As Blair walked east toward Madison; her iPhone rang the familiar strains of the opening bars of “Moon River。”
She pulled it out of her Lanvin hobo; surprised to see an unfamiliar 212 number flash across the display。 She pressed talk; her mind bubbling with possibilities。 Was it Nate; ditching his parents to meet her for a Per Se dinner?
“This is Blair;” she answered curiously。
“Blair Waldorf?” a surprisingly high man’s voice repeated on the other end of the phone。
“Yes;” Blair said cautiously。
“Miss Waldorf; this is Freddie from Tiffany and pany。 We have your order here。 We close in an hour;” he finished。
Blair racked her brain。 “I don’t think I ordered anything;” Blair began。 Unless her father had ordered something for her as a late Christmas present。 But he’d already sent her a pair of limited edition snakeskin Christian Louboutins。 Besides; she and Harold bonded over shoes or purses; not jewelry。 Which could only mean that it was a surprise from Nate。
“I’ll be by in a few minutes;” she said eagerly; her hand shooting up in the air to hail a taxi。
“Okay; miss。 We’re located at—“
“I know where you are;” Blair said quickly as she stepped into the first cab that pulled up; stealing it from a harried…looking woman in a chinchilla coat。 Blair felt guilty for a moment; but this was an emergency。
“Fifty…seventh and Fifth;” she said quickly as the cab peeled away from the curb。 Maybe Nate had just said his parents were ing home so he could stage an elaborate surprise for her; to show her how truly sorry he was for running away last summer。 And a surprise was so sweet—she loved surprises; especially when she knew about them。
Naturally。
Blair’s heart thudded in anticipation as the cab turned onto Fifth。 Outside; the stately doorman buildings of the Upper East Side gradually gave way to the brightly colored window displays of high…end shops。 Garlands of greenery were wrapped around streetlamps and light displays were lit up across the avenue。 Blair felt like it was Christmas and her birthday and the Barneys warehouse sale rolled into one。
“Here’s fine;” Blair said as the cab idled in traffic on Fifty…ninth Street。 She could walk a few blocks。 She handed the driver a ten from her Prada wallet and slipped out the door。
She paused in front of the limestone corner building that housed Tiffany & Co。
A dapper doorman in a three…piece suit pushed the revolving door; and she entered; enjoying the feeling of her Sigerson Morrison boots sinking into the plush carpet。 The iconic store was filled with tourists eagerly gawking at the merchandise under thick glass counters。 Ordinarily; the bustle would have annoyed her; but she didn’t mind today。 She liked how everything in the store felt so alive and exciting; as if anything could happen。 She marched over to a customer service desk in the left corner of the room。
“Hello; I’m Blair Waldorf;” she announced to the tiny man behind the counter。 He wore a pink striped French cuffed shirt and a red tie。 His robin’s egg blue name tag read FREDDIE。 “I believe you called me。”
“Of course; Miss Waldorf!” he shrieked。 He glanced meaningfully over at the beige couches in the corner。 Blair followed his gaze; expecting to see Nate。 An overweight guy wearing a pink baseball cap on his bald head stood beside two women arguing with each other in French; and a handsome guy in shorts sat with his back to them。
Blair knew only one guy who wore cargo shorts in the winter; as if he simply wasn’t affected by the cold。 And she’d sort of forgotten that he existed。
“Scout!” Pete looked up and grinned devilishly as he sauntered toward her。 It was as if he’d just spotted her across the dining hall。
“Hi;” Blair said weakly。 It wasn’t like she’d forgotten about Pete; exactly; but he certainly hadn’t been front and center on her radar。
“But what about Costa Rica?” Blair asked; confused。 Pete was supposed to be there for another week。
He shrugged and smiled。 “I couldn’t do it。 I needed to be with you。 So I got to thinking…” Pete smiled as he reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts; removed a blue box; and held it out to her。
“What?” Blair asked; a wave of dizziness hitting her。
“Open it。” Pete pushed the box into her hands。 Fingers trembling; she opened the Tiffany blue cardboard box to find a small black velvet jewelry box。 Blair’s heart careened through her chest to the floor。
Was he proposing? At Tiffany? She’d imagined this was how she’d get engaged a million times。 But in all her fantasies; it wasn’t Pete asking her。 It was Nate。
She pried open the hinged lid of the box。 There; sitting on a bed of blue satin; was a white gold ring。 It was circled by tiny pink sapphires that captured the light。
“Is this…” Blair began; her fingers trembling。
“It’s not an engagement ring;” Pete explained hurriedly; reading the shocked expression on Blair’s face。 “At least not yet。 But I do want you to e on Carlson vacations。 I feel like this sort of answers my dad’s ‘no ring; no bring’ rule; don’t you?” he asked with an adorably lopsided smile。
Around them; tourists craned their necks to see what was going on。 One paunchy man had even pulled out his camera phone and