Chapter 1 - Mim
I’ve worked at Sterling & Stone since I started uni. A luxury jewellery store situated across from a newsagent and wedged next to a clearance shoe outlet in a shopping centre in my hometown. Pristine glass counters, silver trays, white gloves. It’s a contradiction of sorts, like a pearl in a parking lot. Inside you hold your breath in anticipation for that happy ending that diamond rings promise.
Outside it’s back to reality with a piercing scream from a runaway toddler and the steam from a coffee machine. The background is an incessant hum of people walking and talking and going about their lives, creating this overwhelming cacophon. It doesn’t make you wonder why almost every person working in the centre takes their breaks outside of it.
My mum has been pushing me to move on ever since I graduated two years ago. She thinks I’ll get stuck polishing someone else’s ring for the rest of my life, rather than working on getting my own. She owns a boutique a few blocks down in the laneway next to the bank. She named it after herself because everything always ends up centred around her.
I grew up watching her work, managing, organising and running the show. I tried to fit into her shoes as she always intended for me to, following in her footsteps to girl boss her way to some ambitious top, but a part of me still feels more like the girl behind the fitting room curtain; half-dressed and hoping no one looks behind the façade.
Working at Sterling & Stone gave me the freedom from my mum that I was always seeking; money, reputation, network. It also got her off my back for a while about building something for myself, that is until I graduated. I can’t blame her for having high hopes for me. My brother, Beau, says she just pushes me so I don’t end up stuck like him. He’s three years older but not so much wiser. He’s always been better at interpreting her. More patient. More willing to play translator between expectations and love, but he’s stuck in our grandfathers workshop interpreting car parts after he quit school, after he took a 2 year gap year, after he dropped out and did his high school certificate online. You can imagine how mum talks about him at the dinner table.
I idolised him when we were kids. Still do, even when I shouldn’t. That’s the thing about family—once the pedestal is built, it takes a landslide to bring it down.
It’s Thursday, late night shopping. It’s when all the other people who work 9-5 outside of retail and hospitality get to do all the things they can’t do when their days are filled with meaningless and monotonous tasks. Thursday nights tend to only be busy for us when it’s close to a special occasion; Mothers Day, Valentines Day, Halloween, you’d be surprised how many weddings people have on the spookiest night of the year.
Reed’s humming to the obscure jazz music that plays from the black speakers in the corners behind the back counters. It’s hard not to notice the things he does, the way he moves, the way his brow focuses or his face smoothes. I mostly pretend not to notice him half the time and catch myself watching him the other half. He’s worked here for the last year and we’ve always gotten along well as he is close to me in age, good at his job and I can put up with his arrogance.
Reed Mitchell makes every fiancé uncomfortably insecure and every fiancée second guess their life choices. He could flirt with his eyes closed and undress you with his hands tied behind his back. He oozes sex, masculinity and charisma. He was designed to be the main character in every straight girls fantasy and he knows the lines off by heart.
Two teenage girls browse nearby and ask Reed if they can try on some bracelets. As he talks them through options for matching charms, I touch the necklace I wear, the only piece of jewellery I own despite my employee discount. A thin gold chain with a small letter M.
My attention drew to a young woman at the counter closest to the entry. She was already tap, tap, tapping at the glass case filled with delicate necklaces, like a child left alone with a fish tank.
“Please don’t touch the glass.” My instincts took over, and I leaned towards the counter space just as a man entered, standing behind the woman with a look of mild concern.
“My apologies,” he said, his voice still and deep. “Maggie has a love for shiny things.” He bent down to eye level with the woman. “Safe hands, Maggie. Let’s check out the scratchies over there.”
They left, the man offering a half-hearted apologetic wave on his way out, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise as his eyes looked past me. I watched them leave, so intrigued by the man – how alluring his features were and how obvious his presence had felt, like it absorbed the space in the room. A warmth passed across my neck as I heard Reed whisper my name.
“Mim, everything alright?” I turned to look at him, my eyes gazing up into his, while his eyes watched the duo depart.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “Do you know that man?”.
Reed’s eyes finally met mine. ”No, never seen him before.”
With that, he returned to helping the girls choose their bracelets as I retrieved a cloth to wipe the smudges from the glass case.
