Page 5
Story: The Next Mrs. Parrish
“Ah, Mrs. Parrish.” Stefan Becker extended his hand to Amber when they reached his office. “So nice to see you again.”
“And you,” she replied, shaking his hand.
“Please have a seat.” He placed a hand on one of the grayleather chairs in front of his desk. “Would you care for something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Amber said, sitting down.
Becker went to his desk and sat, and Amber saw him give a slight nod to the young woman who then left the room and closed the door. She wondered if something was going on between them. There was no wedding ring on Becker’s tanned finger, and even though he was probably a good fifteen years older than Miss Red Lips and had streaks of silver through his hair, he was extremely attractive in a buttoned-up sort of way.
Becker fingered the gold cuff link on his sleeve and leaned slightly forward. “You said on the phone that you had some stones you wished to have appraised and possibly sell.”
“Yes.” Amber withdrew a small drawstring pouch from her purse and handed it to Becker across the desk. She hadn’t brought the whole cache, only one of the diamonds and one each of the pink and red stones she couldn’t identify.
Becker opened the bag and carefully emptied the three stones onto a velvet-lined tray, picking up one after another with his tweezers and looking at them with his naked eyes. Then, picking up his loupe, he brought the first pink stone nearer, holding it with a diamond plunger and examining it more closely from all angles, then did the same with the red one. After a few minutes he looked up at her, frowning. “Where did you get these?”
“Why does that matter?”
He fixed her with an icy stare. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding up the red stone.
It was safer to say nothing, she realized, and she remained silent so that he would continue.
“This is a red diamond, one of the rarest and most valuable of all diamonds. Red diamonds come from the Argyle mine in Australia. The mine’s been closed since 2020.”
Amber felt her pulse quicken. “How much is it worth?” she asked breathlessly.
“A fancy red diamond can go for eighty thousand to one million dollars per carat. This stone is over one carat.”
She moved to the edge of her seat, excitement coursing through her. “I have more stones. And what about the regular diamond? Is it valuable?”
Becker frowned again and cocked his head. “I have to ask again how they were acquired, Mrs. Parrish.”
She pressed her lips together and decided to wing it. “They’ve been in my husband’s family a long time. With my husband in prison, our financial situation has become precarious. He’s asked me to sell the gems.”
“And there is proof that these gems were lawfully procured?”
“I don’t have any paperwork if that’s what you mean, but as I said, they’ve been in the family forever.”
Becker wrapped the stones in paper, handing them back to her and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but without proof of their provenance, I can do nothing with these.” He picked up a pen and began to write on a notepad.
“Wait—”
He put a hand up to stop her from speaking and slid a paper across the desk on which he’d written a name and phone number. “This man can help you. I’ll let him know you’ll be calling.”
Amber grabbed the note, reading the name he’d written. She looked up from the paper, her eyes flashing. “Mr. Stones? Is this some kind of joke?”
“I assure you he is no joke.” Becker rose from his chair and extended his hand once again. “I hope to do business with you another time.”
Fat chance,Amber thought, ignoring the outstretched hand. She stuffed the note in her handbag and without a word marched from the room in fury.
She stood outside the building and leaned against the wall, trying to decide what to do next as traffic growled and people hurried past.
“Hey, lady. You buyin’ or sellin’? What are you lookin’ for?” a hawker yelled as he walked toward Amber.
She shook her head and waved him away. It was ridiculous to keep standing here. She had no choice, and pulling the piece of paper from her bag, she began walking as she tapped the number into her phone.
“Hello,” a gruff voice said, answering on the second ring.
“Mr. Stones?”
“And you,” she replied, shaking his hand.
“Please have a seat.” He placed a hand on one of the grayleather chairs in front of his desk. “Would you care for something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Amber said, sitting down.
Becker went to his desk and sat, and Amber saw him give a slight nod to the young woman who then left the room and closed the door. She wondered if something was going on between them. There was no wedding ring on Becker’s tanned finger, and even though he was probably a good fifteen years older than Miss Red Lips and had streaks of silver through his hair, he was extremely attractive in a buttoned-up sort of way.
Becker fingered the gold cuff link on his sleeve and leaned slightly forward. “You said on the phone that you had some stones you wished to have appraised and possibly sell.”
“Yes.” Amber withdrew a small drawstring pouch from her purse and handed it to Becker across the desk. She hadn’t brought the whole cache, only one of the diamonds and one each of the pink and red stones she couldn’t identify.
Becker opened the bag and carefully emptied the three stones onto a velvet-lined tray, picking up one after another with his tweezers and looking at them with his naked eyes. Then, picking up his loupe, he brought the first pink stone nearer, holding it with a diamond plunger and examining it more closely from all angles, then did the same with the red one. After a few minutes he looked up at her, frowning. “Where did you get these?”
“Why does that matter?”
He fixed her with an icy stare. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding up the red stone.
It was safer to say nothing, she realized, and she remained silent so that he would continue.
“This is a red diamond, one of the rarest and most valuable of all diamonds. Red diamonds come from the Argyle mine in Australia. The mine’s been closed since 2020.”
Amber felt her pulse quicken. “How much is it worth?” she asked breathlessly.
“A fancy red diamond can go for eighty thousand to one million dollars per carat. This stone is over one carat.”
She moved to the edge of her seat, excitement coursing through her. “I have more stones. And what about the regular diamond? Is it valuable?”
Becker frowned again and cocked his head. “I have to ask again how they were acquired, Mrs. Parrish.”
She pressed her lips together and decided to wing it. “They’ve been in my husband’s family a long time. With my husband in prison, our financial situation has become precarious. He’s asked me to sell the gems.”
“And there is proof that these gems were lawfully procured?”
“I don’t have any paperwork if that’s what you mean, but as I said, they’ve been in the family forever.”
Becker wrapped the stones in paper, handing them back to her and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but without proof of their provenance, I can do nothing with these.” He picked up a pen and began to write on a notepad.
“Wait—”
He put a hand up to stop her from speaking and slid a paper across the desk on which he’d written a name and phone number. “This man can help you. I’ll let him know you’ll be calling.”
Amber grabbed the note, reading the name he’d written. She looked up from the paper, her eyes flashing. “Mr. Stones? Is this some kind of joke?”
“I assure you he is no joke.” Becker rose from his chair and extended his hand once again. “I hope to do business with you another time.”
Fat chance,Amber thought, ignoring the outstretched hand. She stuffed the note in her handbag and without a word marched from the room in fury.
She stood outside the building and leaned against the wall, trying to decide what to do next as traffic growled and people hurried past.
“Hey, lady. You buyin’ or sellin’? What are you lookin’ for?” a hawker yelled as he walked toward Amber.
She shook her head and waved him away. It was ridiculous to keep standing here. She had no choice, and pulling the piece of paper from her bag, she began walking as she tapped the number into her phone.
“Hello,” a gruff voice said, answering on the second ring.
“Mr. Stones?”
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