Carats

By Emily Duvall

Self-centered, rude, and undeniably handsome, Damon Harrison can’t be bothered to help anyone besides himself. As a lawyer for his family’s jewelry store, he’s used to appraising diamonds with impeccable standards and a critical eye. But when a beautiful stranger asks for help, he rejects everything about her.

Lila Kent is used to the dark. At the age of sixteen, she lost her eyesight. Ten years later, Lila’s carefully crafted world is shattered by a diamond ring—one that promises more darkness.

Forced to choose between staying safe or seeking Damon’s help, Lila learns that people aren’t always who they seem, the heart doesn’t always win, and that things left behind aren’t always meant to be found.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: Oct 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781682992579

Book preview

Chapter 1

A carat is a unit of weight to measure gemstones. Her diamond is two carats.

Karat is the level of gold in metal. Her wedding band is 24k gold.

Damon knew the difference long before he decided to become a lawyer and the writer of the contract in front of him got the distinction wrong. None of his staff caught the minor error, but he did. Straight-faced and typing furiously, he made the correction.

Seated behind the impressive antique desk, Damon’s eyes reviewed the rest of the document on his computer screen. Appointments at the Harrison Law Firm were booked well in advance. A knock at the door caused him to look up with reluctance.

Mia stood in the doorway, a file in her hand, and a finish-whatever-you’re-doing look. Miss Kent wants to know if we should reschedule, she said.

Not necessary, Damon said, closing his laptop. Only fifteen minutes late, Damon didn’t mind letting the clients wait. If they wanted his expertise, they could give up a few minutes.

She’s brought someone with her.

A lawyer? Damon pushed back his chair. He didn’t want to deal with another lawyer.

Miss Donovan isn’t a lawyer. She’s an advocate for Miss Kent. A fact you should know from Lila’s file.

He flashed Mia an annoyed look. Are we on a first name basis with Miss Kent?

No, Mia said.

Good. The important highlights in Miss Kent’s file included her net worth and her relationship to the late Christopher Barrett, a business tycoon and her uncle. Damon protected legal transactions related to money. Refresh my memory on the way to the conference room. Damon opened his desk drawer and grabbed his tablet. Let’s not keep her waiting any longer.

She’s blind, Mia said over her shoulder as she exited the office. In case you missed that information.

Great, he mumbled.

Really, Harrison, try not to be so sensitive. Mia continued walking.

They headed to the conference room, a spacious area at the end of the hall with two walls consisting of glass. The expensive renovations to the building happened before Damon took over the place. The timing couldn’t have been better with the installation of new hardwood floors and windows plus a fresh coat of paint. Throw in a few designer quality furnishings and the place spoke for itself.

Damon entered the conference room first, with Mia trailing behind. The space stretched out in front of them. Four large windows opened up to the set of the magnificent skyline of San Francisco with the Transamerica building at the center. The rest of the room was minimalistic in style with a classic boardroom and a long, dark wooded table and twelve chairs.

Two women sat at the far end of the table. They both looked in his direction.

Which one? he said, his voice low.

The one to your right, Mia whispered back, indicating the brunette. She’s Lila.

Good afternoon, he said, walking directly to his client with a confident, outstretched hand. A practiced, powerful hand that brokered important deals and graced the skin of some of the most beautiful women in the world. Miss Kent, he enunciated clear, his hand outstretched. I’m Damon Harrison.

An unexpected pair of beautiful brown eyes met his, a faint glimmer played off them. Thick lashes blinked back at him. Chestnut hair with dark streaks swept over her shoulder. He noticed other details too, like the impeccable makeup job tingeing Lila’s pink cheeks. Her glossy red lips complimented her fair skin. He appreciated the dark sweater and black jeans accentuating her lithe figure, but no client had ever worn anything as mundane as bulky athletic shoes to his office before. He wasn’t certain what to think about that.

Lila tipped her head up to his, causing him to do a double take. Those eyes of hers looked…normal. She didn’t look blind. Is this a joke? he said.

I haven’t said anything funny, Lila said, blinking, Maggie, did you?

No, said the other woman with a sweeping grin. She touched Lila’s elbow. A signal. Lila, Mr. Harrison is holding out his hand for you to shake.

Lila lifted her hand. Damon met hers with swift, impersonal movement, intending to let go right away. Except she molded her hand to his, curling her fingers with warmth to his hurried ones. Lila Kent, she said.

Damon slid his hand away and turned to the other woman. Miss Donovan, I presume?

Yes, she said, shaking his hand with a coldness matching his.

A word, Miss Donovan, he said, nodding his head to indicate he wanted to speak with her in private.

