Page 12 of Spark (Lust & Luster)

Aryanna

I ’ve been watching my phone for days now.

Waiting is the hardest part. I freelance for jewelers and individuals, and I rent space at a small jeweler’s here in town.

My workflow is a little irregular, and I can swing from being so busy I can’t keep up, to slow and quiet, wondering if I’ll ever get a new project.

Right now I have a few stones to cut, but nothing pressing, every buzz from my phone has me jumping, only to find it’s spam or a reminder to drink water.

The longer I wait, the more I start second-guessing every smile, every nod they gave me in that meeting.

I unlock the back door to the studio and let myself in. There’s a steaming cup of coffee at my bench.

Tony Wu, owner of the studio and a master jeweler, peeks in. “I knew you were coming.”

“You’re good,” I say as I remove my coat.

“Still no news?”

I shake my head. “They seemed to love my presentation. If they don’t go for it, then it’s dead. I mean, everything seemed spot on. They were smiling and laughing. I could answer all their questions, and I could tell they liked what they were hearing.”

“You’ve got this,” he assures me.

Tony is a third-generation jeweler and caters mostly to the Chinese tourists. But he’s an amazing designer, and we’ve collaborated on a few things. I want him to work with me if the company launches. He’s too good not to.

He places a large uncut amethyst geode in front of me and smiles.

I pick it up and inspect it. I can see one large stone or several smaller ones. “Where did you find this?”

“Jenny found it at the Salvation Army Thrift Store.”

Jenny is Tony’s wife, and she buys things to resell on eBay all the time. She makes a killing.

I look up at him, feeling my eyes go wide.

The stone fits comfortably in the palm of my hand.

It was likely broken off of a much larger geode.

I’ve not seen one this big in the raw except in books.

The color looks like it’s a deep violet with pink at the edges.

I can’t believe this didn’t get picked up by someone.

A stone like this could be a showpiece, the kind of thing that makes a jeweler’s reputation.

I can already see it—polished, mounted, catching the light in some glittering gala photo.

I breathe out. “What is she thinking? This is a huge stone. It can most likely be cut into a dozen pairs of earrings for you with matching pendants, or we can make a significant pendant and ring for one of your wealthy clients.”

My mind is already whirring. I will need to remove the outer coating and do some polishing before I can see where the flaws in the stone are.

“You tell us what you can do with it. The bigger the stones, the better.” Tony is all grins and looks like he’s up to no good, but the front door buzzes, and he needs to go let in his customer.

I set the amethyst aside to finish the golden topaz I promised a clothing designer who needs it for a headdress she wants to wear. Good polishing helps bring the brilliance out, and this is a long process. I check my phone periodically, but still nothing.

Once I have the topaz taken care of, I shift gears and polish off the outer layer of the amethyst. The thing about amethysts is that they don’t always have uniform color.

I can see that’s the case with this one, but there are still some beautiful cuts in here.

My favorite these days is the cushion cut.

It’s more shallow, so it shows off the brilliance with the light shining through the stone.

I weigh and measure the stone, making some calculations, and then I’m ready to present my ideas to Jenny and Tony.

I text Jenny and ask her to meet me at the shop tomorrow. I can see on the closed-circuit televisions that Tony is too busy to be interrupted, so I text him that I’m heading out, but we can meet tomorrow morning.

I walk about four blocks over to an out-of-the-way coffee shop—not because they have fantastic coffee, but because they’re across the street from Luster’s offices, and I’ve taken to sitting here in hopes of catching a glimpse of Dante. I did once, but it’s rare.

I take my place by the window and drink my coffee. I never stay long. It’s ridiculous, really. Half the time I tell myself I’m over him, and the other half I’m angling for a seat that gives me the best view of his front door.

My phone rings, and I can see it’s Benchmark’s mainline.

I take a deep breath before I answer. “Aryanna Karimi.”

“Aryanna? This is Suzanne Price with Benchmark.”

“Hey, Suzanne. How are you?”

“I’m great. I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for lunch tomorrow at Waterfront Café to celebrate our business partnership.”

My smile blooms across my face, and my heart is beating triple time. “Really?”

“Without a doubt! And I’m going to be one of our first customers with that signature necklace.”

“I’ll happily make it for you!” I’m practically yelling in the shop, and people are staring, but I don’t care.

My fingers are trembling so hard I nearly drop my phone.

