to appeal to his vanity. Steer him away from trying to trip her up.
His only response was a smile.
The smell in the meat section was similarly heady, the tang of fresh blood blending with fresh fish to
provide an aroma that reminded Jazz strangely of the makeup shop. It consumed the atmosphere of the
place, and any amount of extract ducts and air-conditioning could not change that.
Jazz berated herself for glancing up at the ceiling. Air-conditioning, yes, and extravagant plasterwork,
decorative light fittings, and hams hanging from heavy hooks. But, as Terence had said, there were
cameras everywhere in here.
After Terence selected a cut of meat and added even more to his collection of bags, he touched her
arm and gen-tly guided her back through the fruit section —more heady smells, more glorious
displays—and into the jewelry rooms.
Nothing too extravagant, he had said. Nothing too expen-sive. All the really pricey stuff is well
protected, and much of it isn't even on display. But we'll not go through this for something cheap.
He told her that he'd leave it up to her what she decided to take. Another test.
They were the perfect happy couple as they passed into the fine-jewelry section. Jazz's heart sped
up at what was to come, and she could feel her senses heightened. It might well be that Terence was
testing her. But this, she promised herself, was going to be fun.
"That one's gorgeous."
Jazz tapped her fingernail on the glass display cabinet above a tray of necklaces. It held five pieces
of jewelry and she was indicating the most garish one, a heavy metal chain with bulky mountings for the
five diamonds.
"Which one, madam?" the jewelry manager asked.
"That... Oh, that one's nice too."
"Can we see them all?" Terence asked.
Jazz rolled her eyes at the assistant. "Steve!"
Terence held out his hands in a what-can-I-do gesture. "Show her this one, she'll like that one. Show
her that one, she'll like this one. By the time she chooses, her birthday will be over." He frowned and leaned
forward. "Oh my, that is a beautiful piece!" He was examining the assistant's neck-lace, a subtle, thin chain
with a single sapphire in a tasteful mount. The woman actually blushed, smiling at him just a little too long
for comfort.
Jazz smiled inwardly. Oh yes, she likes him.
"Don't you think, Lucy?"
Jazz glanced at the woman's neck and saw a nervous flush starting across her chest. "Quite," she
said.
Terence smiled at the assistant and nodded down at the display case. "Well, we'll have a look at
those," he said.
Jazz wasn't sure she liked this I'm-in-charge act from Terence, but it seemed to be working. The
assistant barely saw her anymore, and even when she withdrew the tray, un-clipped the necklace, and
placed it around Jazz's neck, it was Terence she looked at.
"Not bad," Terence said.
The woman nodded. "It's gorgeous. Catches her eyes."
Her, not your. Jazz batted her eyelids at Terence, know-ing that the assistant would not see.
"How much is it?" Jazz asked.
The woman moved back slightly, taking the necklace from Jazz's throat and laying it out across both
of her hands. It caught the artificial lights and dazzled, throwing light a thousand different ways. "This piece
is seven thousand pounds," she said. "It's quite unique, handmade, and there are matching earrings and a
bracelet if you're interested."
"Seven thousand," Jazz said, trying to sound disap-pointed. Seven fucking thousand! she was
actually thinking, but she was delighted at her act. Her face did not actually drop, but she feigned sudden
disinterest.
"This one looks glorious," Terence said. "More similar to your own, madam."
The woman blushed deeper, fussing around as if trying to hide it. "Sorry to say, mine isn't quite the
same quality."
"Jewelry is given worth by its wearer, not its maker. That's what I always say." He was looking right
at her and continued to do so until the woman met his gaze. She looked away again, and Jazz saw a brief,
wry smile curl his lip.
He knows all about himself, she thought. But there was a big difference between arrogance and
confidence. And, any-way, it was all part of the job.
The woman swapped necklaces and held the second one to Jazz's throat.
Terence hummed in appreciation.
Jazz asked how much this one was.
"This is nine thousand four hundred," the woman said. "It really does catch your character, madam.
So stylish and modern."
"Nine thousand," Jazz said. She reached up and held the necklace. She did not actually force the
woman to let go, but still the assistant took one step back, keeping her eyes on the piece.
"Perhaps we should look more in the five-figure range," Terence said.
Jazz threw him a smile, making sure the woman saw.
"There." Terence leaned across the
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