“Don’t you dare take that dress off.”
Her eyes snap back to mine. “Wha—”
I close in behind her, reaching into my pocket to pull out the gift I purchased at Harry Winston earlier in the day. I bring my arms around her, letting the diamond collar rest against her neck.
Her chest rises and falls as she looks in the mirror. “Holy. Shit. Please tell me those are CZs.”
“Afraid I can’t do that, babe.”
Her eyes widen so much that I’m a little worried she’s going to hurt herself. She lifts a hand to her neck after I engage the clasp, but her fingers stop short of touching the diamonds.
“It’s not going to bite.”
She spins around to face me. “Please tell me it’s rented only for tonight, and you’re taking it back tomorrow.”
“Afraid I can’t do that either.”
“You have to take it back.”
Now the conversation is growing tedious. “It’s not going anywhere but around your neck.”
“Why in God’s name would you spend that kind of money on me?”
“Because I can.”
“Are you trying to make me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”
I look at her, confusion flooding me. “What are you talking about?”
“The movie. Pretty Woman. She’s a hooker and he’s a millionaire. There’s this scene with a necklace. It’s pretty freaking famous, Crey.”
“I don’t see the comparison. You’re not a hooker; you’re my wife. I can buy you whatever the hell I want. That’s my right,” I say.
To myself I add, Including a fucking record label.
Holly slips around me and stalks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Pressing a hand to the glass, she stares down at the lights of the city and off toward Central Park.
I follow her. “It’s only money, Holly. I’ve got plenty. If I want to spoil you, I will.”
Once again I’m taking in her reflection, but this time, there are tears running down her face.
“Whoa. Why the tears?” I lay my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me. My thumbs catch the drops as they fall. “If you hate it that much, we can get you something different.”
Holly reaches up and moves my hands away from her face before using the side of her index finger to swipe away the remaining moisture without destroying her makeup.
“God, I’m sorry. I’m a frigging disaster.”
“You’re beautiful. As soon as I saw you standing in front of that mirror, I knew I’d never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.”
Her lips wobble into a sad smile. “And here I was looking in the mirror, thinking that the only thing that would make this dress more perfect would be my gran’s pearls that my gramps brought her home from Japan after the war.” Her smile falters and disappears. “But that can never happen now.”
“Why not?”
“Because the sheriff called to tell me that apparently when they picked Mama up for her B&E, it was actually her second trip into Gran’s house, and she’d apparently just come back from the pawn shop.”
“What did she take?” I ask, hating Holly’s tears and the crazy feeling of helplessness they give me. Whatever her mom took, I’ll get it back if the police haven’t already.
“From what the pawnbroker said, most or all of Gran’s jewelry. The jewelry that I was too careless to get a safe deposit box to store because I assumed it was safe locked up and hidden in her house. But Mama knew where the special hiding spots were, and she wasn’t shy about snatching it. She probably thought she was entitled to it anyway. She was her mama, after all.”
“So if the pawnbroker reported it to the police, then they recovered it already?” Confusion edges my tone because I feel like I’m missing something here.
Holly shakes her head. “No, the pawnbroker didn’t realize it was stolen until he heard about my mama being arrested today when he was at bowling league. He sold her locket, her earrings, and the pearl necklace.”
My confusion gives way to anger. “Shouldn’t he be held responsible by the police? They have an obligation to hold things for a period of time to ensure they’re not stolen, I thought.” I don’t know the ins and outs of the pawn business, but I would assume that’s the smartest choice.
Once again, Holly’s face falls. “He didn’t even consider it was a possibility. My mama probably sold him some line of bull. I don’t know. But they’re gone.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Gran was the first person in my life to actually give a shit about me, and I feel like I’ve failed her again.” Her whole body is racked with shudders.
“Holly—” I say, trying to interrupt and calm her down, but she doesn’t stop.
“It’s not about the jewelry, that’s just one more example of how many bad decisions I’ve made. Leaving her with my mama to go on the show . . . that was the ultimate mistake. I made that choice. I decided to take my one shot. And it cost me everything that mattered. When am I going to stop messing up?” She turns and presses her palms against the glass again.
I step behind her and wrap my arms around her middle, pulling her back into my body. I want to hold her up, infuse her with my strength.
I hate seeing this strong woman edge toward breaking. The first time she told me the story about her grandmother and what happened, I watched from the sidelines while Holly grieved. I’m not willing to remain on the sidelines ever again when it comes to her.