This is it—the moment I’ve been chasing for years—and all I can think is that I wish my mom could see me right now.

“I’m so excited. What time should I be there? ”

“Let’s meet at the Waterfront Café about twelve thirty.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” I stop for a moment. “Suzanne, thank you for taking a chance on me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

The next day, I take a deep breath outside the Waterfront Café. My hands are shaking as I reach for the door.

I walk up to the hostess. “I’m meeting Suzanne Price.”

She looks at me and smiles. “She just arrived. Please follow me.”

Suzanne is sitting at a table at the center of the entire restaurant. She stands and blankets me with a warm embrace. “I’m so excited!”

My heart hammers. “I am too!”

I sit down, and the hostess places my napkin in my lap. Suzanne leans in and hands me a manila envelope. “Here’s the contract. Have a lawyer look at it and get it back to me by Friday next week.”

“Okay.” I slip the contract in my bag. I sense him before I see him—the shift in air, the subtle pull of eyes turning toward him. Then there he is, all sharp lines and contained energy, heading straight for me. Dante strides over to our table.

“Aryanna.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

I nearly choke. I’ve both wanted to and dreaded running into him, but right now couldn’t be a worse time. “Hi, Dante.”

“I wasn’t sure you made it back to San Francisco.”

A tall man with dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes appears behind him. He scrutinizes me and gives Suzanne a death stare. “Suzanne.”

“Dillon. So lovely to see you.” She takes a sip of her iced tea. “Please let me introduce you to our newest investment. This is Aryanna Karimi, founder of Amal. They’re a line of precious and semiprecious jewelry.”

Dante’s eyes dilate to pinpricks, and his lips purse.

I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to see the moment Dante’s regard for me turned to pure hatred. But I did, and it washes over me like a cold blanket. It’s like a door slamming shut between us. One second there’s the memory of what we shared, and the next, there’s nothing but ice.

“Now it all makes sense,” he grits out.

“I told you I was sorry,” I say to his back.

Dillon looks at me puzzled. He gives a curt nod to Suzanne and walks away.

“Who was that?” Suzanne asks.

“Dante Marino, one of the four brothers who founded Luster.”

Suzanne sits back and smiles. “This is going to be fun.”

Thank you for reading the prequel to the Lust and Luster series. Next up is Matteo. Here is a snake peek:

Matteo

T he view from my office stretches across the San Francisco Bay—floor-to-ceiling glass framing the curve of the waterfront and the silver sweep of the Bay Bridge in the distance.

From thirty-five stories up, the city hums beneath me, all steel and glass and motion.

Inside, everything is curated luxury—espresso-colored hardwoods, modern art, and the quiet hush that comes with money well spent.

It’s the kind of place designed to impress clients—and remind you you’re playing in the big leagues.

It’s time. I’ve been counting down the minutes and it’s finally here.

“Dana, I’ll be back after lunch,” I say, grabbing my jacket from the back of my office chair.

“Good luck! Knock ’em dead.” She shoots me a cheesy grin and throws in a double thumbs-up as I pass.

But this isn’t just another lunch on the calendar—it’s the lunch.

I’ve landed a meeting with the head buyer at Olivier International, one of San Francisco’s premier luxury goods companies.

They design, manufacture, and distribute high-end jewelry and watches, and they’ve got the global prestige to back it up.

The woman I’m meeting? Ellory Matisse. Daughter of the legendary founder, Olivier Matisse, and the undisputed powerhouse running the show.

She oversees more than two hundred stores across one hundred and twenty-five countries and is widely considered one of the most influential women in the luxury market.

Scoring this meeting took months. And no, our PR team can’t claim the win. This one’s thanks to a standout showing at Paris Fashion Week—and maybe a little luck.

Normally, I stick to the tech side of Luster, our family’s diamond empire. But with my brothers, Dante and Luca, tied up on the East Coast doing Luster company business, I’m stepping in. Partnering with Olivier would be our diamonds. Their brand. The goal? A perfect match.

I’ve suited up in my lucky charcoal-gray wool, expertly tailored, paired with a crisp white shirt and a bold red tie—the exact shade of Olivier’s iconic packaging. A detail I’m counting on her noticing. My life is beautifully uncomplicated—just me, my car, my company. No complications, no drama.

I arrive at the restaurant, One Market, early. Too early. I check in and take a seat, doing my best not to glance at my watch every thirty seconds. Still no sign of Ellory.

I shoot Dana text.