2 Big Apple Hunter, page 5
“Wow,” Darby said looking around the room. “This place is spectacular.”
His appointment wasn’t until 10:30, but we decided to go in a little early and take a look around. There were four clerks at the ready to assist customers. A door at the back of the showroom was open, allowing a peek into an office. Two men in business suits were talking earnestly with a man in casual, somewhat sloppy dress, and I swear the man was wearing an Indiana Jones hat. It was brown, wide-brimmed, and even had the dark brown Grosgrain ribbon hatband. He seemed completely out of place in the jewelry store. I could see a pair of stockinged legs and high heels, so I knew a woman was seated to his right.
Darby and I moved in different directions to peer into cases. He walked toward watches, and I started with the case of engagement rings. I didn’t intend to look at them, but they were only a few steps in front of me, and I couldn’t help but to do a little wistful browsing. There were so many amazing shapes and settings, but my eye kept being drawn to a one and a half carat, simple but elegant, classic, round solitaire. After the heartache of cheater Louie, and the roadblocks I kept throwing up now, I wondered if marriage would ever be in the cards for me.
A nudge to my shoulder broke the moment. “Planning on getting married soon?” Darby asked with a big grin on his face.
I could feel the red creeping into my face. “No,” I sort of snapped at him, and then said softly, “There are just so many beautiful rings here.”
“Let me guess,” he said as he started browsing the case. “You like this one.” He pointed out the most opulent, garish, ring in the case, and I knew he was teasing me.
“Actually, I like this one” I said and pointed out the elegant solitaire.
“It’s beautiful. It looks just like you, Susan,” he said warmly. He put his arm around me and gave me a light squeeze. “Maybe someday,” he said.
Sometimes I think Darby and I shared the same brain waves. He knew me so well and could easily tell what I was thinking most of the time. I leaned my head against him for a second before asking, “Are you ready? Do you know how you want to pitch this?”
“I’m definitely ready,” he said confidently. “Especially after seeing the showroom, I’m convinced I’m on track with what they want.” He looked at his watch. “Susan, you have a good day and stay out of trouble.” He kissed me on my nose. “I’ll leave my cell phone on. If you call, I’ll know it’s important, and I’ll answer; otherwise, I’ll see you back in the room no later than 6:30. Don’t forget, Bernardo and Armand have tickets for all of us to see Anything Goes on Broadway tonight.” Bernardo and Armand were the Angelo Brothers.
“I won’t forget,” I said smiling. “I’m sure I’ll find something new to wear in my travels today.”
He walked toward the office, and I noticed one of the clerks motioning for him to take a seat outside the door.
I continued to look around in the cases. I liked jewelry but didn’t usually wear more than simple earrings or an occasional bracelet. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to wear jewelry, but playing racquetball as hard as I did didn’t lend itself to being adorned, and I disliked taking it off and putting it on all the time.
The cases of necklaces were next. Some of the pieces were stunning. I could definitely use a necklace or two to add style to plain winter sweaters. The prices ranged from reasonable to off-the-chart unaffordable.
“I’d like to see this one,” I said to the clerk as I pointed to a pretty necklace in white gold with a swirled geometric shape for the pendant. Within the white gold swirl, following the same lines, flowed pink mother of pearl. It was lovely. I definitely wanted this piece. “I’ll take it,” I told her with a smile.
Another clerk brought a box to the counter and started removing more necklaces to be added to the case. Two pieces jumped out at me right away. One was an exquisite pink morganite with several dark, lime-green peridots worked around the gem and into the white gold chain necklace. It was vibrant and gave the effect of a flower and petals. There was nothing else like it in the case, and I wondered if it was custom-made and one-of-a-kind.
The other piece was a simple oval of black jade with a 24-carat gold symbol of an ancient Chinese musical instrument on the front. It was hanging on a multi-colored silk cord in dark shades of blue, green, and purple. My first thought was that my mother would love it. I placed it with the other two necklaces and said happily, “I’ll take all three.” I only flinched a little when I was given the final price.
