Ē Sliver Bracelet

Chapter 1

I stared at the glass panel silently.

It shimmered. Like the colours of a rainbow; like a roller coaster – it has ups and downs. The cutting was just perfect, not some brilliant cutting; that would be too extraordinary, too perfect. I just wanted to be normal, be an ordinary person. I brushed my fingers on the glass panel as I closed my eyes. I could almost touch it. Feel it. It was smooth. Perhaps the staff had it polished every few hours. After all, they had to create the sophisticated and elegant image to match the beautiful diamond, didn’t they?

Soft piano music filled the air. I recognized it immediately. Clair de lune by Claude Debussy. “M’am? Would you like to buy the Diamonté IV?” It’s carved in France, Paris, along with the strict supervision of British professional diamond specialist Dr. James Whitney,” the woman eyed me as she continued, “Yes M’am?” The woman was wrapped in a Brooks Brothers suit and a black pencil skirt. Her brunette hair was tied into a tight ponytail. I hesitated. “I really don’t think so…” I passed her back the brochure she gave me when I first stood at the entrance of The Diamonté. Raising her eyebrow in slight amazement, she gave me one of those looks, as if hinting that I should not waste anymore of her precious time. She must have been curious why I was standing outside The Diamonté for fifteen minutes, touching the glass panel surrounding the diamond like some maniac if I was not intending to buy the lovely diamond. “Hey M’am, would you please just leave?” the staff‘s tone became nothing more than annoyance. By-passers looked at us in astonishment. Perhaps that was how people were- so carefree, that they have all the time in the world, staring at other people’s business, poking their noses into stuff. “You’re really affecting our business,” she sighed as she crossed her arms.  I awed at her terrible service and unreasonable means.

“Charlene, what kind of attitude is that? The Diamonté IV is just like a piece of Mona Lisa. It’s a piece of art that anybody deserves to see. Now M’am, please do come in and have a look. Its gonna be refreshing!” his looks of a manager invited me in, leaving Charlene standing at the entrance, red with embarrassment. The two security guards guarding the diamond gave a small laugh, leaving the woman in between them feeling ever more shameful.

I could have re-watched that and laughed every time I saw that.

“Thank you.”

“Ah, M’am, it’s no problem at all. Char’s always like that. “He chuckled.

I smiled as I briefly glanced down on his nametag. Manager. Kennedy Smiths. I made a silent note in my mind to write an appraisal letter to his company for excellent service. “Please,” he gestured me into the boutique.

Crystal chandeliers were decorated on the high ceilings of The Diamonté. It truly was refreshing and spectacular. Its walls were painted beige, floors carpeted with purple velvet. A red carpet stood out from the rest, leading us into the long hallway. Paintings hanged from the walls. It was just magnificent. Never in my life, would I have ever dared to step into this magical boutique on my own. The feeling was just magical. Brilliant.

“M’am, brace yourself.” He smiled. Oh god. Was he the advertiser of Pearlie White Dental Care? “I’m sorry, what?” I was just too mesmerized by his teeth. But he just smiled, like someone who was about to give the birthday girl a surprise. We finally stopped in front of a mechanic black safe door. He scanned his staff pass and entered the pass code. After that, there were several other big metallic doors before we finally reached. Ken entered the gliding door after a series of eye- scans and verifications. “Well…” Ken laughed as he pushed opened the grand doors.

I gaped in awe.

The sparkling grey-blue diamond blinded my eye. It settled comfortably in the spotlight, guarded by red laser beams. “There can be miracles, when you believe~ “An acoustic version of Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston’s When You Believe played in my head. “This grey-blue diamond was sold for 30.3 million at the auction on Wednesday in London. The Diamonté bought it.This 35.56-carat diamond, once owned by Spain’s King Philip IV, had been expected to earn bids of up to 16.7 million at the Christie’s auction.” Ken briefed me, giving my tiny brain little time to absorb this enormous information.

