Diamonds are for Surrender. Bronwyn Jameson
caught you on the hop. I should have let you know I was coming in,” Kimberley said with an apologetic smile. “I was just passing, and curiosity got the better of me.” Which was only a small diversion from the truth. “Would you believe I’ve never been in a Blackstone store?”
“Then you have come to the right one. This is our flagship store, the first location we opened almost ten years ago. Let me show you around.”
“Thank you.” Kimberley smiled. “As long as I’m not keeping you from your work.”
“Not at all. Is there anything in particular you would like to see?”
“The pearl-and-diamond pendant in the window. Is that by one of your in-house designers?”
“Xander Safin,” Jessica said with a nod. “His last collection is one of my favourites. Earth Meets Sea. His aim was to offset the brilliance of diamonds from our Janderra mine with the lustre of coloured pearls.”
“If the necklace in the window is any indication, I would say he succeeded.”
Jessica’s pretty brown eyes lit with warmth. “Come upstairs and I will show you some of Xander’s other pieces.”
They spent more than an hour poring over the various designs and designers, comparing their preferences for various cuts and settings. Although her name was familiar, Kimberley didn’t really remember Jessica from school. After doing the math she’d calculated her age as midtwenties, which was young to manage such an important store. She wondered about the other woman’s history, although she didn’t doubt her knowledge of jewellery or her passion for the job.
A like soul, Kimberley thought. A woman she could work with if she returned to Blackstone’s.
“Are you involved with the February show?” Kimberley asked.
A shadow crossed the other woman’s face momentarily but then she looked up, her smile bright and fixed. “Yes. I have been working with Ryan … with Mr. Blackstone. We have some fabulous collections this year. Will you be coming to the show?”
Good question. Would she still be here? Or would she be back in enemy camp and struck from the invitation list? “Well, I hope I’m invited,” she said lightly.
Jessica’s eyes widened in horror. “Blackstone Jewellery was your idea, your vision. Of course you will be invited to the anniversary celebration.”
“I will hold you to that, because I’m really looking forward to seeing the Dani Hammond collection.”
“You are in for a treat,” Jessica said, the glow of a secret smiling in her eyes. “Dani has such a talent for making her designs come to life.”
“I don’t suppose you have anything of hers in store?”
“No, unfortunately. The samples we have for the show are under lock and key and Ryan would have my hide if I showed them to anyone.” Then, as if suddenly realizing what she’d said, her eyes rounded in horror. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I know my brother well. You have cause to look out for your hide.” Jessica looked even more dismayed by that reassurance, and Kimberley scrambled to ease her discomfiture by turning her attention back to the jewellery. “Could I possibly have a closer look at the necklace I pointed out downstairs? The Xander Safin?”
“Of course,” Jessica said with obvious relief. “I will just go and get it for you.”
She returned a minute later with the necklace, which was made up of three broad strands of pavé-set diamonds finished with golden drops of South Sea pearls. “This,” she said, holding it up to Kimberley’s throat, “would look fabulous with your dramatic colouring. With your hair up, a plain strapless gown. White or silver, I think. See?”
Kimberley saw. It was an exquisitely designed and crafted piece. And beneath the bright showroom lights and the gleam of enthusiasm on Jessica’s face, she also saw the shadows beneath her eyes. Jessica Cotter. Suddenly she recalled why the name was familiar—not from school, but from the original passenger list for her father’s fatal flight. This was the employee who had cheated death with a last-minute change of plans.
No wonder she looked fragile.
Something of her thoughts must have shown in Kimberley’s expression, because the other woman’s smile dimmed. A hint of consternation crossed her face as she locked the necklace back in a display case. “I’m sorry. I get a little carried away when I find someone who shares my enthusiasm.”
“Don’t apologise. I was thinking of something else,” Kimberley assured her. “My mind was miles away.”
Jessica looked up, her eyes large and dark and troubled as she discerned where Kimberley’s mind might have been. “Kimberley … please accept my condolences for your loss. I know with the lack of news and everything that’s been written in the papers, this is a difficult time for you and … for all your family.”
“Thank you.” There was little else she could say, and when an awkwardness descended she grimaced at her watch. “I have monopolised you long enough for one morning. Thank you for your time and for showing me through the store. I enjoyed it very much.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“I will call in again.” Kimberley smiled and tucked her bag beneath her arm. “Perhaps next time you can talk me into buying that necklace.”
Jessica returned her smile but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Secrets, Kimberley thought, as she made her way downstairs.
The girl has something going on in her personal life, which is why she missed that plane and why she is still alive and why she has that haunted look in her eyes.
Immersed in her thoughts, she almost ploughed into Ryan coming out the revolving door and moving with his usual bulldog-after-a-bone tenacity. Steadying her with a hand on each arm, he scowled over her shoulder and up at the floor above before focussing narrowly on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“And hello to you, too, little brother.”
The frown suddenly changed tenor, as if he’d shifted gears to finally take in the significance of her presence here at Blackstone Jewellery. “This the last place I’d expect to find you. What’s going on, Kim?”
Eight
After Kimberley admitted that her visit to the Martin Place store was part of an inspection tour of the Blackstones’ business, Ryan walked her back downtown for a tour of the office complex. Ryan, being Ryan, made it the potted version but that was all right with Kimberley. She preferred to make up her own mind, without the rah-rah rhetoric she might have expected from someone like Max Carlton. Or Perrini.
In the high-speed elevator they zoomed their way to the executive floors, and the sudden pitch of her stomach had less to do with that speed than the prospect of seeing Perrini. How adolescent. Kimberley gave herself a stern mental slap but her nervous anticipation only escalated with each passing floor. So much for keeping business and personal compartmentalised. Perrini had always been so much better than her at that distinction.
The lift slowed and stopped several floors short of their destination. Patrice Moore, an accounting whiz she remembered for her expert input on the jewellery store business plan, stepped on board. Her smile was instant, warm, genuine. “I heard you were in the building. Nice to see you back, Kimberley, despite the circumstances.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” the other woman said. “They look after me well.”
The lift pinged open at the top floor, and Patrice offered a few sincere words of sympathy before striding off down the corridor. Ryan steered Kimberley in the opposite direction, away from the offices of the senior executives and toward the boardroom. As they walked she felt his inquisitive scrutiny of her face.
“I