Maggie got up and met him at the other end of the table. Is there a problem? she said, frowning.

She’s staring right at me.

Maggie folded her arms over her chest. I don’t understand your confusion.

She’s supposed to be blind.

I can hear the both of you, Lila said, irritated.

There’s nothing wrong with her, Maggie said loudly. She’s adept at learning new environments, that’s all.

Good, then my client and I will get started. Giving both women a surreptitious glance, he sat down. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the meeting.

Did you know my uncle? Lila asked before he turned on his tablet.

Why she sounded so irritated made no sense to Damon. The whole inheritance-responsibility rules always put him between a dead person and a living one, and that never went well. Not personally, no. I knew him through other clients.

She ran her finger over her chin and stopped at her lips, tapping them thoughtfully. I’ve never heard of you.

Is this going to be a problem for you?

She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. I’m used to knowing the key players in my uncle’s life. They always translate to someone significant in my life.

Damon’s gaze darted to hers. Though you don’t know me and I don’t know you, I am now important in your life, specifically when it comes to your money. I am the best at what I do. You’ll have to trust your uncle’s decision.

Trust my uncle’s decision, she grumbled. I’m twenty-six.

Is there something wrong with being twenty-six?

"I am an adult—an adult who’s been doing her own finances for years."

Your uncle left you… Damon paused to look at the figure on his screen. …close to five hundred million dollars. No one is capable of handling that kind of money on their own. Obviously, this makes you susceptible to someone mismanaging your finances. My role is to protect your wealth.

For how long? Until I’m dead?

Oh, come on. Damon glanced again at his tablet. Appears so, yes.

Please try to understand, she pleaded, leaning forward with a hint of desperation in her eyes. My independence is important to me. It’s…everything.

Everything and more, Maggie chimed in and scooted closer to Lila. What Lila is trying to say is she’s been able to take care of herself on her own for years. If you don’t feel you can cut some corners and make arrangements to give her more freedom, she can always go with another lawyer.

Damon eyed Maggie evenly. "Don’t let me stop you from hiring someone else. Whether you stick with me or not is Lila’s business. You still have to go through a lawyer and a judge. There is a process in place and one that won’t happen because you snap your fingers. Miss Donovan, he said, annoyed with her. How exactly are you acquainted with my client?"

She’s my friend, Lila answered. I asked her to come with me today.

Okay… He drew out the word with a long breath. Going back to your concern about independence. Your money, while in my oversight, is always yours. You have access to your funds whenever you want. Damon tapped his finger on table and looked over the finer points of the contract on his screen. You do have a monthly cap. Specified amounts, like a monthly allowance. These limits are set forth by your uncle and not by me, just so we’re clear. You are going to be comfortable for a very long time, which is good considering your situation.

A contemptuous line formed at Lila’s lips. My situation?

You’re blind, he said bluntly.

You think that makes me unable to control my own finances.

Yes. He leaned back and observed her with cool annoyance, knowing he’d already won the argument. He saw things clearly. She did not. You have limitations.

She reacted with her whole body. Her eyes flared. Incredulity settled into her frown, lips straight and pressed together hard. Limitations?

For one, you can’t see your finances. You can’t see numbers on paper, unless your bank is in the habit of sending out statements printed in braille? Do they offer this service? No doubt, costly.

No.

His piercing gaze landed on her. You’re now dependent on me to be honest with you—all the time—about your money. That’s my job.

I have other people I can trust with this.

Damon found this hard to believe. Do you? Because if so, your uncle would have put them in charge.

She squirmed in her chair.

"This level of money has a funny effect on people. Even the ones you trust. I will tell you I do read. Very well. Numbers on paper. Text on a screen. Anything in front of me. You can contest this or trade lawyers. I won’t stop you. Until then, I will oversee the flow of your money."

A rush of color struck her cheeks. Anger sparkled in her eyes, turning them vivid. Lila shut her mouth and sat back. She re-crossed her arms over her chest. Fine.

Mr. Harrison, Maggie said, turning in her chair to face him. What Lila’s not saying is she’s concerned you will not be accessible. She knows you have other obligations aside from running this law firm. You work for your brother’s jewelry store, too.

Damon glanced at Lila. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. Clearly, she didn’t want Maggie exposing this information. Few people outside his law firm knew Damon handled the legal responsibilities of the family jewelry store. One of them had done some information digging. What exactly are you implying? he said, eager to be done.

Maggie’s thin eyebrows shot up. I—we’re saying, maybe you should stick to diamonds.

I can assure you I am well equipped to handle Lila.

A bitter laugh left Lila’s mouth. Interesting choice of words.

