Jumping in Puddles Read Free

cabinet and checked it out. “I was going to bid on that.”
    Ellie glared. “No, you weren’t. The diamonds are tiny. Nowhere near enough bling for you. Please, Bernie.”
    “How much?”
    Everything I have . “Five thousand.” Though if she won it, there’d be a fifteen percent buyer’s premium plus tax. Another nine hundred pounds. Shit . But what choice did she have?
    “Why do you want it?” he asked. “You never wear rings. You never wear jewelry, come to that.”
    “It’s exactly what my mother’s been looking for. I have to get it for her.” Ellie was torn between trying to look cool about it and absolute desperation that she not miss out on the purchase. She could get her own bidder’s number, but some inner sense was telling her not to. She’d learned not to ignore her instincts.
    “Is there something I’m not seeing?” Bernie frowned at it through the glass.
    “It’s just a pretty ring.”
    He fell silent as the auction started, and they moved to the back of the room where he preferred to stand. Ellie’s heart began to pound even harder as the auctioneer rattled through the lots. Almost every item started with a commission bid, and alongside the auctioneer, clerks sat in front of laptops communicating with Internet buyers.
    Bernie made the winning offer for a Cartier bracelet but lost out on the other items much to his obvious annoyance. They crept closer and closer to the lot. Ellie had been watching the crowd, noting what they bid on. She recognized a few of the dealers. If one of them bought the ring, at least she’d know where it was, but if it went to an Internet or commission buyer, it was as good as lost again. Unless she broke into Dacre’s to check their records. Oh God.
    “Lot one hundred and twelve,” said the auctioneer, and Ellie crossed her fingers behind her back. “A pretty rose-gold-and-diamond ring. Twenty-two-carat crown gold. A large number of tiny diamonds nicely worked. Possibly Russian. I have a commission bid of two thousand pounds.”
    Ellie felt sick. The bidding went up in spurts, and Bernie stayed silent. When the offers slowed and the auctioneer played with his gavel, she nudged Bernie, and he glared.
    At four thousand pounds Ellie verged on throwing up. Bernie came in a four and half, and the person left bidding against him was on the Internet. When the bidding reached five and not Bernie’s bid, Ellie’s heart swapped places with her stomach. That was it. She’d lost.
    She imagined herself getting arrested for breaking into Dacre’s. “Keep bidding,” she whispered.
    “Five two,” Bernie called.
    One of the guys on the computer nodded to the auctioneer. Damn and blast, another bid.
    “Any advance on five three?” asked the auctioneer.
    “Five four,” Bernie said.
    Oh God, what is he doing? Ellie knew she needed to grab his arm and stop him, but she couldn’t. She also knew Bernie wanted her to owe him for this.
    When the man on the computer shook his head, Ellie barely held back her gasp of relief. The auctioneer looked around the room for new bids, and Ellie wanted to yell at him to hurry. As the hammer came down, she squeaked. Fantastic, but apart from the extra four hundred, that was another…er…seventy-two pounds on top of the nine hundred buyer’s premium.
    Bernie smiled at her. “Now do I get to see your underwear?”
    She kicked him in the shin, but not hard.
    “Ouch. I suppose you want me to get it for you right this minute?”
    “Please. Think you can sweet talk Maureen into providing the name of the seller?”
    He looked at her suspiciously. “Something you’re not telling me?”
    A version of the truth might stop him asking more questions. “The ring was stolen a long while ago along with some other items.”
    “Stolen?” Bernie visibly paled.
    “Hundreds of years ago.”
    He gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t bloody matter how long ago. Nemo dat quod non habet . You can’t sell what you don’t have. Any sale can be