“Remind me to seriously thank Evelyn for recommending you,” Amari said, heavily panting as we wandered the parking lot to our cars after a five-mile run around Echo Park Lake.
Chuckling, I wiped the sweat off my face and guzzled down half a bottle of water. “I’m taking it you approve of today’s routine?”
“Absolutely, man. You threw in cardio at different times, and that's exactly what I need. My last trainer didn't seem to understand that. He was so focused on keeping me bulked, stamina and speed took a backseat.”
“Noted. We’ll change it up every week or so, but cardio stays a priority, unless specified otherwise.”
We fist bumped as Amari tipped his dark head and took a long sip from his bottle.
“So, I’ll see you Wednesday?” he asked, unlocking his car.
“Without a doubt. Same time, same place,” I agreed.
“Sounds like a plan. See ya around, bro.”
“Later.”
With a click on the fob, I slid into the driver's seat of my 4 Series and turned her on, the engine roaring to life under my heavy foot. Amari honked and I waved before he drove off, feeling more than just accomplished after our first session together. Aside from training Hazel, I usually felt like the end of a workday was just another day, another dollar. Sure, there were clients I actually had a good time with, but there was always that handful that made this a job rather than something I loved doing. Given how today went, I was pretty sure Amari was going to be one of my best clients, and I’m not saying that because of how much he was paying me. For a public figure, an NFL player no less, Dorsette was laidback and a lot more chill than you’d think. I’d been nervous I was somehow going to fall short with what he was looking for in a trainer, but it turns out I’d brought my A-game without even knowing it. Felt damn good knowing I could do this and my already fan-fucking-tastic mood lifted all the more, my blood still rushing through my veins from pushing myself to the limit during that run.
Turning up the volume on the radio, “Wild Thoughts” bumped through the speakers as I drove out of the parking lot and made a right onto Echo Park toward US-101. The road seemed endless, limitless, even with light evening traffic, and soon, I was rolling through the palm tree-lined streets of L.A. in a daze I couldn't control. I’d planned to go straight home and regale Hazel with the details of my day over dinner, but somehow, I found myself driving toward Beverly Grove, and on a whim, with no attached explanation, I pulled up in front of Tiffany & Co.
Yes, that Tiffany’s.
Flinging myself back against the seat, I stared at the building in befuddlement and let out a flustered sigh.
What the hell am I really doing here?
Riding the high of impending success, that's what. I couldn’t help it. The future just looked so fucking bright and part of that future was my girl. I wasn't lying when I said I'd seen her as my wife. In fact, that's all I could see. Her and I, married, kids at some point, too. The whole package. Looking at few rings was how one worked toward that package, right? And it couldn’t hurt to just look. No one had to know I was here and at the very least, I could start narrowing down what I’d think she’d like and what I’d know she’d hate.
Before I had the opportunity to convince myself this was a bad idea and change my mind, I killed the engine and made a beeline for the front door. A burst of cool air slapped me in the face as I stepped further into the sleek shop. All I could see were dollar signs.
“Welcome to Tiffany’s,” a young woman said in a clipped tone.
My eyes darted to where she stood in her prim and proper attire. You could see the judgement swirling in her baby blue eyes as they raked over me, taking note of all the ink on my skin. Chicks like her usually assumed I was on parole or some shit like that. Nevertheless, I flashed her a curt smile and made my way toward the circular display case in the center of the room. For some reason, it caught my eye most. Bright lights illuminated what laid inside the glass, allowing each diamond to shine all the more. Everything looked expensive as hell, and the more I looked, the more I wondered if Hazel would even like anything like this? She wasn't the flashy type in the slightest. Something big and ostentatious would probably piss her off. Didn’t women go batshit crazy for that little teal box though? Was the appeal behind the brand itself? The quality? The style? I had no fucking clue what I was doing. Should I leave and come back with Luis another day; you know, for back up?
“Can I help you with anything, sir?” the same saleswoman asked, her tone more intrigued than coarse this time around.
“Yes, actually. I’m a bit intimidated by the selection. I don’t even know where to start, much less what to pick.”
“Worry not, Mr.…”
“Carr. Knox Carr,” I said, extending my hand.
“Worry not, Mr. Carr, I can help you find the perfect one. I’m Claire, by the way.”
“I appreciate it, thank you, Claire.”
“What's her style?” she questioned, gazing upon row after row of sparkling rings.
“Laidback, mostly casual, given her profession. She cleans up beautifully, though.”
“Hmmm, I assume she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry then?”
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“In that case, the bigger, more intricate pieces will probably overwhelm her, and you don’t want that. How about something more simple? Something...timeless?”
Timeless.
I liked the sound of that. A lot. Giving her a quick nod, Claire smiled and motioned me to follow her with a tip of her blonde head, to the other side of the circular case. She brought a pink polished finger down onto the glass, pointing to the group of rings beneath.
