Page 224 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

She’s right. All that does matter is the who . But color, cut, clarity, and carats are pretty important, too. Sometimes in life, you can streamline. You can simplify. You can lean on a life hack.

Choosing an engagement ring is not one of those times.

As promised, the next morning I arrange to take her to Katherine’s in Union Square, but first we have details to tend to.

As Mia showers, a burly man with a beard knocks on the door, and he’s flanked by a redheaded dude with tattoos down his arms. “Hey there. You’re here for the couch and stuff?”

“Yep. Salvation Army.”

I let them in and help them lift then carry the sofa down to their truck full of donations. The next item to go is her desk, along with a coffee table. I help them carry boxes of books, cookware, and other items that are on their way to a second life. She already donated her car to the ASPCA.

I thank the guys, give them a tip, and head upstairs to Mia’s increasingly empty apartment. She stands in the middle of the tiny living room, eating the almonds and scanning the place where she’s lived since she started Pure Beauty in her kitchen with an idea, a vision, and a business plan.

“Will you miss it?”

“Probably,” she says, a tinge of sadness in her sweet voice.

“That makes sense. It would be strange not to.”

“I have a lot of fond memories of this city. This whole coast. But I also know I’m going where I want to be.”

“And you don’t mind ditching so much of your stuff?” I ask her for probably the twelfth time.

“I don’t need two couches. I don’t need two beds. All I need is to add a metric ton of pillows to yours and I’ll be good to go,” she says, not for the first time since we discussed this idea.

“Good. As long as you’re sure,” I say.

She meets my gaze across all the space in her home and taps her finger against her lip.

“Let’s see. In exchange for stuff, I get new pillows, access to one brother in the city, another in the building, and the master sandwich maker in the same home.

I’m okay saying goodbye to a little thing known as a couch.

” Then she walks to me, sets the bag of almonds down on her purse, and presses her hands to my chest. “Also, now I have twenty-four-hour access to my own personal mover anytime I need something heavy lifted.”

“That is, indeed, one of the perks of living with me.” I shake my head, amused at my own faux pas. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Almost-Milligan. I meant to say that’s one of the perks of being married to me.”

And an hour later, I introduce her to another one of the perks.

Ring shopping.

Since Spencer’s family owns Katherine’s, which has locations around the world, he arranged for the store manager in San Francisco to personally assist us in picking a ring and sizing it today. Mia takes her time, trying on as many rings as she wants.

She shows them all to me. “I really don’t know what to look for.”

“You didn’t imagine what you might want when you helped Max and Chase pick rings?”

She shakes her head. “No. I swear. I wasn’t thinking of anything but what Henley and Josie would want.” She takes a beat. “Which is kind of funny, since I was definitely crazy for you when I was helping Max pick out the ring.”

“And you never fantasized about what you’d want?”

She leans in close and brings her mouth to mine. “All my fantasies about you were of the bedroom variety.”

I growl my appreciation under my breath. “Be sure to share all your fantasies with me, but right now, let’s keep looking.”

The helpful brunette manager brings her more rings. Mia tries many on, and when she slides an emerald-cut ring onto her finger, my phone buzzes with my sister’s text tone.

Evie : HOW IS IT GOING? ARE YOU RING SHOPPING? DID SHE PICK? DYING TO KNOW. SIMPLY DYING.

Patrick : She’s trying on the whole store. It’s adorable.

Evie : GAH. I WISH I WERE THERE.

I stuff my phone in my pocket as Mia shows me another solitaire.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“Mia, I think they’re all beautiful. Because they’re on you.”

She narrows her eyes, then glances at the manager. “He’s no help,” she says playfully.

The woman laughs and then holds up one finger as an assistant scurries over to her. “Just one moment.”

She steps away from us to chat with her employee, then rejoins us to tell us she has one more ring she thinks might be perfect.

Mia shrugs happily. “I’d love to see this perfect ring.”

“One moment,” the manager says, then heads to another side of the display case, roots around amid all the gleaming diamonds, and returns a minute later. “I think you might like this one, Ms. Summers.”

When Mia slides on the ring, she gasps. “I think this is the one,” she whispers reverently. “Can I take a picture and show your sister?”

“I assure you there’s nothing Evie would like more than to be a part of this.”

“Wait. Did she know you were going to propose?”

I rub my knuckles against my ear. “I have the pierced eardrum to prove it,” I say, then tell her about Evie’s excited reaction when I called her while we were taxiing for takeoff yesterday.

I snap a photo and send it to my sister.

Patrick: Mia loves this ring. She wants to know if you approve.

I look at my bride-to-be. “Now, we wait.”

But not for long. Ten seconds later, my phone beeps.

Evie: I BOW DOWN TO THAT STUNNING TWO-CARAT ART DECO-STYLE VINTAGE RING THAT I JUST PICKED OUT FOR YOUR brIDE!!!!

I laugh and show Mia the message.

“Your sister picked this out?”

“Evidently.”

Mia turns to the manager, question marks in her eyes.

The brunette’s eyes twinkle. “My associate just received a phone call from an Evie Milligan, recommending we show you this ring.”

Mia’s smile is one I will remember for all time. “Sisters always know best.”

Then, we choose two platinum bands and opt to have them engraved.

The next morning, the movers arrive, and they pack up Mia’s remaining items. The head mover tells us the boxes should be at the destination in Battery Park City in seven days.

I grab her suitcases and my duffel bag as she locks the door behind her. For a moment, she simply stares at the door, then she takes a breath and turns around.

“Are you good?”

“So good.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

She drops the key with the landlord, blows a kiss to her building, and then threads her fingers through mine. “I am so good with everything.”

We pick up the bands and the resized engagement ring, and catch a flight to Vegas.