Darby was still sitting by the office door when I was ready to leave. I gave him a little wave and a smile as I walked out the door and into the big city - by myself.
I walked one block south on Fifth Avenue and noticed a café on the corner. I entered, ordered a steaming cup of white tea with jasmine, and sat down to plan my day.
We had checked into the St. Regis hotel around 11:00 P.M. the night before and could barely believe the amazing suite we were ushered into. It had a spacious living room, a large bedroom, and a full marble bathroom. There was even a separate powder room off of the main entryway. The bedroom had one king-size bed. Darby looked at me and said, “Oops. I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room.”
“Don’t be silly,” I told him. “We know each other well enough to share a bed, and it’s not like we haven’t ended up in the same bed before anyway.” I checked the closet and found extra linens on the shelf. I tossed a sheet and blanket to Darby and said, “We’ll use separate bedding. It’ll make things easier and more comfortable.”
After a good night’s sleep, we had no trouble getting showered and dressed without bumping into each other. The extra powder room was a godsend and allowed me to take my time with my hair and makeup without rushing or keeping Darby out of the bathroom. I chose to wear a simple dress for the day. It was a long-sleeve, cobalt blue, silk dress with a scoop neckline. It was short, at least four inches above my knee, and just the slightest bit floaty. Black tights and comfortable black ankle boots finished the outfit. My blonde hair provided a nice contrast against the blue dress.
Darby was smashing in a long-sleeve, navy blue, gingham shirt left open at the neck, and a simple navy blue blazer, dark blue jeans, and loafers. We turned quite a few heads as we walked through the hotel lobby.
Angelo Brothers Jewelers was within walking distance of the St. Regis. On our way out of the hotel, I grabbed several New York City attraction brochures from the concierge desk and shoved them into my purse. Now, sitting in the café, I intended to browse them, but I first wanted to look at the jade necklace again. I took it out of the bag.
It wasn’t a particularly expensive piece, but it was pretty. My mother loved jade and had a small collection of mostly green jade figurines. She would be delighted with this lovely black oval she could wear or display. She always said the Chinese word for jade was used to describe beautiful and pure women. I wrapped the necklace back in the tissue and slipped it into my purse. If I came across a post office during the day, I would package the necklace and put it in the mail for Mom. She and my dad were in San Antonio for several days visiting friends, and she would be surprised to come home to a package from New York.
I took the other two necklaces out of the bag and had to hold back a squeal. The morganite piece was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. It was bright, and it screamed look at me! I would definitely try to find something special to wear with this today. The mother-of-pearl necklace had a daintiness about it, appearing to be delicate although it wasn’t. I let out a small giggle. Of course I had chosen two pink pieces for me. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I did love pink, and it was a good color for me. I put the necklaces back in the Angelo Brothers bag.
I pulled the brochures from my purse. One was for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The museum was definitely on my list. I was looking forward to their Edgar Degas and Rembrandt collections. Hippie Aunt Charlotte had introduced me to Degas with his Singer with a Glove, and I loved it. I was further delighted with his ballerina paintings. Rembrandt was quite the opposite with his dark, sometimes brooding paintings, and I was first drawn to his self portraits. I set the museum brochure to the side.
I also had brochures for Central Park, Greenwich Village, Ellis Island, Times Square, The Empire State Building, and a small stack of others. I didn’t really know what to do, so I decided to start with shopping. I was sitting on Fifth Avenue after all.
As I shoved the brochures back into my purse, one slipped out onto the floor. It was for a bus tour of the city. Ooh, I could get into a bus tour. My mom and dad dragged me on loads of one-day bus tours when I was a kid - tours to historic cities, shopping and dining tours, fall foliage tours, and even manufacturing tours. I perused the brochure and saw a bus was leaving at 2:00 in the afternoon for a four-hour tour. That would put me back at the hotel before 6:30 to catch up with Darby and get ready for the theater. I made the quick phone call to the tour company and booked a seat.