Damon’s jaw clamped down. The muscle in his neck ticked. He glanced at the sleek watch on his right wrist. He’d been sitting here for less than ten minutes and he felt like he was stuck in the middle of a contentious court case.

Lila cleared her throat. Maggie, leave Mr. Harrison and I alone for a minute. I need to talk to him.

You’re sure? Maggie said, shifting uncomfortably.

Yes.

Mia, Damon said, excusing her too. Give Miss Kent and I a moment.

Begrudgingly Maggie and Mia stood. Neither liked being asked to leave. The disdain on their faces said as much. The two women made their way to the doors. Maggie glanced back like a parent unsure about whether to leave her child. Mia opened the doors and together they left, leaving Lila and Damon alone.

Quietness settled over the room. Damon watched Lila push her hair over her shoulder. It’s just us now, he said, careful not to sound impatient. Anticipating her questions, he jumped right to business. I’d like to discuss your monthly allocation. There is enough for medical bills, prescriptions, doctor visits, in addition to your mortgage, groceries, a car service. Any investing will be done through me, on your behalf. You’re not allowed to make any big monetary decisions greater than three-thousand dollars without my input.

I already know this. Maggie read me the contract.

Damon turned off the tablet. Then what do you want to talk about?

Lila lifted her eyes to his. I asked to speak with you about another matter. Something not inheritance related.

Okay, he answered cautiously.

She removed the backpack off the back of her chair and brought it to her lap. Her fingers skimmed the fabric until she found the zipper and opened the pack. The reason Maggie mentioned the jewelry store is because I asked her read up on you. Like I said, I knew my uncle’s advisors, but I’d never heard of you. So, I asked Maggie to see what she could find.

Curious about the object she’d taken out of the backpack, he scooted closer to her. I’m waiting.

Lila’s head shot up. One wry eyebrow raised and her lips holding back a retort. She said nothing and instead, set a small black box in front of her.

The sight of the ring box distressed him. He understood what she wanted from him. I don’t appraise jewelry, he clipped.

But you do know how, right? she said sounding afresh with worry.

I can, but I don’t. You can make an appointment—

This won’t take much time. She pushed the box closer to him. "You are my lawyer. And I’m thinking of selling this ring. Your trusted opinion is welcomed."

Damon grumbled, I can’t help you.

More determined than ever, she persisted. Several years ago, my uncle gave me this ring. A lot has changed since then, and I forgot about it. He died, and, upon cleaning out his estate, boxes got moved to my house. I found the jewelry box after all these years. The color is blue and the shape is like a snowflake. At least, if I’m remembering correctly.

Damon eyed the box on the table. So, you brought the ring to me.

Yes.

There are hundreds of qualified jewelry appraisers in this city.

Yes, but your company, Trace Elements, has a great reputation. This is just more convenient. It takes me forever to go anywhere in this city. She batted her eyes at him. I’m sure you can put yourself in my position.

Skeptical, Damon scratched his head. You just described the ring. How is that possible if you can’t see?

Her eyes flickered up to his. I haven’t always been blind.

The answer surprised him. He eyed her a second, trying to work out the confusion Lila brought to him. Blind. Not blind. Used to see. None of it was any of his business and was taking up more than enough of his time. Damon reached over and grabbed the box. Alright, let’s have a look.

Thank you, she said, moving her chair close enough to him for their elbows to touch.

Damon opened the box. The sight before him astounded him. The ring in the center of black velvet. A diamond at first glance. Oval shape. Deep blue color. What have we here? he said, plucking the ring from its perch.

Lila angled her head as if she too, could see. That’s what I need you to tell me.

He held the ring at eye level and let the light play on the stone. A real blue diamond was rare. A genuine stone caught fire with brilliance at all the dimensions and facets unleashed by the light, like they couldn’t contain their beauty. They showed off.

This one did not.

The tool he should use to get a closer look, a loupe, sat in the top drawer on his desk. To leave the conference room might drag out this meeting, which he didn’t want to do. Instead, he relied on another method to tell the difference between a fake and a real diamond and involved a quick breath. He blew his warm breath on the diamond’s face and saw the fog did not disappear like it should. A genuine diamond wouldn’t hold onto his breath. He gave the band a once-over, white gold and solid. Probably a cheap mix of metals, which would leave a green circle around her finger within a week. The inside showed a set of numbers—not unusual. Jewelers left their mark or the karat weight of the gold.

Damon returned the ring to the box and closed the lid. You say your uncle gave this to you?

She parted her lips with baited breath. He did, yes. Years ago.

