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“A while, Sage. She didn’t want to call you and worry you. She’s old, honey. Almost ninety-one, I think. She’s just tired.” It was obvious to Sage that time had taken its toll on her granny. She was moving slower, seemingly in pain when she stood from her chair.
“Maybe I can get her to retire. I’ll see what I can do.”
But all the pleading in the world wouldn’t make Loretta leave her precious granddaughter and the store she’d struggled to keep alive all these years. Within a matter of months, Granny was gone. The hard work, heartache, and pressure of life had finally taken its toll on her.
“What do you want to do about the store, Sage?” asked Lennox, the assistant manager.
“What do you mean? I’m keeping the store open.”
“I know, but, well, it’s a lot of work, and there have been some men coming around asking about buying the store. It could be very profitable for us, for you.”
“For us?” she frowned.
“Yes. Your grandmother gave all the employees small shares in the business. If it’s ever sold, we’ll get a piece of the profit.” There it was. They probably wanted the store to be sold so they could get their shares in cash.
“I’ll buy your shares back,” she said with a sharp retort. He leaned back, staring at her in disbelief. “If I have to dip into my own trust, I’ll buy all the shares back. I’m not selling the business, but I understand if you’re ready to move on.”
“I-I don’t know about the others,” said Lennox, “but I’d be willing to do that. I mean, I’m kind of ready for something new, Sage. I’ve been working at Symphony for twenty-three years now. Business isn’t what it used to be. We’re competing against high-end retailers, chain jewelry stores, and online stores. We can’t keep up.”
“We’ll keep up,” she said. “I’ll make sure everyone who wants to sell back their shares gets a fair price. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
It took Sage a while to get everything settled from her granny’s estate, but when the storm had calmed, she was able to see that the store was in good shape. It wasn’t great, but they were still making a profit and still able to keep the doors open. She would find ways to modernize their sales and keep the store going forward.
The computer and inventory systems were old and needed to be modernized. The interactions with potential vendors, diamond and gem dealers, and other interactions all had to be improved for them to truly succeed.
When she received the invitation to the Mardi Gras ball at Belle Fleur, she stared at the name, wondering where she’d heard it before. Tucking it in her bag, she didn’t think twice about it.
With Lennox gone, as well as two other staff members, Sage was forced to hire new staff. In her experience, men made better jewelry sales associates than women. A man would listen to another man about what a woman would want in a ring. If a woman gave the same advice, he’d think she was speaking about her personal preference. Of course, there was always a woman there to give a female perspective.
Working with five men and two women seemed easy at first, but the men were pushy and often took meetings with vendors without Sage’s approval.
Walking in to start her day, she noticed Smith speaking to two men, hovering over a piece of velvet holding an array of stones.
When she hired him, she thought it was strange that his name was Smith Jones, but all of his identification verified that it was a real name. He was knowledgeable about gems, seemed to have a great understanding of their computer systems, and was good with the customers. Yet there was always something that nagged at Sage’s gut. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. Something about him that made Sage always take a step back.
“Good morning,” she said, frowning at the men. Smith looked up at her and nodded. The other two men kept their heads down. “What do we have here?”
“Nothing,” said one of the men, folding the velvet around the gemstones and pulling it toward him.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” she said. “Since this is my shop, I know what comes in and out of my shop.” She placed a hand over the velvet, and the man glared at her, sending chills up her spine.
“Boss, it’s nothing,” said Smith. “These guys were duped. That’s all. Bought some jewels for a Mardi Gras crown and found out they’re fake. I was just confirming it for them.”
“Why don’t I take a look?” she said, staring at the men.
“You heard him, doll. They’re fakes.” He glared at Sage, hoping to make her back up. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize that Loretta’s granddaughter didn’t back down from anyone or anything.
“First off, don’t ever call me doll again. My name is Sage Marshall. Call me Sage or Ms. Marshall. But don’t call me doll again. It’s offensive and sexist. As I said, this is my shop, and I know what comes in and out of here.”
The look on the man’s face made Sage’s stomach roil with disgust. He stared at her, looking up and down, then almost through her.
“Meant no offense. Doll. You’re just so tiny, like a little doll. Little thing like you could get hurt real easy or break.”
Sage ignored the man, taking out her prized eye loupe that had belonged to her granny. She leaned over the jewels. These were no fakes. These were diamonds of the highest quality, highest variety. Their cut and clarity were superb. If she were right, they’d been removed from intricate settings.
They were stolen.
CHAPTER THREE
