Chasing Harry Winston

“Emmy, you’re being ridiculous. ‘Stake my claim’? Are you kidding? You know how I feel about living together before marriage.”

Emmy shrieked a little and then, remembering where she was, slapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to abide by that absurd idea? My god, Leigh, you sound like some religious freak!”

“Oh, Emmy, save it. You know it has nothing to do with any religious or moral reason. It’s just the way I want it. It’s a little old-fashioned. So what?”

“Does Russell know?”

“He certainly knows how I feel in general.”

“But he doesn’t know that now, even though you’re engaged to be married, you’re not going to move in with him?”

“We haven’t gotten there yet. I’m sure he’ll be totally understanding.”

“Good god, Leigh. You know you’re going to have to live with him at some point, don’t you? Even though he’s a boy and he’s gross in the bathroom and might want the TV on sometimes when you don’t? You have thought about this, haven’t you?”

Leigh sighed and said, “I know. In theory that all sounds okay, but in reality…I’m just used to living alone. I like living alone. The noise, and the stuff all over the place, and the always having to talk even when you just want to sit on the couch and zone out…it’s terrifying.”

Slightly relieved that Leigh had, at the very least, opened up about her fear of cohabiting, Emmy eased a little. “I know, sweetie. It’s scary for everyone. Hell, Duncan and I dated for five years and never made it official. But you love him and he loves you and the two of you will figure it out. If you want to wait until you’re legal, well, who am I to tell you what-”

“I’m not in love with him, Emmy.” Leigh’s voice was unwavering and their connection was crystal clear, but Emmy was certain she hadn’t heard correctly.

“What did you say? I can’t hear a goddamn thing here.”

Leigh was silent on the other end.

“Leigh? Are you there? What did you just say?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Leigh whispered, her throat catching on the last word.

“Sweetheart, what do you mean? You two seem so happy together! You’ve never uttered a negative word about Russell, only told us over and over how sweet and kind and thoughtful he is,” Emmy coaxed.

“None of that changes the fact that sometimes I’m bored to tears when I’m with him. I know I shouldn’t be, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am. We don’t have anything in common! He loves sports; I love reading. He wants to go out and network and meet people, and I just want to hole up at home. He’s not the least bit interested in current events or the arts-just football, weight training, nutrition, stats. His college injury. I’m not denying that he’s a terrific guy, Em, but I’m not sure he’s terrific for me.”

Emmy liked to think of herself as fairly intuitive, but she hadn’t sensed this for a second. Nerves, she thought to herself. Nothing more than Leigh’s inability to accept that she deserved a great guy and had actually found one. Everyone knew that crazy passion or great love affairs cooled after the first few months, maybe a year. What mattered was finding someone who would be a good partner for the long haul. Who would stay by your side, be a good husband, a good father. And if Russell wasn’t that guy, she didn’t know who was. She began to explain exactly this to Leigh but she was interrupted by the scowling hotel employee, who tapped her roughly on the shoulder. “Madam? Kindly remove your shoes from the furniture.”

“Who’s that?” Leigh asked.

“Excuse me?” Emmy peered at the man; she was momentarily intimidated, but that quickly shifted to irritation.

“I requested that you please remove your shoes from the chair. We don’t sit like that here.” The man stood rooted to his spot and peered at Emmy.

“Emmy, what’s going on? Who is that?”

Emmy, usually uncomfortable with any type of confrontation, felt a wave of anger course through her. She forgot all about Leigh and glared at the man. “We don’t sit like that here? Did you really just say that to me?”

Leigh laughed. “Tell him how it is.”

Emmy made a point of speaking loudly into the phone. “I’m sitting in the lounge because it’s too goddamn dark to read in my own room-just sitting, mind you-and I have one of my legs tucked under me. And you want to know the type of shoes I’m putting all over the furniture? Ballet slippers. Like, not ballet-style flats but actual soleless ballet slippers. I’m a guest of this hotel, and he has the nerve to reprimand me like a child?” She flashed her eyes upward to meet the man’s. He shook his head as if to say Ignorant American and turned-pirouetted, really-away.

“Got to love French hospitality,” Leigh said. “Am I to assume that you haven’t snagged yourself a lover yet?”

“Nice try. Don’t think you’re changing the subject that easily.”

“Em, I really appreciate your listening, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? I’m sure everything will work out.”

Now that’s the spirit! Emmy thought. Leigh just needed a little time to work through her thoughts, to realize what was important. It was a mere case of overthinking, and Leigh would see she was just being silly. “Okay. Back to the ring. Tell me more.”

“It’s really beautiful,” Leigh said softly. “So classic. I don’t know how he knew I liked that-I’m not even sure I knew I liked that. We never went shopping or looking; we never even talked about it.”

“That’s Russell for you. What shape is it?”

“A larger emerald-cut stone in the middle flanked by two smaller emerald-cuts on the side of a very thin platinum band.”

Emmy whistled. “Sounds gorgeous. Did you really not have any idea?”

There was a long pause. For a moment Emmy again thought that they’d gotten disconnected, but then she heard Leigh breathing heavily.

“Are you okay, honey? Leigh?”

More breathing, this time in shorter, more shallow bursts.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just a little racing heart. Must be all the excitement, you know?”

Emmy pressed her cell phone to her ear, desperately wanting to hear just a little of the giggly, girly enthusiasm of someone who had just gotten engaged, but Emmy knew better. Leigh wasn’t a giggly, girly girl: She was funny, she was sensible, she was loyal, and she was neurotic; giggly just wasn’t her thing. Maybe Leigh was also feeling a little uncomfortable describing her ring when everyone had expected Emmy to be the first. Emmy flashed back to the dinner a few months earlier when she’d excitedly told Leigh and Adriana that Duncan had asked for her ring size. Not necessarily the most romantic gesture, she remembered thinking, but it definitely indicated good things. She felt her face redden at the memory of her excitement and decided she’d save Leigh from feeling any more pity for her.

“So what’d you get him for your anniversary?” Emmy asked with extra, perhaps excessive, cheer.

Another long pause. It sounded like Leigh was trying to moderate her breathing with measured breaths.

“Leigh?”

“Sorry, I’m, uh, I’m fine. Just a little…uh, I got him a laptop bag. An orange one.” She took another deep breath and coughed. “From Barneys.”

Emmy tried to mask her surprise. “Russell finally got a laptop? I never thought I’d see the day. How did you finally convince him?”

“He still doesn’t have a laptop,” Leigh sighed. “Oh, Emmy, I’m the worst person ever!”

“Honey, what’s wrong? I’m so confused. Are you planning on buying him a laptop? That’s cute! You couldn’t have known he was going to propose that night. Don’t worry about it. Russell is the last person to get upset over something like that.”

There was another long pause, and when Leigh finally spoke, Emmy could tell she was crying. “I got him an orange laptop bag because I was too lazy to pick out something personal,” she said, her voice filled with anger and regret. “I called the store and gave them my credit card number and that’s what they sent over. A laptop bag! For