The answer wasn’t going to be the one she wanted to hear. Uncle Christopher, the multi-millionaire left her nothing. A useless piece of lab manufactured crystal. Your ring is fake, he said definitively.

Not possible, she said, stretching out her fingers to find the box. The expression on her face played out from certainty to disbelief. You must be wrong.

I’m sorry, but you’re not the first client to discover a family treasure is worthless.

This doesn’t make any sense, she said in frustration. It’s just… She looked up with blinking eyes. I might as well tell you. God, I’m going to sound ridiculous. I’d hoped you’d be willing to make a trade to get me out of these legal terms my uncle set.

A laugh slipped out Damon’s mouth. You wanted to negotiate your way out of your uncle’s terms with a ring?

With your jewelry store connection, I thought you’d jump at the chance. All her confidence left with one exhale. Yes.

Regardless of your intentions, I follow the rules of the will. Besides, a true blue diamond is hard to come by. I’ve only seen one and I’ve seen a lot of diamonds. A real one of this size, which I am guessing is around five carats, would be virtually non-existent. Your uncle probably got this on some sale rack at a super store.

"Ugh. None of this makes sense."

From now on let’s stick to the money. Not diamonds.

I don’t understand why my uncle tied my money to someone I don’t know, she said more to herself than to Damon. I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

Sometimes it’s better to have someone impartial to the family handling these matters. You may not like the reality, but you’ll have to learn to trust me. In time, you’ll see I am the right person to carry out his wishes. Damon picked up her folder and his tablet. Is there anything else?

She pushed the jewelry box in front of her. Would you at least take a photo of the ring and get a second opinion? Maybe from one of your brothers at the store? Believe me, I know how much difference another look can make.

If this was the only way to get her out the door, he’d agree for that reason. Taking the photos didn’t mean he would actually send them. With any luck, Lila would go home and forget about it. Sure, whatever. Fake diamonds aren’t really our area of expertise.

Lila’s lips tightened.

He held up the phone to get an image of the band, including the numbers on the inside. There, he said, placing the ring in Lila’s hand and closing her fingers around it. I’ll have my assistant, Mia, call you if there’s anything new with the ring, he lied, adding with impatience, Is there anything else?

No. She shoved the ring in the box. If you’ll get Maggie for me, we’ll go.

Finally, they were finished.

Damon stood and walked away from his client. Upon leaving the conference room he found Maggie waiting outside. We’re done, he said, continuing on without stopping.

He did not stick around to see Lila or Maggie out of the building. With brisk steps he walked back to his office.

What did she want? Mia asked, joining him around the corner. She kept pace with his quick strides. Anything I need to follow up about?

He shot her an amused look. No.

The idea that Lila had come to bargain with him impressed him, but he never would have gone for it. That showed her naivety. Damon shook his head. What a sad young woman. Pretty, yes. A tight body, yes. But so…dependent on other people. She probably sat around all day waiting for someone to come walk her to the store. He bet she lived a dismal, boring life.

Kendra called, Mia said, pulling him out of his disdain for Miss Kent. He wouldn’t interact with her much anyway. He had employees to keep track of her spending.

Of all the headaches... What does she want? he asked, causing Mia to flinch.

She didn’t say.

I’ll call her back later.

Damon entered his office, Mia trailing behind. A modern space, multiple windows looked directly over Union Square, with all its palm trees, a monument, and a plaza teeming with people on the cusp of Friday evening. The buildings and the lights made for a stunning view with the sun’s golden descent. He took out his phone and glanced at the photo of the ring.

What have you got there? Mia pointed at the image. A nervous laugh left her mouth, as if he might have actually decided to get married. Finally going to propose to some woman?

Damon laughed. Absolutely not. He held the phone up to her. What do you think?

Mia’s worry about Damon’s bachelor status eased and she took the phone out of his hands. Her sharp green eyes narrowed at the photo. Is this real?

Lila Kent. Damon took his phone back and faced the window.

Excuse me? Mia said, joining him to take in the splendid view of the city, with all of its buildings and history, interrupted by ocean and bridges.

Damon shoved his hands in his pants pockets. How on earth does someone get around in this world without sight? I’d rather die than depend on so many people.

She smirked. I agree. She must be miserable. Then again, maybe not. Christopher Barrett was her uncle. Given his legendary status and all that wealth, I wonder if she was able to truly appreciate the lifestyle he gave to her.

Damon cocked his head. Why would a man capable of buying any kind of diamond in the world give his niece a fake one?

You know the wealthy. Some of them have strange habits.

Maybe. He gave the photo another glance. A funny feeling began to nag at him. The kind he couldn’t ignore. I think I will send these to Brent after all.