“These right here are very simple, as you can see, but they still make a statement. The bands are a solid metal, bringing the main focus to the diamond, and you can choose from platinum, yellow gold, or rose gold. Do you think she'd have a shape preference for the stone?”
“I don't think so, but something tells me the classic round shape on a platinum band would be a winner.”
Claire fished out a ring of keys from the outer pocket of her light gray blazer and unlocked the case, pulling out the very ring I’d been eyeing. You would’ve thought the thing was made of glass as she handed it to me, carefully placing it in my palm to allow me a closer look. With six prongs holding the diamond up high, it almost resembled an octagon when the light reflected off of it. Very Hazel, if you asked me. It was also very simple, but my girl was simple in the best way possible, and if I had to imagine a certain type of ring on her finger, this is probably what I’d envision.
“Any idea on carat size?” Claire went on as I inspected it closely.
“Nothing too big, but not too small either.”
“I'd recommend a 1.5 or a 2. Anything over two carats starts bleeding into gaudy territory, especially if she has small hands.”
“She's tiny all around,” I explained, placing the ring back in her hand.
“Then a 1.5 will probably be best. It'll look large on her hand, but not exaggeratedly so. This one here is 2.5, so imagine a diamond about half this size.”
Not too shabby...
“Alright, so 1.5 it is then. What's the price tag?” I went on to ask, nervously I might add.
“With a modest wedding band, which I'll show you here in a moment, you're looking at about fifteen.”
15k... Ouch.
With all the money I’d been saving over the years, I knew I could afford it, but fuck, that’s a lot of money. Claire didn’t say a word as I contemplated what to do. I could very well leave and spare my savings from taking a hit, but something about this ring made it impossible to say no...
“I'm good for it,” I started, looking her dead in the eye, “but I can't take it home today. If I leave this store with that in my pocket…”
“You'll want to give it to her. I understand completely, sir.” She smiled. “You can pay for it up front, or we offer different payment plans. Either way, with a deposit, we’ll hold it for you until you're ready.”
“That I can work with. Okay, so the ring itself is sorted. Talk to me about the band.”
“Personally, this thin infinity band right here would complement the style you chose beautifully. The diamonds wrap around the perimeter hence the infinity namesake and although they're smaller, they still offer that bling women think of when they imagine a set on their finger. Here's what they look like together.”
I was awestruck as she pulled out the band and held the two rings together. They fit seamlessly against one another and it wasn’t difficult to picture them sitting on Hazel’s finger. She was right… They were perfect.
“I’ll take them,” I said without hesitation.
Claire beamed a bright smile and set the rings into the small tray she’d brought out from underneath the display case. “Right this way, Mr. Carr. Let's talk payment plans, and then you can decide what you'd like to do.”
I followed behind her silently, trying to mask the surge of excitement that had quickly consumed me. If Luis were here, he’d probably try to talk me out of it and tell me to shop around, to take my time coming to a decision, but sometimes you just know when something is right. And this was so fucking right. Spur of the moment or not, this was the ring I’d eventually propose to Hazel with. When that was, I wasn’t sure, at the moment, but at least I knew when the time came, I’d be ready in all aspects.
After talking sizes, exact price, and payment plans for half hour or so, I finally walked out of Tiffany’s with one piece of the puzzle locked in place. I’d chosen to pay it off over the next several months, mostly because I didn’t think I was capable of hiding it and forgetting about it for an undeterminable amount of time. There was also a chance Hazel could find it when she went on one of her OCD cleaning rampages, which was often. The rings were simply safer at the store, as was the integrity of the surprise itself, and Claire made it clear they’d hold it for as long as necessary.
Just as I was sliding in behind the wheel, my phone vibrated in my pocket, to which I assumed was more than likely my girl. I’d told her this morning I’d be home around seven, and it was now almost 8:15.
But as I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, I realized it wasn’t Hazel.
Brie: Pun is pissed. Pixie is too. So, I just want to apologize. I was out of line the other night. I guess seeing how you’d really moved on hurt more than I thought it would and I thought maybe I could remind you about the good times we had.
This girl just wouldn’t take the hint, and it was really starting to wear on my last nerve. Whether Pun and Pix had made her feel like shit for what she’d done or not, there was absolutely no need for her to text me; especially when I’d basically told her to leave me the fuck alone. But as I’d told Hazel that night, Brie was stubborn and she wasn’t one to give up easily. Good thing I wasn’t either.
Me: Out of line doesn’t cover it. Just stay away from me, stop texting me, and we’ll be good.
Brie: Why can’t we be friends?
I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
Me: Simple. Because I don’t wanna be.
Brie: Did you even love me?
Me: Yes, I did...past tense. Goodbye, Brie.
Brie: So you mean to tell me you still don’t feel anything for me?
Me: Not a damn bit. Once again, goodbye, Brie.
Hopefully she’d read the message loud and clear this time; though, I knew the likelihood of that was one in a million. I guess we’d just have to wait and see how things played out...