I took the last couple sips of my tea while watching people walk by the window of the café. I stood up and reached down to pick up my jewelry bag and purse. As I looked out the window again, I just barely caught sight of a man walking out of view of the window, and I could have sworn it was the man with the Indiana Jones hat from earlier in the jewelry store.
A second later, he popped back in front of the window and stood staring at me with his mouth hanging open. He was a middle-aged man and looked rather silly in the hat. I smiled and gave him a little wave. His eyes widened, and he ran off. I couldn’t help it, and I laughed out loud. I didn’t know if the woman in the store was with him or not, and I wondered if she caught him taking a peek at me.
I left the café and continued south on Fifth Avenue. I had to force myself to keep walking when I passed Fendi, but I couldn’t resist crossing the street to run into Juicy Couture. I shopped quickly through the store, but didn’t see anything I wanted for my new position. I purchased a cute pair of black sunglasses with white spots and wore them out of the store. Crossing the street again, I hurried the remaining three blocks to Saks. If I was taking a bus tour, I wanted to maximize my shopping time and see as much as possible in one store.
I entered the store and was immediately in shopping heaven. Cosmetics and fragrances were on the first floor, and the variety of scents from testers and samples greeted you the minute you walked through the doors. I stopped for a second and took a deep breath. It was lovely.
There were several floors and so much to see, but I shopped quickly thinking I would come back tomorrow if I had time. I avoided the floor with shoes altogether for fear I would miss the bus tour. By the time I had shopped my way through the store and was on the first floor again, I had purchased two major items for my new wardrobe and one indulgent item for me.
The first was a Phillip Lim, collarless, textured jacket in winter white. It was beautiful and would look fabulous with everything. The cobalt blue dress I was wearing today was Phillip Lim, and I loved his clothing.
The second item was a classic black wool suit with a pencil skirt. It had the thinnest of pin stripes running throughout. It was sleek and smooth, and fit like a glove.
Finally, there was so much cashmere to choose from, and I couldn’t leave without something sumptuous. I chose a matching sweater and skirt in a light gray color. The skirt came to just below the knee, and the top had long sleeves, a smaller version of a crew neck, and was shorter than most sweaters, but not quite cropped. The entire outfit covered all of my skin from my collar bone to my calves, but because it was snug, and so very soft, it was incredibly sexy. I suppressed yet another squeal when I saw how it looked on me in the dressing room. I had to have it.
My treasures safely in bags, and my shopping bug satisfied for the moment, I once again crossed the cosmetics and fragrance floor on my way to the front doors. I was almost to the exit when a woman bolted around a display of Bond No. 9 fragrances and tackled me. I fell backwards onto my rump, my legs splayed, with the wind knocked out of me. My purse opened, and the contents scattered.
The woman fell on top of me, but managed to upright herself quickly. She didn’t attempt to help me up, but did try to gather my bags and pile them beside me. She mumbled, “I’m so sorry,” before running for the doors, and rushing out of the store. She wasn’t a young person. She seemed to be about mid-50s, and I thought I detected a hint of an English accent in her voice.
“Are you ok?” asked a female clerk who rushed over to offer assistance.
“I think so,” I said still feeling dazed. “My purse? My bags?” I looked around in time to see my lip gloss rolling under a makeup counter.
I was starting to feel embarrassed as everyone in the vicinity was staring at me. I quickly clapped my knees together and took the hand of a male clerk who helped me to my feet. Thankfully, I had worn the tights with my short dress, or I would have presented even more of a spectacle.
As she was gathering the contents of my purse, the female clerk asked, “Did you know that woman?”
“No,” I told her. “I’ve never seen her before. I can’t imagine what she was doing to run into me so hard.”
The male clerk tried not to laugh, but couldn’t hold back a chuckle and said, “She should play for the Jets. That was a perfect tackle.”
“Elliot!” the female clerk admonished him sharply. “Help her with her bags.”
She handed my purse to me, and Elliot thrust the bag handles into my other hand.
