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of shiny things in the window," Nick said. "See anything you like?"
    "I see lots of things I like," she said. "I know the store. People from the White House shop here, whenever they need a bauble or two."
    "Let's go inside."
    The store was a testament to chic modernity. Circular stools on elegant chrome stands were strategically placed for customers to sit on while they examined the goods. The goods were mostly diamonds, though Nick saw a lot of gold and a variety of gemstones in brilliant colors. Round, open front cabinets at eye level displayed special pieces under discreet lighting. An elderly woman and a younger man sat at one of the counters, looking at a man's wristwatch with a diamond studded band. Nick and Selena were the only other customers in the store.
    A thirtyish man in a tailored suit approached them. "May I help you?" he said. His tie was perfectly knotted dark blue silk. It rested over a light blue shirt that would have cost Nick a week's pay.
    "We're looking for an engagement ring," Nick said. He looked at Selena and suppressed a laugh.
    "What?" she said.
    "The look on your face. You thought I'd never get around to it, didn't you?"
    "The idea had occurred to me," she said.
    The clerk watched them, a small smile on his face. It wasn't a new situation for him.
    "This way, sir ." He led them to a row of display cases filled with diamonds and gold and silver and platinum rings that gleamed under the lighting.
    " Let's get that one," Nick said. He pointed at an elaborate ring with a central diamond and a pattern of leaves worked in tiny stones all around a platinum band.
    "Are you sure you want to do this now?" Selena said. There was an edge to her voice.
    "Why not? You want a ring, don't you?"
    "Yes, but..."
    "But?"
    "But this feels rushed. It's not just another ring. I have to think about it, look in catalogs, visit stores, things like that."
    Nick felt a headache start. "This is a store. There must be a hundred rings to look at here."
    "That's not the point."
    "What is the point? I thought you'd be pleased if we got something today."
    The smile on the clerk's face was starting to look strained.
    "The point is that I want to take more time to think about it," Selena said.
    "Think about what? The ring or whether you want to get married?"
    "Both," she said. She turned and walked out of the store.
    Nick stood for a moment. He looked at the clerk and the man took a step backward.
    "Don't say a word," Nick said.
    He stormed out of the shop in time to see Selena get into a cab and pull away from the curb. He began walking toward Dupont Circle and then cut over to 19th Street, where there was an Irish bar he knew about. An Irish whiskey would be about right for his mood, maybe two or three of them. What the hell was it with Selena, anyway?
    The bar was a three-story establishment built to resemble an Irish pub. The ground floor featured wooden floors, pub food, a fireplace and comfortable couches and chairs. The bar was polished wood, with wooden stools for the patrons. The back bar had a brick wall, two flat screen television sets and an impressive array of beers, whiskeys and liquors. The mellow glow of wood and comfortable lighting made it a place for serious drinking, if that's what you wanted. The pub looked more or less authentic, in an American kind of way. Missing were the Irish and two or three hundred years of music, tobacco smoke and spilled whiskey.
    Nick took a seat at the bar and ordered a double Jameson neat, with a soda back. It was early in the day. He had the bar to himself except for a corporate -looking guy in a dark blue three-piece suit at the other end, drinking a martini. Nick sipped the whiskey and felt the mellow heat of Ireland descend into his stomach. The pub wasn't authentic but the whiskey was.
    He'd thought Selena would be happy, surprised. She'd been surprised, all right, but she sure as hell didn't seem happy about it. What did he do wrong? He finished his drink and signaled for