I skim it breathlessly, not daring to relax until I’ve finished, just in case I said anything terribly dumb or Taylor picked up on the fact that I’m kind of a fraud. But it’s good. I’m relieved. Taylor notes that I’m newly engaged but won’t name my fiancé, although she praises that as a feminist move designed to keep the spotlight on my professional accomplishments. The piece’s primary focus is on my journey to entrepreneurship, and frankly, Taylor makes me sound like a rock star. I certainly look like a rock star in those silver stiletto booties. It’s better than I could have dreamed. I share the piece on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

When I’ve come back to earth, it appears that the guy has given up.

“I don’t know,” he says morosely. “I just don’t know which of her fingers this fits on.”

“You could always ask her,” Jess suggests.

She’s good with customers—better than either Sophie and I will ever be. She’s endlessly patient, naturally friendly, and has a sixth sense that tells her when to push a sale and when to stand back.

He looks appalled. “But then it won’t be a surprise!”

I know the stats. Among straight couples, nearly 90 percent of men propose with an engagement ring, and less than half of them consult their girlfriends about the decision. I’m not knocking my job, but it makes no sense to me to send a typically clueless man into a jewelry store to pick out the most expensive accessory a woman will ever own—one that she’ll hopefully wear for the rest of her life. I don’t think anything about an engagement ring should be a surprise. I certainly wouldn’t want to be surprised. But then again, I’m the girl who picked out her own hulking diamond without a man in sight.

The guy mutters that he’ll “figure it out on his own” and leaves.

“Ugh,” Jess says, once the door has swung shut.

“You did the best you could,” I point out. “He wasn’t in a position to buy right now.”

“True.” She sighs. “His fiancé will surely have fun with a lifetime of him.”

Jess never fails to make me laugh. I show her the elle.com story.

“God, I miss this,” she says, scrolling to examine the photos.

In her past life, before she landed at Brooklyn Jewels, Jess styled the accessories on photo shoots exactly like this one. It was her job to select the jewelry and the shoes—well, to assist the woman who selected the jewelry and shoes. From what she’s told me, the job mostly entailed packing and unpacking boxes of accessories sent in from publicists all over the city and praying that nothing got lost in the process. I think that’s why she’s so diligent and organized here.