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After a few minutes of silence between us, Jonas Gisler, the store manager, came to unlock the door.
As I entered behind Ryan, the time on the wall clock read ten exactly. Gisler was Swiss and proudly precise, I’d learned earlier.
Ryan went directly to the ruby counter.
I waited.
“Mrs. Winterbourne, what may I help you with today?” Gisler said with his Teutonic smile.
Surprise overcame Ryan’s face. “I was here first,” he announced loudly.
Gisler was unmoved as he continued to watch me for a response to his question. My status as a repeat customer seemed to trump Ryan’s position in line.
I pointed toward Ryan. “It’s Spencer now, Mr. Gisler, and he’s right. He was first.”
Gisler’s smile broke down to a mild grin. “As you wish.” He moved to the ruby counter. “What may I help with today, sir?”
Ryan pointed through the glass. “I’d like to see that one, please.”
I shuffled closer, pretending to scan the cases for a purchase.
Gisler pulled out a ruby necklace with a huge heart-shaped stone, set in a circle of diamonds, and laid it on a velvet mat.
Ryan looked at it, perplexed. “No, that won’t do.” He didn’t bother to check the price tag as any normal person would. “Let’s see the next one over.”
Gisler complied, bringing up another gorgeous necklace.
Ryan shook his head.
“Perhaps if you were to tell me your parameters, I might recommend a few pieces,” Gisler offered.
Ryan ignored him and pointed to another necklace and then two more. None of them pleased him.
Gisler sighed. “Perhaps a feminine perspective might help? Mrs. Spencer here has exquisite taste.”
I blushed at the compliment.
“Sure,” Ryan said, casting a glance my way.
I moved next to him, but avoided eye contact, lest I freeze up. “I’ll try, and it’s Miss.”
“I don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “I’m due in court soon.” His body heat became perceptible as he shifted closer.
“A lawyer, huh?”
He tugged at his collar. “No,” he said curtly, my hint to shut up.
That explained why he seemed uncomfortable in his expensive suit. A lawyer also would have used a page of words instead of one.
A quick peek at the tags on the necklaces he had chosen first showed prices from forty to seventy thousand. This was one lucky woman.
“Special occasion?” I asked.
“Her birthday,” he replied, choosing more than a single-word answer this time.
“Mr. Gisler, those three in the back, please.” I pointed out three more modest stones than he had originally chosen, a little less ostentatious, more ruby and less diamond surround.
I’d checked his left hand earlier, no wedding ring, which most likely meant special girlfriend gift. If he went too big now, he’d have a hard time topping it with the engagement ring.
