reminders of the man aren’t going to give me the space I need to get myself off the emotional teeter-totter. And you know I can’t go back and handle my feelings for him without dredging up some balance.
Especially after his possessive Neanderthal approach to my trip.
“Andie?” the woman at my side asks, concern in her voice.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh! I’m so sorry. Your comment made me think of something, and then my thoughts just stole away with me.”
She chuckles. “My darling Howard is a lot like your Max, if I do say. I used to have trouble keeping track of my thoughts, once upon a time too. I don’t mind changing seats with him so you two can sit together for the rest of the flight.”
I fight the wince with everything I’ve got. “Max isn’t mine. He’s not my boyfriend.” And how do I feel about that? Hmm . . . “He didn’t come on this trip. You don’t have to change seats.”
“I’m surprised. Don’t you two work together?”
Do we? Together? Really? Or do we just butt heads? “We do cohost the shows, but we’re not joined at the hip.”
“He has gone with you to Burma and . . . was that Tibet?” “Close. Kashmir.”
“That’s right! The old sapphire mines.” She holds out her right hand to admire a stunning and substantial ruby ring. “I wouldn’t have minded a Kashmir sapphire, but I do love this ruby I bought after your trip to the Mogok Valley.”
I check out the piece. She’s not hurting for funds; the stone’s one of the finest ones we brought back from that ill-fated trip. I remember its price tag for its slew of zeros. “Congratulations. That was one of my favorite pieces.”
“You know the individual stones?”
“I picked out the rubies myself at the vendor’s office.”
“And you remember each stone? I’m impressed.”
“Many gemstones have thumbprint-like characteristics.
Rubies fall in that group. Since I handpicked the stones, I spent a good chunk of time studying each one. It’s not hard to remember the best ones, and yours is one of the best we bought.”
“Oh my. I loved it the minute I saw it, but now I know I have something really special.” She gave me a sly look. “Like you and Max do.”
“No, really. We’re not . . . not—” What are we? I can’t even say what we’re not, since I have no idea what we are to each other. “Look, he’s not my boyfriend or anything like that. The squabbling you see onscreen? Well, it’s for real. He came to our network knowing nothing about gems. He made me nuts with his ignorance—the arguments were really real.”
She patted my arm with the hand sporting the spectacular Burmese ruby. “That might have been the case on the surface, but take it from someone who’s been married for fifty-two years. That kind of . . . oh, I guess you young folks call it ‘chemistry’ these days, is rare. Don’t cheat yourself out of a great partnership and a spectacular romance. The boy’s crazy about you, you know.”
No, I don’t know. And that’s why I don’t get to dump my flapping chicken wings and clucking. But I don’t need to share that. I shake my head. “Ah . . . it’s for the camera’s sake—” Her laughter cuts off my protestation. “Keep telling yourself that, Miss Andi-ana Jones. Just remember this: if you let Max Matthews slip through your hands, you’ll spend the rest of your life kicking yourself.”
Oh, what a pretty picture of foot to butt— not .
Since she doesn’t get the hint from my drawn-out silence and stare fixed on the screen but instead continues to study me, I shut down my laptop and scrabble around my Max-invaded head for a new topic.
In my role as super-saleswoman for the S.T.U.D., I remember I’m on a business trip. And this woman is a loyal customer. “How do you feel about emeralds?”
She shrugs. “I can take them or leave them.”
Just what I’d hoped for. “Oh nonononono! That’ll never do. Let me tell you about emeralds. Carat for carat, and
Especially after his possessive Neanderthal approach to my trip.
“Andie?” the woman at my side asks, concern in her voice.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh! I’m so sorry. Your comment made me think of something, and then my thoughts just stole away with me.”
She chuckles. “My darling Howard is a lot like your Max, if I do say. I used to have trouble keeping track of my thoughts, once upon a time too. I don’t mind changing seats with him so you two can sit together for the rest of the flight.”
I fight the wince with everything I’ve got. “Max isn’t mine. He’s not my boyfriend.” And how do I feel about that? Hmm . . . “He didn’t come on this trip. You don’t have to change seats.”
“I’m surprised. Don’t you two work together?”
Do we? Together? Really? Or do we just butt heads? “We do cohost the shows, but we’re not joined at the hip.”
“He has gone with you to Burma and . . . was that Tibet?” “Close. Kashmir.”
“That’s right! The old sapphire mines.” She holds out her right hand to admire a stunning and substantial ruby ring. “I wouldn’t have minded a Kashmir sapphire, but I do love this ruby I bought after your trip to the Mogok Valley.”
I check out the piece. She’s not hurting for funds; the stone’s one of the finest ones we brought back from that ill-fated trip. I remember its price tag for its slew of zeros. “Congratulations. That was one of my favorite pieces.”
“You know the individual stones?”
“I picked out the rubies myself at the vendor’s office.”
“And you remember each stone? I’m impressed.”
“Many gemstones have thumbprint-like characteristics.
Rubies fall in that group. Since I handpicked the stones, I spent a good chunk of time studying each one. It’s not hard to remember the best ones, and yours is one of the best we bought.”
“Oh my. I loved it the minute I saw it, but now I know I have something really special.” She gave me a sly look. “Like you and Max do.”
“No, really. We’re not . . . not—” What are we? I can’t even say what we’re not, since I have no idea what we are to each other. “Look, he’s not my boyfriend or anything like that. The squabbling you see onscreen? Well, it’s for real. He came to our network knowing nothing about gems. He made me nuts with his ignorance—the arguments were really real.”
She patted my arm with the hand sporting the spectacular Burmese ruby. “That might have been the case on the surface, but take it from someone who’s been married for fifty-two years. That kind of . . . oh, I guess you young folks call it ‘chemistry’ these days, is rare. Don’t cheat yourself out of a great partnership and a spectacular romance. The boy’s crazy about you, you know.”
No, I don’t know. And that’s why I don’t get to dump my flapping chicken wings and clucking. But I don’t need to share that. I shake my head. “Ah . . . it’s for the camera’s sake—” Her laughter cuts off my protestation. “Keep telling yourself that, Miss Andi-ana Jones. Just remember this: if you let Max Matthews slip through your hands, you’ll spend the rest of your life kicking yourself.”
Oh, what a pretty picture of foot to butt— not .
Since she doesn’t get the hint from my drawn-out silence and stare fixed on the screen but instead continues to study me, I shut down my laptop and scrabble around my Max-invaded head for a new topic.
In my role as super-saleswoman for the S.T.U.D., I remember I’m on a business trip. And this woman is a loyal customer. “How do you feel about emeralds?”
She shrugs. “I can take them or leave them.”
Just what I’d hoped for. “Oh nonononono! That’ll never do. Let me tell you about emeralds. Carat for carat, and
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