“My fiancé sent me to see what I like.”
“I see,” he said, but I could tell he disapproved slightly of the break from tradition.
“I mean, unless you have a problem with that,” I added.
“A problem, madam?”
“You seem displeased at the prospect of a woman selecting her own engagement ring.”
The man looked over his shoulder at the manager, an elegant woman with white hair standing behind a case of diamond encrusted tiaras.
“I’m here to help you in whatever way you wish,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, but it was too late. I didn’t want him to show me the rings anymore. I’d already felt self-conscious being there without Rob, forced to pick out my own ring. The last thing I needed was this clerk making me feel bad for it.
“You know what?” I said, deciding to finally take a stand for myself. I knew it was Rob I should have been standing up to, but I was too weak to stand up to him. Instead, I was going to take it out on this clerk.
“Yes, madam?”
“I think I’d prefer to be assisted by the lady,” I said, indicating the manager.
The clerk hesitated, looked at me, and then went over to the manager and told her I required her assistance.
The woman was every bit as stiff and formal as the man had been, but she at least understood the delicateness of my situation and treated me with a little more sympathy.
“May I help you?” she said, approaching from around the counter.
“Yes, I’d like to be shown your engagement rings.”
“Of course,” she said, leading me over to a glass counter with a seat in front of it.
I sat down on the chair and she took her position on the other side of the case.
“Is the ring for yourself?” she said.
I nodded.
“I see, and will your fiancé be arranging for payment or will you be paying yourself?”
“Do women buy their own engagement rings these days?” I asked.
The lady’s face betrayed no emotion, no judgement. She said simply, “Our clients find themselves in all sorts of situations. Sometimes the bride-to-be will come in and buy her own ring, just to avoid embarrassment.”
“You mean the embarrassment of marrying a man who’s not willing to buy her a diamond.”
The lady nodded.
“I suppose, sometimes, the men don’t have the money for a ring,” I said.
“Exactly,” the woman said diplomatically. “They can be very expensive.”
“Well, I do think my fiancé will be paying for my ring,” I said, although I wasn’t a hundred percent certain of that fact. “He just wants me to choose one I like so he doesn’t waste his money.”
“Very well,” she said. “And do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”
“Something classic,” I said. “Traditional. A single diamond.”
“A solitaire.”
“Yes.”
“An excellent choice,” she said. “And I hope you won’t mind me enquiring as to the budget you’re working with.”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Can I look without knowing the budget.”
“Certainly,” she said, “but when it comes to diamond rings, they’re all almost identical apart from the price of the diamond. If you want to spend ten thousand, I’ll show you stones in that price range, if you want to spend less, I can show you smaller stones, if you want to spend significantly more, we have larger diamonds of course.”
“I see,” I said, my face getting red with embarrassment. “I suppose it really is something that he should be here for, isn’t it?”
“In my experience,” the lady said, “the process goes smoothest when the person paying for the ring is present, and they know what budget they’re working with.”
“I see, and what are the cheapest diamond engagement rings you have?” I said, my voice cracking with embarrassment.
The woman didn’t miss a beat. “For a real diamond, we could probably find something very small for about two thousand dollars. But it would be a very tiny diamond. A symbol.”
“But the ring is supposed to be a symbol, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course.”
I looked at her. “And what would you consider a more average price range?”
“Well, our store has a very good reputation,” she said. “Others might be cheaper, but here I would consider ten thousand to be a good budget to get a nice sized stone, good quality, good color.”
“Ten thousand?”
“Ten to twenty thousand.”
“Twenty?”
She nodded. “They’re not cheap, I know. That’s why usually the man comes in by himself and picks out something he knows he can afford. Sending the woman can be dangerous.”
“Why’s that?”
The woman pulled out a drawer and unlocked the glass cover over it. Beneath the glass were a number of velvet-lined compartments, each containing a stunning engagement ring.
“These rings all range between a hundred and two-hundred thousand dollars,” she said.
“They’re beautiful,” I said.