A bracelet near the center interested her.
Not because she intended to buy it.
She had helped approve its acquisition.
An Art Deco platinum bracelet made in Paris in 1927, set with old European-cut diamonds and calibrated sapphires.
Prestige had paid a collector in Geneva slightly more than one hundred eighty thousand for it.
It was scheduled to be featured in an upcoming heritage campaign.
Alicia pointed.
“May I see that one?”
Vanessa did not reach for the key.
“That piece is from our archival collection.”
“I know.”
That made Vanessa pause.
“You know the collection?”
“I’m familiar with it.”
The manager looked Alicia over again.
This time more carefully.
Alicia’s gown was expensive.
That should have helped if the problem was merely economic signaling.
It did not.
Vanessa said, “Those particular pieces require a serious purchase commitment before we remove them from the case.”
Alicia felt something settle inside her.
Not anger yet.
Clarity.
Behind Vanessa, a young sales associate had looked up.
Her name was Olivia Park according to the internal staffing roster Alicia had reviewed that morning.
Twenty-six years old.
Three months with the company.
Highest client-satisfaction rating among new Beverly Hills hires.
Low sales volume.
Alicia knew these numbers because that was the point of visiting.
Olivia watched the conversation carefully.
Another associate, Catherine Mills, stood near the bridal counter arranging ring trays.
She glanced over, then quickly looked away.
Alicia returned her attention to Vanessa.
“What constitutes a serious purchase commitment?”
Vanessa gave the sort of smile adults sometimes give children when pretending the answer is complicated.
“Generally, we like to establish that a client understands the price range before handling exceptional pieces.”
“I understand the price range.”
“Do you?”
Alicia stared at her.
Vanessa seemed to hear herself a fraction too late.
She recovered.
“The bracelet is two hundred ninety-five thousand dollars.”
“I know.”
Again.
That word bothered her.
“How?”
Alicia almost smiled.
“Your website.”
Technically true.
The price had been added recently.
Vanessa relaxed.
“Of course.”
Alicia looked at the bracelet.
“May I see it?”
Vanessa’s hand finally went toward the key clipped discreetly at her waist.
Then stopped.
The front door opened.
A white couple entered.
Late fifties.
Well dressed.
The man wore a navy blazer over an open-collar shirt.
The woman carried a handbag with a recognizable European logo.
Alicia did not know them.
Vanessa apparently did.
Her face transformed.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hollister.”
Warmth appeared as if somebody had turned on another set of lights.
“Welcome back.”
The woman smiled.
“Vanessa.”
“Champagne?”
“Always.”
Vanessa looked toward Catherine.
“Two glasses, please.”
Then back to the couple.
“How was Monaco?”
The conversation became easy.
Personal.
Familiar.
Alicia waited.
No one said one moment.
No one apologized.
No one offered Alicia a seat.
Vanessa simply pivoted away from her in the middle of the request.
Alicia looked toward Olivia.
Their eyes met.
Olivia immediately looked embarrassed.
Not guilty.
Embarrassed.
There was a difference.
Olivia took one step toward Alicia.
Vanessa noticed.