I was afraid to even mention it to him. I will count this entire four months with James as a horrible learning experience and the biggest mistake of my life. I need to have faith in myself, and the rest of humanity. Sin has proven that to me over and over again. This one shitty relationship isn’t how people really behave.
The shop owner sets down his single spectacle and hands me back the bracelet. I refuse to take it from him. I have to sell it today. I have no other options.
“Okay,” he says, shaking his head at me before looking away. I detect pity in his tone, but I will take it. I don’t have a choice. “I need the background behind this bracelet. It is so hot, it’s burning my fingers.”
“Hot? As in stolen?” I say in disbelief. “I may be poor, but I’ve never stolen anything in my life.” I shoot him a steely glare.
“Convince me then.” He steps away from the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“My fiancé gave it to me, but I’ve broken up with him.” Or I am in the process of doing it.
“Fiancé? Only people in town who can afford this type of bling are the doctors and their lawyers.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two. And my ex-fiancé is a doctor at The Clinic.” I stand tall, unwilling to back down. This bracelet is mine no matter who paid the bill.
With a huff, he yanks the bracelet off the fingerprint-riddled counter. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this, but you don’t have the look of a liar about you. Believe me, I can spot one clear to Canada.”
“Thank you,” I gush in an embarrassing way. The poor man even gives me a shy smile. If the counter weren’t between us, I would be giving him the biggest hug.
“Well, don’t get too excited, miss. I have to cushion the risk, so my offer won’t be something to shout about it.” My excitement exits with a sigh.
“So how much?” I ask in partial defeat. At least he believes it is mine to pawn.
“Well, first I’m going to tell you what you’re selling.” He dangles the glimmering bracelet from one end and I watch it twirl between his fingers. “950 Platinum metal. Fifty-two diamonds that average a very good score on the cut scale. A total carat weight of over ten.”
“Platinum?” I blame my poor upbringing, but I thought the metal was white gold.
“The densest precious metal for jewelry, making it cost more than gold. I bet your doctor friend paid over twelve thousand for this piece. Maybe more. Are you wanting to sell it out right or pawn it?”
“Sell it, I guess.” I haven’t the slightest idea what the difference between the two is.
“Sell means I buy it permanently. Pawn means it’s collateral against money you’re borrowing. If you don’t pay the loan back, then I keep the bracelet. I figure you wanted to sell out right, but I had to ask.”
“I don’t want to ever see that bracelet again.” I tip my nose up in disgust.
“Well, I can offer you fifteen hundred.” I hear the finality in his voice and realize I need to get my old job back this afternoon if I can. An apartment deposit along with buying a simple mattress will leave me with barely two dimes to rub together.
“If that’s the best you can do.” My question hangs in the air.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this, but something about you reminds me of my own daughter. Grown with children of her own, but she had the same innocent way about her.”
The man reaches under the cabinet and places an official looking sheet of paper on the glass. Even looking at it upside down, I recognize the name of the pawnshop and its logo printed across the top. “I’m going to give you two thousand. Not a damn penny more.”
“Really?” I smile at the generous man so big my face actually hurts. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Just keep what I gave you a secret. I don’t want to look soft.” He winks. My mouth falls wide open as I realize his comment might be sexual. So much for me reminding him of his daughter. But whatever, the weight on my shoulders has lifted knowing I have this much money. It won’t last forever, but it will get me on my feet for now.
“Lips sealed.” I twist my fingers against my lips like I am turning a key. “Your secret is safe with me, sir.”
“You can call me Bob.” He pulls a pen out of his shirt pocket and hands it to me. “Fill out this form. I’ll also need a driver’s license. Government rules.”
I reach down into my old seen-better-days purse and pull out a wallet in the same condition. I remember when my mother bought them both for me. It was for my birthday three years ago. Three years from the day she was murdered. My heart hurts as I take out my driver’s license and place it on the glass.
James kept my memories of her suppressed over the last four months, never letting me talk about my mother or even wear something from my past. But I want to feel and remember. I need to carry her with me and not let her memory fade.
Bob picks up the ID and reads over it for very long moments. He volleys back and forth from the ID to my face.