Forget about the ring, your next appointment is here.

Damon did just that. He pressed send and didn’t give the ring a second thought.

The remainder of Damon’s afternoon played out with a series of meetings. Clients came and went amongst a constant rustle of paperwork, signatures, and presentations with projections and financial expectations. Small businesses, big businesses, individuals and family, the source made little difference to him because people who came to him lived above a certain pay grade and he made sure they stayed within their legal limits of expanding and spending. The conference room smelled of motivation and money, with Damon sitting at the helm of it all, enjoying every second. This is where he belonged, seated at the table of success.

Eventually the hustle of the workday faded, leaving Damon alone in his office with the stars appearing in the night sky. Lights flickered on in the buildings across the way. Damon typed on the keyboard, the screen glowing in the dim light of his office. Friday night meant he’d leave earlier than usual, by seven at the latest, in order to meet Jocelyn for drinks.

A beep on his cell phone caught his attention and he checked the message to find Jocelyn would be running late. The delay made no difference to him, he would use the time to squeeze in more work. He sighed and leaned his chair back. Blowing out a long breath, his gaze landed on his phone and the flashing blue light indicating a new message. Instead of from Jocelyn, it was a message from Brent.

A chill rushed down his spine at the words: I want to see that ring.

Chapter 2

Walk from your core. Lila’s mantra stayed with her whenever she used her cane. Practiced and perfected, she squeezed her stomach muscles inward and held her shoulders back. She tapped the cane in front of her, right to left. Left to right. Repeat. The trusty sneakers she wore made her more confident with walking.

Maggie remained next to her, giving guidance when necessary, though Lila preferred to find her own way. Along with the cane, the sounds and rhythms around her helped guide her. The plaza in the middle of Union Square made for a big challenge with all the intersections teeming with hazards—people, uneven sidewalks, fire hydrants, trash cans, parked strollers or bikes, steps. The list could go on forever, but Lila did her best to avoid letting them get to her.

They were out in the soul of the city on a warm September evening. Lila imagined a bluish-purple night sky with lights on in the buildings.

Turn right! Maggie said, grasping Lila’s elbow.

Lila’s careful movements fled her control and she stumbled forward a little. Maggie, she said, reclaiming the balance. You’re going to make me fall.

Boy on a skateboard, she warned, pulling on Lila’s arm.

A woman shouted. Someone yelled an obscenity and a split-second later there was a series of screeching brakes and horns.

The skateboarder? Lila guessed.

Appears so, Maggie said with satisfaction. Crosswalk in five steps.

The swish of their bags brushed against Maggie’s legs with each step. They’d been shopping. Lila needed an outlet after meeting that ray of sunshine known as Damon Harrison. Not that she placed all the blame on him. He had just been doing his job. There was more to the situation that she didn’t want to admit.

She’d been close to her uncle, and of all people, he’d taken the time to teach Lila how to save, invest, to buy only what she needed, and to differentiate financial terms related to stocks and taxes. The meeting with Damon might be over, but the sting of her uncle’s strings attached to her inheritance stayed with her.

She didn’t expect Damon or Maggie or even her cousins to understand. She would have sought out one of her uncle’s lawyers for financial guidance and direction eventually on her own terms. The situation felt so…forced and restrictive. But perhaps she’d been living with the illusion that she had control in the first place.

Damon wouldn’t have been her first choice for someone, but she would let it go. Her uncle was no longer alive and she’d have to adjust. She’d also have to learn to work with Damon in the future and on a continual basis. She thought him difficult, arrogant, and impatient. Sometimes the blind thing worked in her favor though. A few extra sympathy notes usually got her what she wanted. Not with Damon. She got that right away. The rude tone of his voice. The clipped answers. Those irritating sighs.

At least their interaction would be limited. The terms of the will contract made their back-and-forth communication minimal. Any requests for extra funds, investing, or problems, channeled first through the personal assistant.

Still, the meeting left her feeling like an irresponsible teenager even though she held a job. She owned a home. She paid her bills on time and made her own investments. More than anyone, her uncle had both understood and respected Lila’s need to live life on her own terms. The parameters of this will negated some of her trust in him. Her money in someone else’s hands didn’t feel like protection. It felt like control.

Not to mention the ordeal with the ring. She cringed at her lame effort. She really thought her uncle had given her an impressive piece of jewelry! Not a fake. She shuddered. Lila just wanted to put the awkward encounter behind her.

I’m starving, Maggie said, interrupting Lila’s thoughts. Please tell me you want to eat.

Lila snorted. I feel more like a drink.

"You mean like one