Entangled Moments (Moments in Time) (4 page)

Chapter Six

“Carlene, meet Sam Doherty.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sam looked to be in his late forties
or early fifties. He was tall and wiry, and his smile was more of a frown,
which had left a permanent line between his brows. His hand shook mine, but his
eyes remained frozen. He was going to be a tough one to win over.

“He’s the man you want to please,” Lilliana continued.

Great. I forced a smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Sam, Carlene is the first honest person I’ve met in a long
time, and I have a feeling she will be an asset to Stalford.”

Relief had washed over me when Lilliana hired me without
asking to see credentials or references. With no graduation behind me or
experience in the area, I’d never have gotten the job if I’d applied for it.

Sam turned to Lilliana. “Can I have a word?”

Lilliana nodded and followed him up a wooden staircase.

A chill ran down my spine. Every fiber of my being warned me
that Sam wanted to talk Lilliana out of hiring me, a woman with no education or
experience. Hopefully he wouldn’t insist on seeing credentials.

I took advantage of the time to look around again. The store
was on two floors and so still, despite the presence of customers and other
sales associates.

Earlier, while we were waiting for Sam to arrive, Lilliana
had shown me around. Upstairs were several offices, one of which belonged to
Sam and another to Lilliana, opposite an inventory room with maximum security
locks. Lilliana admitted that she was never at the store long enough to use it.
She preferred to work from home.

Around me were sparkling glass cabinet displays, drawer
units, glass shelves, and showcases filled with jewelry. Case lighting
illuminated the facets of precious and semiprecious gems. My fingers itched to
touch the jewelry.

Customers flaunting designer suits, handbags, and shoes
weaved their way through the displays and eyed pieces of jewelry. Some had
already decided on their purchases and stood at the points-of-sale, credit
cards in hand.

How would it feel to be one of them, shopping with no
thought about the cost? To be past the point of buying what I needed and
instead purchasing what I wanted?

How would it feel to be on the other side?

The ding of a cash register snapped me back to reality. It
didn’t matter what I didn’t have. Right now I should be grateful for what I did
have—a glamorous job that would pave the way to a new life. What I had was
better than what I could have hoped for.

If my luck held, maybe I wouldn’t have to return to Oasis
after all.

***

The next few weeks were spent selling to rich—but
unknown—customers. All I could do was observe from a distance as my colleagues
attended to celebrities. I’d never thought I’d see these people in real life,
let alone breathe the same air as them.

I did everything to prove my worth. To assure Lilliana that
she’d been right to take a chance on me, and to draw Sam to my side. I was
almost always the first employee to arrive at the store in the morning and the
last one to leave.

But Sam would never let me sell to the wealthy customers. He
never hid his disapproval about my employment at Stalford. He rarely greeted
me, and we only exchanged words when absolutely necessary.

“Sam doesn’t care for Carlene much, does he?” I’d overheard
Sarah say to Amanda in the staff room, last week.

Amanda’s laugh leaked through the slit under the door. “Would
you like her if you were Sam? Lilliana literally dragged her off the streets.”

“I think she’s odd. Something about her doesn’t seem right.”

“What do you mean?”

“She keeps her distance from all of us, except Julie. Almost
as if there’s something she doesn’t want us to know.”

A tear trickled down my cheek. If only they knew how close
to the truth they’d come. If they knew about my secret, they’d dislike me even
more.

So what. I had to make the most of this opportunity and not
waste my time worrying about whether or not my colleagues liked me. So I
concentrated on being the best I could be.

After work, since I had nothing else to do, I spent hours on
the Internet informing myself about jewelry and the jewelry business, and this
evoked in me the desire to know even more. In my third month at Stalford, I
enrolled in an evening gemology class, which taught me about the physical and
optical properties of gemstones—pearls, quartz, turquoise, ruby, and
tourmaline—and how rare they were, and was even introduced to gemstone testing
methods.

