Mia’s face reddened.
Evelyn stepped closer and gently took the garments from her.
“I’ll handle these,” she said.
Claudia watched the exchange with faint amusement.
“Is she new?”
“Yes.”
“It shows.”
Mia lowered her eyes.
Evelyn placed the dresses over her arm.
“She’s learning quickly.”
“Then perhaps someone should teach her that customers in places like this expect a certain level of service.”
Mr. Cole shifted slightly near the door.
Evelyn met Claudia’s eyes.
“We expect every member of our staff to be treated respectfully as well.”
The sentence was quiet.
Claudia blinked, as though surprised that a sales assistant had said anything beyond yes, ma’am.
Then she smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
“Of course,” she said. “How noble.”
She returned to the fitting room.
Mia waited until the door closed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Evelyn replied.
“I should have known about the silk.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“She hates everything I do.”
“She arrived unhappy. Some people bring their unhappiness into a room and expect everyone else to carry it for them.”
Mia looked toward the fitting room.
“How do you stay so calm?”
Evelyn glanced down at the jacket in her hands.
“Practice.”
Claudia eventually selected seven items: two dresses, a wool coat, a silk blouse, a leather handbag, a pair of shoes, and the ivory blazer she had entered wearing.
The blazer was from a young fashion label called Arden Row. It had sharp shoulders, fabric-covered buttons, and a distinctive diagonal seam running from the collar to the left pocket.
Claudia had apparently purchased it elsewhere.
Evelyn recognized it immediately.
She had drawn the first version of that seam on the back of a restaurant receipt four years earlier.
At the counter, Evelyn folded Claudia’s purchases in tissue paper and placed each item inside a cream-colored box.
Claudia stood across from her, scrolling through her phone.
“How long is this going to take?”
“I’m nearly finished.”
“You said that several minutes ago.”
“These fabrics need to be packed carefully.”
“They are clothes, not museum pieces.”
Evelyn tied a ribbon around the final box.
“The total is six thousand eight hundred and forty dollars.”
Claudia finally looked up.
“For seven items?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I was told there was a private-client reduction.”
“That applies to registered members.”
“I have shopped here before.”
“I can check the account. What name would it be under?”
Claudia sighed heavily.
“Whitmore. Claudia Whitmore.”
Evelyn searched the customer records.
“I’m afraid I don’t see an active membership.”
“That’s impossible.”
“There is an older profile, but it expired last year.”
Claudia leaned closer.
“Then reactivate it.”
“I can ask the manager to contact you about renewal, but I cannot apply a membership reduction before it is active.”
“You cannot?”
“No, ma’am.”
Claudia placed both hands on the marble counter.
“I have spent more money in this store than you probably earn in two years.”
The boutique became still.
Mia stopped folding a scarf.
Mr. Cole looked toward the counter.
Another customer, who had been examining earrings near the window, slowly lowered the pair she was holding.
Evelyn did not flinch.
“The total remains six thousand eight hundred and forty dollars.”
Claudia laughed once.
“You people are remarkable.”
Evelyn waited.
Claudia pulled a card from her purse and dropped it onto the counter.
“Run it.”
Evelyn processed the payment.
Approved.
She returned the card with the receipt.
“Would you like the receipt inside one of the bags?”
“No. Give it to me.”
Evelyn extended it.
Claudia took the receipt, looked at the total again, and shook her head.
Then she reached into the bottom of her handbag.
“I suppose you’re waiting for your reward.”
Evelyn frowned slightly.
“I’m sorry?”
“A tip.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Oh, don’t pretend. Everyone expects something now.”
Claudia removed three coins from her purse.
She placed one on the counter.
Then another.
The third rolled from her fingertips, struck the marble, and fell to the floor.
The metallic sound seemed unnaturally loud.
Claudia looked down at it.
Then she looked at Evelyn.
“Pick it up,” she said.
Mia inhaled sharply.
The customer near the earrings turned fully toward them.
Mr. Cole took one step away from the door.
Evelyn remained where she was.
Claudia lifted an eyebrow.
“I said, pick it up.”
Evelyn rested both palms lightly against the counter.
“No.”
The answer was not loud.
It did not need to be.
Claudia’s expression changed.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“You’re refusing to clean your own floor?”
“That coin belongs to you.”
“I gave it to you.”
“You threw it at my feet.”