'You're talking a lot but not saying anything'
*
Green eyes. Very, very green eyes are quietly stealing glances from me in this very store. I instantly knew who it was when he stepped through the door; the man from last night, the one that waved across the street.
Part of me should be terrified, it was a weird instance, and now he was stood in the store while I'm alone. Cathy was successful last night and had only just got home to her kid, told me that it was just me in work today and I could close whenever I wanted. Which is all good and fair, except the store may never close because this man may murder me.
He was inspecting some rings on display at the other counter, delicately trailing his fingers along the glass, flicking his eyes towards me every now and again to make sure I was still watching. Of course, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Now that he's in daylight, I can make out more of his features and my god is he gorgeous. Perhaps the most handsome man I've seen. Cathy will be jealous that she isn't in.
I'm cleaning the desk I'm stood behind; earlier this morning a mum and her child came in and left crumbs behind. I like kids, I really do, just not when they make a mess. I'd have to hoover the carpet after. We always had to uphold the image of class in this business. The presence of hobnobs crumbs does not reflect that.
I decided I had to talk to him. The tension in the room was too much, we just kept looking at each other in complete silence. I needed to hear his voice, to see if it matched the appearance. I desperately hope it does.
This is one of the perks of working in this industry. Lots of attractive rich men. I'd been asked on plenty of dates while working here, but I'd had to turn all of them down because of Joe. Part of me was hoping this man would ask that fateful question so I could say yes for the first time ever.
I put the cloth away, standing up straight and turning to him. 'Can I help you with anything, sir?'
A faint smile landed on his lips, curling at the corners. He slowly started making his way towards me, his fingers still brushing along the surface. It was like he was teasing me. 'I'd like to see the most expensive diamond you own?' His voice is deep, a slight northern accent to it. A perfect match.
His question caught me off guard. It was very forward. Most men that came into this store would ask for it but never actually buy it because they couldn't afford it. There's only so much wealth a man can flaunt. But this man looked like he could afford whatever he wanted. I could tell.
Our most expensive diamond was placed in an engagement ring with a platinum band, a giant stone shaped as a rectangle. It's 33.19 carats, and a direct twin of the ring Richard Burton used to propose to Elizabeth Taylor in 1968. A truly iconic stone. It's incredibly heavy too; I always wondered how Taylor managed to keep it on her finger without getting cramp.
I carried the ring out of the vault, placing it down on the counter in it's box, sliding some cotton gloves over to the man in case he wanted to handle it. The minute he laid his eyes upon it he smiled, bright and beaming. 'Who's the lucky lady?' I ask, desperate to know why he wanted to see it. You don't just buy a ring like this for anyone. If I managed to sell it I'd get a huge bonus, which is great, but I'd hoped he was single, so I felt ok with checking him out.
He pulled the gloves onto his hand, picking it up to inspect. I could tell that he knew what he was doing, holding it up from certain angles to see the way it danced against the light. 'No one, I just like shiny things.' He smiled at me, handing the diamond back.
I hope he's not wasting my time. 'So, you're not thinking of purchasing anything today?' I needed him to say yes; I wanted him to stay longer. There was something about his energy that intrigued me. The way he spoke, the movement of his eyes as he examined me, not even subtly. This was a man that knew how to get what he wanted, and today I was in the mood to play along.
'Is that so?' I ask, smirking as I placed the diamond in the box, walking back into the vault to securely lock it away.
He kept his eyes on me the whole time. I felt his stare on my back, burning holes into my skin. It felt familiar.
'I do require your help though, miss...' he spoke, trailing off to find out my name.
I complied, wanting to hear it from his mouth. 'Atlas, call me Atlas.'
He pulled a box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a necklace. Potentially one of the most beautiful necklaces I had ever seen. It almost seemed familiar, the way the light reflected off of the diamonds, like I'd seen this piece before. Maybe not in person, but this couldn't be a secret piece of jewellery, it had to have been the centre of a media story at some point. Creations like this don't deserve to be kept in the dark, they need to be held up to the light so their beauty can be seen. So they can shower their magic onto the most undeserving of citizens. Right now, I felt undeserving.
I caught him smiling at me, watching as I inspected the necklace and all its splendour. 'That's an unusual name. I like it.'
My gaze turned back to him, nodding in recognition of the compliment. My dad chose my name when I was born. He always liked the stars and believed that I could lead to them like a map. I helped him find his way, he would tell me. Sometimes he still did, but only when he was lucid enough to remember those parts. Stars were his diamonds. He would always joke that he wasn't smart enough to study them, so gave his attention and skills to the closest thing he could get.
Diamonds are the stars that we can hold; they're also the ones that we can manipulate, though. Dim their brightness or emphasise their shine; it was all up to us.
'It's beautiful, isn't it?' he asked, referring to the necklace. That was one way of putting it. It was probably worth more than I'd ever earn in my life. I simply nodded in response, unsure what he wanted me to do with it. 'I want to know how much it's worth. Scrap that, I already know, but I want to see if you can guess.'
A game? He wants to play a game. He stood on the side of the street and watched me like a creep so I could participate in a party trick. 'Why do you need me to do that if you already know?' I quizzed, shuffling on my feet as his gaze bore down on me.
He was a tall man, probably over six foot, and I'm just a middling 5'6. I have to look up to get a clear view of him. I think he likes that, always smirking when I have to tilt my head back. I caught him looking at my neck when I did.
'Because I believe you're one of the only people that can,' he spoke. An interesting claim from a man that doesn't know me. I don't even know his name, and I would probably never see him again after today. The prospect of not seeing that face again disappointed me slightly. It's an awfully pretty one.