If I was going to do something, I’d do it right.

My efforts paid off when, a few weeks later, Sam led two
major celebrities in my direction. Since everyone else was occupied, he had no
choice but to hand them over to me.

Jodi Moore, the opera singer, and Steve Lear, a famous
actor, walked right up to me, and I received them with a wide grin.

Putting into practice what I’d learned from my classes, I
managed to sell them two of the most expensive pieces in the store—a vintage
watch and a diamond necklace.

If Sam didn’t appreciate my skills after this
accomplishment, he never would.

Chapter Seven

I’d done it again. I’d sold an old man a pricey diamond and
Burmese ruby necklace, a present for his wife on their fortieth wedding
anniversary. Just as I locked the display, Sam called me.

“Carlene, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

I shifted my gaze to the man next to him, and my eyes locked
with familiar ones. Eyes I had not been able to forget since the first day I
saw them. I still remembered how they’d looked closed, the long lashes grazing
Nick’s cheeks as we’d kissed.

“This is Nick Johnson,” Sam said. “He’s one of our most
valued customers.”

Who would have thought the next time I saw him would be at
my workplace? I guess it was bound to happen. If one wished to meet public
figures, Stalford was the place to be.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you... Mr. Johnson.” I extended my
hand toward him. My heart did a flip-flop when our palms touched.

“Glad to meet you too.” No sign on his face at all that
he knew me. I guess I was a distant memory to him, someone to kiss and forget.

When I saw the woman next to him, a gorgeous, Bambi-eyed
blond, ice spread through my stomach.

Nick draped an arm around her waist. “This is Elizabeth—”

“His fiancée,” Elizabeth finished and kissed his cheek.

A stab of jealousy rammed through me like a steel pole. He
was getting married?

Wait a minute, when we’d kissed, had he been in a
relationship? Did he cheat on his fiancée? What kind of man would do that?

“We’re looking for an engagement ring.” Elizabeth clapped
her hands like a small girl in a candy store. “I’d always wanted to pick out my
own. Not that I don’t trust your taste, darling.” She kissed him again, this
time on the lips.

“Carlene will help you do just that.” Sam flashed a rare
smile. It was clear he was sucking up to Nick.

“Great, let’s get started,” said Nick.

Elizabeth headed to the glass display with a huge “diamonds”
sign hanging above it.

Nick gave me a swift glance and a tight-lipped smile and
followed her.

Sam disappeared to attend to other customers, and I stood
there for a moment, composing myself.

Why was Nick acting as if he’d never seen me before? Of
course I wouldn’t expect him to embarrass himself or ruin his
reputation, but I at least deserved a knowing glance. Our kiss might have
been insignificant to him, but it had changed my life.

I sucked in a deep breath and gritted my teeth, then
followed them. I had to be professional.

As we normally did for special customers, I handed them each
a glass of champagne. As I handed Nick his flute, our fingers brushed and he
glanced up for a second, then looked away. He knew who I was. That comforted me
some, but not much.

I asked Elizabeth what she had in mind for her engagement
ring, but apart from “very expensive,” she had no further specifications. The
more time I spent with her, the more she made me want to gag. She was clearly a
gold digger. Her favorite word was money. How did Nick not see that?

After thirty minutes of indecision, Elizabeth settled for an
emerald-cut diamond ring you could see from a mile away.

She admired the sparkling gem in the light and thanked Nick
for making her the luckiest woman in the world, then made him promise to buy
her an equally expensive wedding gown.

Under the pretense of offering them privacy, I sneaked away.
On my way to the front of the store, something caught my attention. A silver
bracelet with a diamond and silver key pendant attached to it. It took my
breath away every time I saw it. The most beautiful piece of jewelry I’d ever
seen. I reached into the case and caressed it with the tips of my fingers. Of
course I had tried it on—just once, when no one was watching. But I wasn’t
naïve; I would never be able to afford it, even if I worked for ten years and
starved myself.

