Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Clutching the necklace Warner gave me, I smile half-heartedly. “Nothing to worry about. It’s just crystals or fake stones.”
“Those aren’t crystals. Trust me, Geology was a minor. But I can prove it to you.”
Not crystals? Of course, they are. That would be ridiculous to give someone you barely know an expensive diamond necklace. “Okay, how?”
“I’ll be right back.”
When he leaves, a memory returns of his mother scolding Warner when she thought he’d bought my knockoff ring. I spoke too soon for him to address that issue, but now I’m confident he would have reassured her. The velvet box, the weight of the metal, and the heft of the clear stones. No way. This has at least thirty diamonds, probably more like fifty, wrapped around it.
When Art rushes back in, he holds up a handheld device. “This is a diamond tester. The kids love it when we find real ‘diamonds’ on the playground.” He laughs. “It’s not an expensive machine, but it works most of the time. It often confuses moissanite for diamonds, so I place tiny chips around the playground for the kids to find for us to test.”
“That’s cute.”
“Its accuracy is iffy, but it’s right at least fifty percent of the time.”
“The odds don’t sound good, Art.”
He holds it to my necklace and says, “It’s all we got.”
The machine buzzes, so he moves it to another stone and presses the button again. By the time he’s done, the machine sets off five times. “So what do we think?”
“I think you shouldn’t be wearing that necklace to school, is what I think.”
My jaw drops. “It’s real?” I don’t know how to feel about this information. I’ve loved it since he gave it to me, and figured he paid good money for a solid knockoff, but what kind of money did he pay exactly?
“It’s real, alright.” He stands on the side of the desk and says, “Typically, we find fakes when the person thought it was real. Here you are with the opposite issue.” He heads for the door while I stand there in shock. “Welcome to the Astor Elementary family. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, see you.” I pull a mirror from my purse and hold it up to find a good angle on the necklace. My compact is so small that I can see it—stunning as always—but I can’t get a good look. I tuck the mirror away, wondering if I should hide the necklace in my purse somewhere. Great. Now I feel like I need to protect it or myself. It’s frustrating that I wore it with confidence before without concern. Do I need to fear for my life with this around my neck?
Don’t be silly, Delaney. I can wear it as I have been, just not to school anymore. Sitting at my desk, a different emotion sneaks in. I had no issue taking it with me when I thought it was fake. It’s been my favorite piece to wear day-to-day and was perfect for the two dressier events I attended with Warner. But I don’t think I can accept this gift knowing it’s real. What to do . . .
Arriving at the building fifteen minutes before five, I open the door and head for the elevators. I’ve only been here once before, and that didn’t turn out so well. I’m hoping this time goes better. It should. I’m only dropping off the necklace, and then I’m gone. I can even leave it at reception. No, I probably shouldn’t do that. Well, there is the infamous Jocelyn. I can leave it with her.
I ride the elevator, wondering if she’s as pretty as her name. I’m sure she is. Warner’s probably surrounded by beautiful women. Wonder if stunning and statuesque are requirements on the application, with a photo attached to submit. He probably prefers blondes as well. The opposite of me. Ugh.
The doors open, and I step into the lobby, only to be greeted by Jimmy, who stands when he sees me. “Delaney?”
“Oh,” I say, surprised to see him again. I stop just off the elevator and reply, “Jimmy. How are you?”
He shoves one hand in his pocket, rocking back on his heels, and wiggles the fingers on the other. “Good. Great. Married.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “I remember.”
Snapping his fingers as if he just recalled a memory that had slipped his mind, he says, “Of course. What are you doing here?”
“I need to drop off something for Warner.”
The receptionist stands and says, “Mr. Lange, you can go on back.”
He nods toward the door and asks, “Why don’t you come with me?”
I should hesitate and think twice about walking through that door to surprise Warner like this. Instead, I reply, “I’ll be quick. I’m leaving it with his assistant.”
We start toward the entrance, and when he opens the door, he waits for me to pass in front of him. “I’m sure Warner would like to see you.”