with their Upper East Side apartment, a cottage on Shelter Island, and all the furnishings, clothes and jewelry, which is where Michael came in.
Her husband, while wealthy, was too cheap to pay retail. If Lesley Branfield fell in love with a ring, or a pair of earrings, or a beautiful necklace at Cartier or Tiffany, they would borrow it (you’d be surprised at what the jewelry stores do for their wealthiest, well-known customers), photograph it, and take the photo into the back room at Jordana & Jackson, where Michael could create an exact replica for a fraction of the price.
The rich may like the best of the best, but they still love a bargain.
And since the divorce Lesley Branfield had decided that rather than do an Ellen Barkin and sell everything, she would simply remodel, thereby eradicating any painful memories that may have come with the original jewelry.
“I’ll phone her and tell her it’s ready,” Jordana says. “She’ll be so happy. Oh Michael, you’ve done a really beautiful job. Thank you.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Michael smiles, turning to get back to work.
“So how’s everything going with your new girlfriend?”
He shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?” Jordana laughs. “That doesn’t sound so good. What’s going on?”
In different circumstances it might perhaps be odd for the boss to be talking to her employee about his love life, but since they opened the second store in Manhasset Jackson has been spending more and more time there, and Jordana has found herself turning more and more to Michael for help with the store.
Of course there are others—the two sales assistants who work in the store—but she would never really talk to them, would never ask their advice; and there is something calming about Michael, something that makes her want to open up and confide in him, and she has found herself forming an unlikely friendship with him. For the first time in years she has found herself looking forward to getting in to work.
Not that she doesn’t like her job—she and Jackson decided, even before they got married, that they would create a line of high-end, affordable jewelry stores, which is exactly what they are beginning to do—but the Manhasset store had been Jackson’s baby from the outset, and she had felt, left on her own in the Madison Avenue store, that life had become a bit dull.
Which is why she is so enjoying this friendship with Michael. Sometimes they have lunch together, a sandwich in the staff room usually, occasionally walking over to the park if the weather is nice enough. It is just lovely to have someone to talk to again. To have a friend at work.
“No, better than okay,” Michael says. “I really like her, it’s just . . .”
“Not the one?” Jordana smiles.
“Oh God,” he groans. “I feel like every time I meet girls who are really great it’s just a matter of time before I start to find problems with them, and then after a while I start to think that maybe it’s not them, maybe the problem is with me, and that I’m the one who needs to work through it, and so I stay in these relationships but I can’t commit and then they start accusing me of being a commitaphobe and all I want to do is run as far away from them as possible.”
Jordana starts to laugh. “Do you think perhaps that’s a sign that you are a commitaphobe?”
“Which bit?” Michael grins. “The running away from them as far as possible bit?”
“Well, yes.”
“Hmm. You think?”
“What do you think?”
“Me? I think I’d love nothing more than to find a wonderful woman, a true partner in every sense of the word, who I could spend the rest of my life with. I just don’t think I’ve found her yet.”
“And this . . . Aisling?”
Michael nods.
“Aisling couldn’t be the one?”
Michael sighs. “She’s doing that changing thing.”
“What changing thing?”
“You know. That thing where on the first few dates they act as if everything you do is
Her husband, while wealthy, was too cheap to pay retail. If Lesley Branfield fell in love with a ring, or a pair of earrings, or a beautiful necklace at Cartier or Tiffany, they would borrow it (you’d be surprised at what the jewelry stores do for their wealthiest, well-known customers), photograph it, and take the photo into the back room at Jordana & Jackson, where Michael could create an exact replica for a fraction of the price.
The rich may like the best of the best, but they still love a bargain.
And since the divorce Lesley Branfield had decided that rather than do an Ellen Barkin and sell everything, she would simply remodel, thereby eradicating any painful memories that may have come with the original jewelry.
“I’ll phone her and tell her it’s ready,” Jordana says. “She’ll be so happy. Oh Michael, you’ve done a really beautiful job. Thank you.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Michael smiles, turning to get back to work.
“So how’s everything going with your new girlfriend?”
He shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?” Jordana laughs. “That doesn’t sound so good. What’s going on?”
In different circumstances it might perhaps be odd for the boss to be talking to her employee about his love life, but since they opened the second store in Manhasset Jackson has been spending more and more time there, and Jordana has found herself turning more and more to Michael for help with the store.
Of course there are others—the two sales assistants who work in the store—but she would never really talk to them, would never ask their advice; and there is something calming about Michael, something that makes her want to open up and confide in him, and she has found herself forming an unlikely friendship with him. For the first time in years she has found herself looking forward to getting in to work.
Not that she doesn’t like her job—she and Jackson decided, even before they got married, that they would create a line of high-end, affordable jewelry stores, which is exactly what they are beginning to do—but the Manhasset store had been Jackson’s baby from the outset, and she had felt, left on her own in the Madison Avenue store, that life had become a bit dull.
Which is why she is so enjoying this friendship with Michael. Sometimes they have lunch together, a sandwich in the staff room usually, occasionally walking over to the park if the weather is nice enough. It is just lovely to have someone to talk to again. To have a friend at work.
“No, better than okay,” Michael says. “I really like her, it’s just . . .”
“Not the one?” Jordana smiles.
“Oh God,” he groans. “I feel like every time I meet girls who are really great it’s just a matter of time before I start to find problems with them, and then after a while I start to think that maybe it’s not them, maybe the problem is with me, and that I’m the one who needs to work through it, and so I stay in these relationships but I can’t commit and then they start accusing me of being a commitaphobe and all I want to do is run as far away from them as possible.”
Jordana starts to laugh. “Do you think perhaps that’s a sign that you are a commitaphobe?”
“Which bit?” Michael grins. “The running away from them as far as possible bit?”
“Well, yes.”
“Hmm. You think?”
“What do you think?”
“Me? I think I’d love nothing more than to find a wonderful woman, a true partner in every sense of the word, who I could spend the rest of my life with. I just don’t think I’ve found her yet.”
“And this . . . Aisling?”
Michael nods.
“Aisling couldn’t be the one?”
Michael sighs. “She’s doing that changing thing.”
“What changing thing?”
“You know. That thing where on the first few dates they act as if everything you do is
Similar Books