I thanked the clerks and hurried out the door. I didn’t have time to walk the five blocks back to the hotel with my packages, so I stepped to the curb and hailed a cab. I was making progress.
During the short cab ride back to the hotel, I checked my bags. I had three from Saks, and my sunglasses were back in the bag from Juicy Couture, but my heart leapt into my throat when I realized I didn’t have my Angelo Brothers Jewelers bag. I was positive I had it when I paid for the cashmere outfit, which was the last item I purchased. I had gathered all of my packages at that time, and everything was accounted for. I headed for the front exit, and the woman ran me down. She must have done it on purpose. She stole my jewelry! I had been mugged in New York City!
Chapter Six
I was heartsick over the jewelry. The stunning morganite piece was the most painful to lose, and I felt violated. I contemplated calling the police when another thought popped into my head. When I fell, the bag might have been thrown farther than the others and was simply under a rack or a display. That particular section of the store near the front doors had been crowded with merchandise. I pulled out my phone to call Saks, but the cab was already pulling up in front of the St. Regis.
“Please wait,” I told the driver. “I’ll be back in two minutes.”
I ran up the stairs, through the doors, and into the lobby. The concierge was at her desk. With a generous tip, I asked her to please hold my packages until I returned later in the day. There wasn’t enough time to run up to the room with the bags or to change my clothes. I was back in the cab within the promised two minutes, and I gave the driver the tour bus company’s address on 8th Avenue. I could only hope I would make the bus in time.
On the ride over, I dialed Saks and asked to speak with someone in security. I explained what happened in the store and was promised not only would they look for my lost bag, but they would review the security tapes to see if they could spot anything unusual about the woman. I gave them my cell phone number as well as my room number at the St. Regis.
My phone back in my purse, I grabbed my brush and ran it quickly through my hair. I pulled out a small mirror and achieved a quick freshen of my make-up even though the cab ride was anything but smooth. I was satisfied with the finished look.
The incident at Saks had upset me, but I wasn’t carrying the worry on my face. Hippie Aunt Charlotte taught me a long time ago to be careful about frowning, because it would lead to unattractive wrinkles later in life. I was an impressionable ten-year-old when she imparted most of her pearls of wisdom to me, and I had wanted to grow up to be just like her. The seven-hour-sleep rule and the frowning rule were just two of her many rules that had stuck with me over the years.
The cab driver dropped me at the curb. I was surprised at the number of busses on the street. This must be tour bus central. I found the ticket office and paid my fare. The clerk gave me a Hello, My Name Is sticky tag with my name printed on it in large letters.
Back on the sidewalk, I looked around for the correct bus, but I wasn’t sure which one to board. I looked down at the name tag in my hand, and the one thing I was sure about was there was no way I was slapping the tag on my silk dress.
An attractive, clean-cut guy, probably in his early to mid twenties, approached me, checked the name tag in my hand, and said with a huge smile, “Susan Hunter. Hi, I’m Derek, and I’ll be your tour guide today. Our bus is over here.” He motioned for me to follow him.
“Hi, Derek,” I said cheerfully. “Thank you for the rescue. I had no idea where to go.”
“I thought you looked lost,” he said, “and we were waiting for you, so I hopped off to give you a hand.”
I followed him onto the bus, and a big cheer erupted from the occupants. I looked at Derek, and he was now laughing. The driver closed the door, and the bus pulled away from the curb. As I looked around, I could see the bus was entirely filled with guys. There were no girls at all.
Derek pointed to the front row seat across from his, “That’s your seat, Susan. You have the best one in the house.”
I sat down. I didn’t understand what was happening. Everything seemed legitimate, but something was definitely wrong.
Derek, still with the big smile on his face, spoke again, “You didn’t want to take one of those stuffy tours with all of those old people and kids, did you? We saw you standing on the sidewalk looking confused and decided to rescue you.”
It was dawning on me now. I had been hi-jacked. I looked around again. Every one of the guys appeared quite smug, like they had just swallowed the canary. I turned to Derek and asked, “Are you really a tour guide?”
