Daniel followed her gaze.
“And stopped when Vanessa called her name.”
“Yes.”
“You trust her because she almost intervened?”
“No.”
“I want to know what she does with authority for one afternoon.”
Daniel nodded.
Alicia picked up her bag.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want interviews?”
“Not today.”
“People need time to decide whether they’re speaking honestly or merely reacting to seeing the owner.”
Daniel gave a small, reluctant smile.
“Your father’s lobby rule.”
Alicia looked at him.
“You remember?”
“You quote it whenever executives schedule inspections.”
“Then why were we expecting me at four?”
Daniel winced.
“Fair.”
Alicia turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Have the Art Deco bracelet removed from sale tonight.”
Daniel frowned.
“Why?”
“Chain clasp tension is wrong.”
He stared.
“You noticed?”
“When Vanessa shoved the tray, I heard it strike the glass.”
“That bracelet wasn’t on tray.”
“No.”
“But I noticed the clasp earlier.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“Of course you did.”
Alicia did not.
“Check it.”
“I will.”
She left.
Outside, Beverly Hills continued without interest.
Palm trees.
Traffic.
Tourists photographing storefronts.
Alicia walked half a block before her phone rang.
Her chief operating officer.
Nina Alvarez.
“I just received a text from legal that says ‘Beverly Hills incident, hold records.’”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Alicia looked back toward Prestige & Co.
“I went shopping.”
Nina groaned.
“What did you do?”
“That is an offensive assumption.”
“You only say ‘I went shopping’ when somebody’s quarter is about to become complicated.”
Alicia smiled despite herself.
“I’ll call when I’m in car.”
“Are you okay?”
The question surprised her.
“Yes.”
“You sound angry.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
Alicia laughed.
“That’s what my lawyer always says.”
“You need better friends.”
“I have you.”
“Exactly.”
Alicia ended the call.
She did not look back again.
That evening, the story could have ended.
Owner mistreated.
Manager suspended.
Investigation launched.
But the part that mattered began the following morning.
At 7:12, internal audit found the first discrepancy.
Prestige & Co.’s complaint dashboard showed one client-service complaint at Beverly Hills in twelve months.
The store’s local email archive contained seven.
Three had never been formally entered.
Two had been recoded as “inventory expectation misunderstandings.”
One was categorized “price resistance.”
One disappeared entirely after district-level correspondence.
Alicia received the summary at 7:46.
She read while drinking coffee at her kitchen counter.
Her husband, Marcus—no, let's avoid reusing Marcus from prior stories. Her husband can be Julian? We haven't established. Let's create Nathan Cole? No. Use husband David Monroe? Hmm same surname. Let's say Alicia is divorced? Simpler. She lives alone? Could deepen story via sister/mother. But 20k words need personal background. Let's introduce her teenage daughter? Perhaps not. Better focus business with family memory. Maybe Alicia was never married. She has younger sister Simone. Fine.
Her younger sister Simone called at eight.
Because Nina apparently had no respect for confidentiality inside Alicia’s family.
“What happened at store?”
“Nothing.”