxing bag right now. Taking a deep breath, I try to remind myself my nephews will kill me if I get into a fight and break all of their display cases. Not to mention the fact that Sheriff Leif would not appreciate being taken away from his wife Maddy to come let me out.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Babichev, there is no other option. Zoya belongs with me and to me. Even if she decided to go back to Russia, I would follow her stubborn ass there and bring her back here. You got it now?” I grunt out trying to keep my voice down as we wait for the new girl behind the counter to finish up with her other customers. I note that Anatoli hasn’t said anything. I look over and his eyes are firmly planted on Nikole, the new girl. She is laughing as she finishes out an order with a male customer and as she throws her head back, Anatoli’s jaw tightens, and his hands ball up into fists. Interesting.
“I’m sorry about that, gentlemen. How may I help you?” Nikole addresses us.
“Who the hell was that man touching your arm?” My head turns towards Anatoli, I’m sure shock is pasted on my face at his audacity. A quick glance in Nikole’s direction and her face mirrors mine.
“I’m sorry, he was a customer, but what does that have to do with anything? Are you here to buy something?” She asks her hands on her hips and a clear attitude.
“You better…” he begins to say before I interrupt him. I don’t want to be here all damn day.
“Hi. My name is Danhy Jorgensen. I am the uncle of Torran and Sven. Are either one of them here today? I need to get a ring from the vault.” Her eyes get big as she realizes who I am.
“Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry, sir. No. Both of them have the day off today. However, I don’t want you to worry. They told me all about the vault. If you give me one second, I will open it and be back with the case.” She walks away to go to the back room. As soon as she leaves the room, he turns to me, a look I have seen before in his eyes. I had it the first time I laid eyes on Pixie.
“I need her. What do you know about…Nikole?” He asks me, urgency in his voice.
“I don’t know anything about her. My nephews just hired her a few weeks ago.” His shoulders lag a bit.
“No worries. I will find out everything I need to, new brother.” He looks me in my eyes. “I believe you love my sister and that she loves you. As long as you take care of her and promise to never hurt her, you won’t have any objections from me. Besides, looks like I will be spending more time here than I thought.” He pats me on the back mumbling that last part.
“Ok. here you go.” She places the case of our family jewels before me and opens it. I look through decades and decades of family jewels. Earrings, necklaces, and rings that aren’t engagement rings. Then I spot it. It is located to the left of the case, sitting inside of a gold box with rose gold leaves etched into it. It’s like it has been waiting there this whole time for Zoya’s hand to slide into it. I pull the note from it, curious as to which ancestor this belonged to.
According to the history card, this ????´??????? ??????´ (Russian for engagement ring), was given to my ancestor Annika Brovia. She was a Russian chamber maid to my Jorgensen ancestors. Their son Rune fell in love with her and asked her to marry him after only knowing her a week. She said yes and the rest, they say, is history. He presented her with a 2ct round arabesque rose gold ring. I pick it up and I can envision it on her finger as she rubs her burgeoning belly, smiling at me as I chase our other kid around the room. God, I want that.
“I will take this one,” I tell Nikole as I show it to Anatoli. He glances at it briefly, before once again turning his attention back to her. Her face I notice now is bright red, his scrutiny finally touching her.
“Very well, Mr. Jorgensen. Do you need any special engraving or anything?”