“We’re ready to pay.”

I startled and almost went flying into the display. Nick
reached out in time to grab my wrist and break my fall, just as he had last
time. Why did I keep falling around him?

For an instant, our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a
beat.

Releasing my wrist from his grasp, I broke the connection.

Luckily, Elizabeth didn’t seem to notice our shared moment.
She seemed to be more in love with her ring than with Nick.

I rubbed my wrist, which felt warm, as if his touch had
scorched it. Then I locked the jewelry shelf with the bracelet. “Follow me,” I
said, and turned my back to him. I led them to the point-of-sale station and
handed them over to Amanda, who finalized the transaction.

As I walked away, someone touched my arm.

I wheeled around, hoping it was Nick, come to his senses,
but it was Sam.

“Nice job back there.” He grinned.

I was shocked. He had never smiled at me that way before. It
was the type of smile he reserved for when he studied the jewelry while he
thought no one was watching. He had also never given me a compliment. Not once.

“Thank you.” I realized I was still rubbing my wrist; the
heat from Nick’s touch surrounded it like a bracelet.

“Can I have a word?”

“Is something wrong?” I lived every day in the fear that
what I had would be snatched away in the blink of an eye.

Sam shook his head and laughed. “Not at all. I have a
proposition for you.”

I frowned but nodded and followed him upstairs, past the
inventory door, to his office.

“Please take a seat.” He waved at a cushioned chair on one
side of his glass-top desk. “Would you like some champagne?”

“I...no. I don’t drink at work.” I squinted, wondering at
his agenda. Why was he being so nice to me all of a sudden? In all the time we’d
worked together, he’d never uttered more than five words to me at a time.

“Like I said down there, you’re a great salesperson. We
appreciate all your hard work.”

It meant a lot coming from him.

“We’d like to promote you.”

I perked up. “Really?”

“Really. In addition to selling jewelry in the store, we’d
also like you to sell it in a different way.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Carlene, we’d like you to be the face of Diamond Dreams,
our new jewelry line.”

Chapter Eight

The revolving doors of the photo studio opened and I stepped
into the cool interior. Black-and-white photos of models in various poses
adorned the walls.

Today was my first shoot, and adrenaline pumped at rapid
speed through my veins.

Being the face of the Diamond Dreams jewelry line meant I
would be able to afford a nice place and have enough money left over to spoil
myself.

Having blown-up images of me in the display windows and in
magazines was an added bonus that also terrified me. I had never felt comfortable
being the center of attention. As a teenager, I had dreamed of being a model,
even if I never thought I stood a chance with the acne that had tormented me
since the age of twelve. By the time I went to college, it had cleared up, but
I still never thought of myself as beautiful. Until Chris came along. It had
taken months for me to finally accept his compliments and start feeling good
about myself. When I did, my confidence skyrocketed. He was the first man, my
first love, and he’d made me feel beautiful.

A hair and makeup team awaited me.

“Let’s make you stunning,” said MaryAnn, a woman with a
ballerina bun decorated with chopsticks. She lifted a strand of my hair. “You
need curls. A little romance.”

She whisked me off to a mirrored room with a basin in one
corner and sat me down. First she washed my hair, and then her fingers moved
deftly between my hair, and various tools and products. Finally, she sighed
with content. “All done.” She swiveled me around and I gasped.

My hair was unrecognizable as it curled and twirled into a
romantic, glossy updo. I moved my head from side to side, admired the bronze
highlights that gave my brown hair life.

“I love it. Thank you.”

“Now you look the part. Silvy will be in shortly to do your
makeup.” She squeezed my shoulder and left the room.

When Silvy entered, she, too, wasted no time. She cleaned my
face, plucked my eyebrows, rubbed creamy foundation into my skin, and ran
eyeliner along my upper and lower lash lines, all the while explaining each
step to me. Then she applied various shades of brown and bronze eye shadows.
Finally, she lengthened and volumized my short lashes with dark brown mascara
and smeared nude lipstick and clear gloss onto my lips.