So, I go ahead with his request, deciding to do it without any tools, just my eyes. I want to prove him right. Show him that I can do what people train years to achieve. This was a skill I had picked up in my first 6 months of working here. It wasn't difficult. Part of me was feeling smug.
I lift it slightly under the light above me, and as expected the light bounces off of it, creating a gorgeous technicolour around the room. That's when I recognised it, based on a small inscription on the chain, something only someone with good vision could spot. This was a Christie Diamond pendant necklace. It was a large pear shaped stone, on a chain of smaller diamonds. I'd seen pictures of this when it was first made; nothing would ever compare to what they'd achieved when they made it. It was heavy, the diamonds varying from 5.50 – 0.97 carats.
Though I didn't know the price off the top of my head, I could easily guess. 'It must be over 5 million,' I confidently state. I'm holding a necklace worth millions of pounds.
I knew I was correct by the expression on his face. He took the necklace out of my hands and place it back in its box before responding. 'Correct. You have a very good eye.'
The compliment made the heat rise to my cheeks, and I knew I was visibly blushing. I've never been great at accepting them. Whenever Joe complimented me I went quiet, changing the subject entirely. Though, his were often about my appearance, so after a while I got bored of hearing them, finding them disingenuous. This was a compliment about my skill, my talents, which made me flustered. Nothing compared to being praised for something you worked hard on. My work was how I defined myself. I know I'm good at what I do, I learned more in the past few years than most do within 10.
'How does one come by a necklace like that, then?' I ask. I know I'm prying, and if my boss was here he'd probably give me a warning. We're not supposed to pry into the private lives of customers, that's the number one rule of working in a public facing role. Act like you care but don't actually mean it. The problem was I did care, because it's not every day someone comes into the store with a necklace worth over £5 million.
I watch him place the box back into his pocket, before smoothing down his coat. 'Let's just say I have friends in high places.'
He's being mysterious, and it only makes me want to know more. Usually, men flaunt their wealth. Not this man, though. He likes his secrets. 'You're a lucky man, then,' I continue, lifting my lips slightly in amusement.
I leaned down to grab the disinfectant again, getting back to work and cleaning up the mess the child had made before he arrived. He was still watching me, not moving. 'People often let go of diamonds like that. That's why they're so valuable, we all want what we can't have.' The last part of the sentence made me look back up at him, our eyes meeting. His seemed mischievous. His eyes lingering on me.
I certainly wanted what I couldn't have, at the moment. Him, right on this desk. These urges didn't come over me often but who doesn't like tall, handsome men with dark secrets.
I notice him playing with a ring, one that I hadn't given him but recognised from one of our cabinets at the tills. 'How did you get that?' I quizzed, taken aback by the presence of it. The only way to get into those cabinets is with a key, one of which was on the chain around my neck. They're not easy to break into.
He looked down at the ring with a frown, before passing it forward to me, sliding it across the counter. 'I found it laying on the surface over there, thought you'd like it back. Would be a pity if someone took it.'
My finger lightly grazed his as he passed it to me. I flinched at his touch. The ring in question was much less than the jewels we had just handled. Around 6 grand still because of the smaller diamonds that encased the band. 'Thanks...' I trailed off. I definitely didn't get the ring out of the cabinet, and I would have noticed if Cathy had left it out earlier.
Peculiar.
The man still hadn't left. I'm starting to get uneasy. His constant stare is intimidating.
I walked around to the other cabinet, unlocking it to put the ring back in its place, checking that all the others were still there. The cabinet was unlocked. I was glad no one else was in today; I'd be blamed for that and potentially lose my job, especially after the local theft.
'Is there anything else I can help you with today, sir?' I asked. While it was nice having such an attractive individual in close proximity, he was now starting to creep me out.
He ruffled his hair quickly, pulling his coat around his body to indicate that he was indeed preparing to leave. I couldn't help but watch his fingers as they flexed on the material around him. 'No, that will be all. It was nice meeting you Atlas, I hope to see you again soon.'
Before I could respond, he exited. I watch as he walked across the street, climbing into a black car parked opposite. It's not normal to drive in central London. He must be rich. Then it hit me. The car. It's the same as the one from the car park last night that almost blinded me and Joe.
A chill went down my spine, all the possibilities swirling in my head as to why he was so intent on watching me last night. Did he want to approach me then but couldn't because of Joe? For the first time in months I was actually thankful that Joe had come to harass me. I'd have to thank him later. Even if it did mean he'd take it as an invitation to continue contacting me.
I needed to know this man's name.
As the day winded on, business was slow. It felt eery, almost. Most likely because of the theft that happened just a few doors down. London had been buzzing with the news, reporters still lining the streets even as I closed up for the day. Some had approached me, asking for a quote, but I wasn't prepared to have my face plastered across national television. The police were no closer to finding out who was responsible. Usually there would be prints, CCTV, the tiniest thing pointing towards a culprit. But this crime was clearly carried out by an expert, because there wasn't a single trace of who it could be.
The excitement was thrilling.
Yet, the man from earlier today was still on my mind. Specifically, the necklace he presented before me. He said he had friends in high places, but what kind of person would have access to that money and just give it away.
I wanted to know more, maybe I could find out previous owners or where it was sold from. I already knew the diamond; it was easy to find it online. The minute I clicked search, I only found myself asking more questions.
The necklace in question had been stolen eight months ago. No one had found it since and there were no leads.
How did he get his hands on this?