Put a Ring On It Read Online Free Page A

were all the rage back in the sixteenth century. You could put poison in here and use it to kill your enemy or yourself.”
    Lila looked horrified. “Really?”
    â€œReally.” Brighton marveled at the craftsmanship of the piece. “That’s what the owner meant when she said she didn’t want to use it for evil.”
    Lila gazed at her with renewed interest. “How do you know all that? Are you a jeweler?”
    â€œNo, I’m in insurance.”
    â€œYou deal with poison rings in insurance?” Those big brown eyes had gone from sweet to speculative.
    â€œMy grandfather was a bench jeweler. He did it all: stone setting, engraving, wax carving, forging, polishing. I used to help him when I was a teenager.” Brighton closed her eyes for a moment, flooded with feelings she couldn’t quite label. And didn’t want to. “Once upon a time, I wanted to be a jewelry designer.” She opened her eyes. “Back before I understood that being a responsible adult requires health benefits and retirement plans and mortgage payments.”
    Lila stepped back, sizing her up. “But you’re not a heartbreak tourist?”
    â€œNo, I have a fiancé.” Brighton tucked her hand into her pocket. “I’m just visiting a friend from college.”
    Lila continued to look her over with that appraising, acquisitive gleam. “Do you have any interest in staying for the summer season? I’ve been looking for a designer to coordinate with my bench jeweler.”
    â€œI’m only here for the weekend, and then it’s back to reality. Sorry.” Brighton turned toward the door. “I should get going so I’m not late to meet my friend.”
    â€œWhere are you meeting her?”
    â€œThe Whinery.”
    â€œWhat a coincidence—I’m headed that way, too. I’ll walk with you.” Lila grabbed a fifties-style black leather handbag from beneath the counter. “What’s your name?”
    â€œBrighton.” In an effort to head off the inevitable questions, she explained, “As in Brighton Beach. The one in Brooklyn, not Britain. My mom had a thing for New York in the eighties.”
    Lila laughed. “So did mine. Welcome to Black Dog Bay, Brighton. Here’s hoping you’ll decide to stay for a bit.”
    â€œIt seems like a lovely town, but I really can’t. I have to be back to my office on Monday—places to go, people to see, reports to write, accounting rules to research.” She paused. “I swear it’s not as dull as it sounds.”
It’s duller.
“But in any event, I have to get back.”
    Lila gave her a knowing smile as she flipped the sign on the glass door from OPEN to CLOSED . “That’s what they all say in the beginning.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    â€œLook at him. Who is
that
?”
    As Brighton followed Lila into the crowded bar, she heard a trio of women laughing and murmuring.
    During their phone conversation, Kira had described the Whinery as “a cute little spot to people watch.” She had neglected to mention the profusion of pink, toile, and crystal chandeliers. There were silver bowls of chocolate candy dotting the glossy black bar top and a curly-haired female bartender pouring fruity cocktails. Everything in there appeared sugarcoated and sweet . . . except the clientele, who were less interested in the wine list and more interested in verbally undressing one of the male patrons.
    â€œThat’s the man I’ve been looking for all my life,” one woman declared. “Or at least for this weekend.”
    The guy on the other side of the bar was impossible to miss. Tall and broad shouldered, he radiated masculinity amid all the pastel frippery. He was so handsome he looked like he should be shirtless on the cover of a romance novel, all strong jawline and smoldering dark eyes and tousled dark hair. But good