A little after two, Lena assured her that the system could manage without her for an hour. Marcus and his team were not expected until three. The fundraiser itself would begin at five-thirty. Vanessa looked down at the note in her pocket: retirement gift for Sarah. She had planned everything except the one personal thing that mattered most.
She had considered giving Sarah an engraved compass. Marcus thought a framed photograph of the old team would be better. But Sarah had never been sentimental about military photographs, and Vanessa wanted something she could wear during the ordinary years ahead, when nobody needed to know what she once commanded. She remembered a silver watch Sarah had worn for years, its face scratched and its clasp repaired with a tiny loop of wire. Sarah had refused to replace it because she liked that it still worked.
Harrison Fine Jewelry had a watch Vanessa had seen in the window weeks earlier. Its navy-blue face had reminded her of the open sea at dusk. She checked the time, removed her event badge, and tucked it into the messenger bag she left with Lena. For the first time all day, she was simply a woman in jeans, a white cotton shirt, and clean walking shoes, on her way to buy a present.
Jennifer Bell was finishing a conversation with a couple about wedding rings when Vanessa entered the store. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and the perfume worn by customers trying watches at the front counter. Light from the chandeliers scattered across the glass cases. There were no prices visible from a distance; everything about the room was designed to suggest that anyone who needed to ask should already understand what it cost.
Jennifer greeted Vanessa politely. She was in her late twenties, with a black dress, a name tag pinned precisely above her heart, and the quick professional glance of someone taught to identify a customer's spending range before opening a display case. Her eyes paused on Vanessa's sneakers. They traveled to the plain white shirt, then returned to her face.
"Good afternoon. Are you looking for anything particular?"
"A retirement gift," Vanessa said. "For a Navy captain. Something classic. Something she'll actually use."
Jennifer's smile remained in place. "Wonderful. Did you have a price range in mind?"
"Show me your watches. The right piece matters more than the price."
For the smallest instant, Jennifer looked uncertain. Then she opened the back case and brought out three watches on a velvet tray. She described their faces, movements, and finishes while Vanessa tried to imagine Sarah wearing each one. The first was too ornate. The second looked like something Sarah would leave in a drawer because she was afraid to scratch it. The third was an Omega with a silver bracelet and a deep navy face, elegant without demanding attention.
"That one," Vanessa said.
"It's thirty-eight hundred dollars," Jennifer replied carefully.