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With a brusque nod, I take a deep breath and follow him to the register. He’s not exactly to blame, I know that. I’ve been here for over an hour trying to find a ring for Jane. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. Even if the wedding is fake, she should have a real ring to show the camera—and all the socialites that will be invited to our engagement party. Rich people never doubt money. If they see a big rock sparkling on her finger, they won’t question the fact that they haven’t seen her around or that our engagement was all a bit sudden. Money never lies.
Max offered to swing by the store and pick one up, or I could have just sent Agnes. But I thought I’d do it myself. It’s just a ring, right? It shouldn’t take long. Except I couldn’t find anything I liked. The poor sales associate had already shown me dozens of rings before I finally saw it. A cushion-cut aquamarine stone, surrounded by pavé diamonds and set on a diamond-encrusted band. Elegant, simple, and the exact same color as Jane’s eyes.
I wasn’t sure of her size, but there was only one available anyway. We can always come back if it doesn’t fit, and they’ll order a new one.
Finally, the sound of clacking heels approaches from the back room, and the other sales associate appears with a small bag tied off with a bow. “Here’s your package, Mr. Green.” She places it delicately on my hand like a precious treasure.
“Thank you,” I say before dashing out of the store. If I don’t get home fast, this fake engagement might just be over before it starts.
“Sorry I’m late,” I pant, jogging across the backyard. I called in the car to let Jane know I was on my way, but she wasn’t very talkative. I’m guessing she’s mad at me. “I’m here.”
I take a moment to survey my backyard, which has been transformed into a professional photo studio. There are big lights on top of poles and a scattering of equipment on the floor near the pool.
“Hi, I’m Colton. Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say, shaking both the photographers’ hands. They smile politely and start to get ready. Turning around, I face Jane, and to my surprise, she doesn’t really seem bothered by my tardiness.
“Are we ready to do this?” she asks, jumping to her feet. “I hope you won’t be as late to the wedding.”
Okay, maybe she’s a little mad.
“I got you this,” I whisper before planting a swift kiss on her cheek. My lips burn at the contact, and it might have left a trace, because she’s rubbing the spot on her cheek. When I hand her the gift bag, her lips pull down in a frown.
“What’s this?”
“Your engagement ring.”
Her face doesn’t reveal any expression as she pulls the small box out of the bag, but when she opens it, a gasp hits my ears. She stays silent, her gaze fixed on the ring.
I scratch my head. “Do you like it?”
“Please tell me this is some cheap knockoff, and you just got the packaging from the store,” she hisses in a low whisper.
I draw my eyebrows together. “What? Of course not.”
“Colton!” She scowls, grabbing a handful of my jacket. “I can’t accept this. Why would you even buy this? We’re pretending, remember?”
“It needs to look real,” I say in my defense. “We’re having a photoshoot. They’re going to want to see the ring, and so will the people at the party. Trust me, those ladies can tell if a diamond is fake.”
She relaxes a little but shakes her head. “This is crazy.”
“Just wear the ring, and let’s get this over with. They’ve been waiting for long enough,” I whisper before turning to the photographers. “I’m sorry. I just picked it up from the jeweler’s. We were having it resized,” I explain, hoping that the damn ring fits.
By some kind of magic, it does, and it looks even better on Jane’s delicate finger than it did in the store.
“Okay,” Amanda chirps. “I say we get started. First, let’s do a few just looking at the camera. Jane, place your hand on your fiancé’s chest and show us that ring.”
I naturally place my arm behind her, and she does as Amanda asked. Jane’s hand is way too close to my heart, and I briefly wonder if she can feel it pounding like a sledgehammer.
“Great,” Amanda says. “Now, hold hands and face each other?”
Swallowing hard, I take Jane’s hand, and our eyes lock. Her flawless beauty hits me in full force once again. I know she’s an actress, but I wonder whether she’s ever modeled or considered that career path. A face like hers should be on every billboard and magazine cover. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she squeezes my hands, her way of reminding me to smile and act the part. Though I’m not sure what more I could do to look infatuated with Jane at this point. She makes it incredibly easy.
“Beautiful,” Amanda coos, clicking away. Next, I make Jane twirl as if we were dancing, and it makes her laugh as she plays along. The sound is incredibly contagious.
After a while, Amanda scrolls through the shots on her camera screen. “Perfect. Can we do a few kissing?”
13
Aquamarine