“You’re gorgeous.” Silvy winked at me.

Gazing into the mirror, I had to agree. My skin was smooth,
and my eyes had never looked bigger or brighter. Apart from lip gloss, I’d
never used much makeup. Maybe it was time to start.

While I admired my new look in the mirror, another woman
entered, laden with clothes on hangers.

“I’m Marjorie,” she said. “I’m here to dress you.”

She helped me into a nude, backless cocktail dress with a
sequined bust.

I stood in front of the mirror, watching as the dress
produced curves I never knew existed. I was blown away.

“I know you’d rather stand there all day, but we’re not
through yet.” Marjorie snapped a bracelet on my wrist, hung diamond drops on my
ears, and framed my neck with a matching necklace.

The shoot lasted three hours, with five outfit changes and
lots of jewelry. It started off stilted, with me being an amateur and all, but
I soon found my groove. In the end, I pretended that Mark, the photographer,
was Nick and I was modeling in front of him. In the end, the photographer got a
lot of great shots, and I was ready to go home and sleep for a week.

Much as I longed to go straight home and climb into bed, I
had promised to help out at Oasis. On my way I’d pass by the chapel to light a
candle for Chris and give thanks for all the blessings in my life.

Sometimes it was hard to believe all this belonged to me.
Secretly, I waited for someone to pick up the remote and stop the movie of my
life.

***

Two weeks after the photo shoot, I got paid for it, in
addition to my normal salary as a sales associate. I had never had so much money
in my life. I was going to be responsible with it. I decided to save some,
donate a portion to the shelter, and get myself a decent apartment.

“I’m sad to see you go,” the landlord said when I told him
of my plans to move out. “It’s not often I have a pretty lady around.”

“It was nice living here, but I need to find a place closer
to work,” I lied. It was the worst place to live. The loud music from
neighbors, the middle-of-the-night screams as a husband beat his wife, the
unflushed shared toilet, and mildewed shower curtains. I was glad to be rid of
it all.

Melisa had offered to go apartment hunting with me. The
search lasted a week, but we eventually found a two-bedroom fifteen minutes
from work with a spacious closet, a balcony, and granite kitchen countertops.

Once I’d signed the lease, we went shopping for furniture
and other items to make my new apartment feel like home. We bought
pastel-colored curtains, throw pillows, bedding, vases, and lamps. I also
bought Melisa some new clothes. Nothing was more fulfilling than sharing my
blessings with someone I cared about.

Over lunch at a seafood restaurant, I asked Melisa to move
in with me, since I had an extra room. But she declined my offer. She was
resigned to her life at Oasis like I used to be.

“You encouraged me to move on, Melisa. Now I’m asking you to
do the same.”

Melisa shook her head. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

I squeezed her hand. “You can never be a burden to me. We’re
friends, I want to help you.”

“It’s your life. I don’t want to stand in your way.”

I sprinkled salt on my hake. “You’re a hard nut to crack.”

“I’m the kind of nut you’ll never crack.” She shrugged. “I
like living at Oasis.”

Funny, I recalled her telling everyone at Oasis about the
nice house with a picket fence and a porch swing she and her husband used to
own.

My guess was life on the outside terrified her. It had let
her down before. She was afraid of gaining happiness only to have it snatched
away again.

“Well, if you ever need anything... food, a place to stay,
come to me, okay?”

“I promise.” Melisa finished her food and ordered more to
take away.

At least I’d made her day. That was enough for now.

We left the restaurant and hugged on the sidewalk.

“I’ll see you next Saturday. I’m on lunch duty,” I said.

“I don’t understand why you don’t sit back and enjoy your
new life. Why do you even return? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I come back because as good as I have it now, Oasis was my
home for a long time. I can’t forget about it.”