“For fuck’s sake, Banner, we’re not going to get beaten up. Now if you don’t get out of the goddamn car, I might kick your ass myself.”

“Brutal,” he mutters. “Can’t fucking win either way.” He hops out of the car, rounds the hood, and stands next to me. “Okay, what are we going to do now? Scale the wall like Spiderman?”

Rolling my eyes, I walk up to the brick building’s metal door and give it a knock. When it opens, a man in a suit answers. “Name?”

“Babe Ruth.”

He nods and then opens the door. “Follow the hall, first door on the right.”

“Thanks,” I say as Banner stands there, his mouth agape.

When I push at his shoulder to get him moving, he whispers, “Dude, you’re part of a mob, aren’t you? Listen, I knew I said I would follow you anywhere, but this is pushing it. I won’t survive in jail, you know that.”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just tell me what we’re doing?”

We reach the door on the right, and I check the handle. It’s unlocked, so I push it open and smile broadly as the small room is lit up by cases and cases of rings, an attendant at each case.

“What the hell kind of secret jewelry heist is this?” Banner asks, eyeing the rings. “Listen, this is some black-market kind of shit, and I’m not interested.”

Turning toward my brother, I grip his shoulders, look him in the eyes and say, “I’m going to propose to Myla.”

Understanding hits him, and his eyes scour the rings again. “Dude,” he says, eyes wide. “Like legit propose?”

“Yes, and I want your help to pick out the right ring.”

“Holy shit. Does she know?”

I shake my head. “She has no fucking clue. That’s why I came here because I’m a high-profile figure in the city. If someone saw me walking into a jewelry store, it would have been splashed across the news, and she would have found out. So that’s why we’re here.”

Banner rubs his hands together and nods his head. “Black market rings.”

“No,” I say. “These are from a few custom high-profile jewelers from around the country. They’ve pulled their best and are showing them off. Nothing to do with the black market.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to believe that’s what’s happening. It’s more fun like that in my head. Now, where do we start?”

* * *

“When are you going to do it?” Banner asks as he takes a sip of his beer.

“After the season. I want to be able to spend time together once I do it. I don’t want to propose and then take off for an away game.”

It took us about an hour and a half to look over the rings closely and pick the perfect one. I had my eyes set on one, a round-cut pink diamond that screamed Myla, but Banner was all about examining each and every ring just to make sure. I brought the pink diamond around, comparing it to the others, and nothing beat it out.