“Oh, Eliza, he’s handsome,” she said—actually out loud—right in front of Blake.

Between work and Blake, my free time had been whittled down to practically nil. But still, I made time for happy hours with Carmen and nights with Raj. We ventured beyond the bar now—once, we ate gelato together in Domino Park; another time, he brought me to his friend’s improv set at UCB.

The summer’s momentum skids to a halt on a Thursday morning, the day before Blake and I are set to visit his family in Massachusetts for Labor Day weekend. Sophie heaves herself through the front door of the shop, wide-eyed and breathing hard.

“I practically ran from the subway,” she announces, pausing in the doorframe to catch her breath. “Blake called me this morning.”

“Blake called you?” I repeat. I have our black velvet trays spread out across the glass counter and I’m setting up the cases for the day.

“He says—and I quote—he’s ‘ready to propose and wants to do it right.’ ”

My heart races. I drop the edgy black diamond stacking ring I’m holding. “He said what?”

“He wanted my advice on choosing the right ring for you. He wasn’t sure if you’d want a Brooklyn Jewels piece or not, and I was like, ‘Obviously, she has to have one to promote our brand.’ ”

“So you turned my boyfriend asking for my hand into a marketing meeting?” I say, on the verge of laughter.

She continues like I didn’t say anything. “And he wanted to know if there was a specific piece you had your heart set on, or if there were certain styles he should look at. It was kind of sweet, to be honest. I mean, it’s clear he really cares.”

I start to feel light-headed, shaky. Is this real? I take a deep breath to try to steady myself. Luckily, there’s a stool behind me that I can sink onto for support.

“So what did you say to him?!”

She revels in a long, slow grin. “I’m a genius. I knew you’d need him to propose with the ring you already debuted on Instagram. So I told him I knew just the right piece for you, and I’d bring it to him. So!” She holds her hand out expectantly.

I stare at her dumbly.

“Eliza? I need the ring.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just overwhelmed. Yeah, here.”

I gently tug the ring off my finger. This feels surreal. I know that inspiring Blake to propose quickly has been the plan all along—but now that it’s actually about to happen, I can’t quite believe it. I should be victorious right now. Instead, I’m scared. My hands shake when I hand the ring over to Sophie.

She laughs. “You know, I never thought about this until now, but this is the last piece I’d choose for you.”