“Spectacular.” I mumbled under my breath. My eyes were stuck onto the glistering diamond. It was like the sun, engraved with millions of tiny stars at the side. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

“Known as the Wittelsbach diamond, is especially prized for its historic significance. Once passed down from King Philip IV to his daughter Infanta Margarita Teresa in the 17th century, it was later owned by the Wittelsbach family of Bavaria. Christie’s auctioned the diamond in 1931, and it re-emerged in the 1960s. It’s the one in the million, the ultimate unique one.” He turned off the laser beam security and leaded me to the diamond-shaped transparent double-glass. “A diamond inside a diamond. Amazing!” I clapped in glee. I took a quick peek at the incoming message when my phone beeped. “Mr. Smiths thanks for the kind introduction. That was..,” I exhaled, “absolutely fabulous! Utterly incredible! But right now, I’ve gotta run. But I swear I’m gonna come back someday for this. I will.” Giving him a polite smile, I pressed on my excitement and followed him back out to the entrance.

“Charlene, have a great day!” I beamed at her, showing my dimples as I gave her a light pat on the shoulder. Guiltily, Charlene nodded her head and gave an embarrassed smile. Then, the manager and staff waved me goodbye. It was awkward, but strangely, warmed my heart. There are nice people in this world. It could be the milkman, postman, your neighbor, a waitress, anybody, that is – if we find them. They’re always out there for us, but we might not know their presence. Some might say that that special someone is a guardian angel, but some might not. A smile curled at my lips.

                                                  ***

“7.06.. 7.07..7.09..7.10..7”

He counted the seconds on his watch, assuming that she would be late. Heaving a sigh of relief, I pushed the wide doors of the French café. He was wearing a purple-ish blue tee and faded grey jeans, along with a black suit jacket. It was sort of a scruffy look, but damn, I loved it.

“Hey,” I propped myself in the seat opposite him. Brushing my brunette beach curls back into place and gave a slight smile. “Sorry Ian ‘Flemming’.” I added. He eyed me, gave me one of those looks. “Yeah its fine. I’ve been through this a lot, trust me, it doesn’t hurt as much now. “He frowned as he punched his chest lightly. “Not even a punch hurts anymore.” Ian glanced up at me, trying to see if I was interested in his act. I tilt my head slightly downwards. “Pow pow pow. It doesn’t hurt. Wow, amazin’. Love is like medicine, eh? “He punched his chest again. “Oww. Okay, this hurts.” He smiled shyly.

A waiter paced his way towards me. I ordered a cup of double espresso with soy milk instead of their fattening, but famous dairy milk. He leaned forward and brushed his fingers on my cheeks; slowly moving down to my ears, then tucking my strand of hair behind my ear. I stared into his brown eyes.

Words can’t describe how captivated I was. He was like a god, perhaps having the smart look Poseidon has, and the power of Zeus- that strong attraction I felt towards him. His broad shoulders, masculine figure, it adds up to his features that made him a god. My friends used to laugh, about how blindly in love I was. Of course I denied. Told them I was serious about it. Then the mocking and laughing stopped. But deep down, I knew it all. My heart was betraying my feelings. I liked him a lot, I loved him with all my heart, thought that his was the one. The more I stared deep into his eyes, the more I could look into his soul; it was weird, that he let me into his soul after suffering from a horrible childhood. I didn’t expect him to trust love again. Maybe he trusted me more than his love for me. I felt honored. I felt like mocking all the girls who dumped him because he wouldn’t let them into his soul, not just yet. They didn’t understand his past, did they?

“Hey,” he mumbled softly as he twirled my hair. I snapped out of my thought, smiled. “Hey,” I finally spoke. The hot steaming espresso was served, and he opened the glass bottle where all the brown sugar cubes were at. The cubes were homemade from the shopkeeper of the café – for they were heart-shaped. “Two hearts, one for you, one for me,” he dropped the sugar cubes into our cups of coffee.