Two mentioned humiliating comments about appearance.
Another alleged that a customer was followed through the showroom despite having a confirmed appointment.
Each complaint was marked resolved.
Yet the explanations were vague.
One file referred to a misunderstanding.
Another described a security concern.
A third said the customer had refused to comply with the store's appointment procedures.
Diana found the pattern disturbing.
She requested a review.
But the regional operations director assured her that the issues had been addressed.
The manager involved, Patricia Wittmann, was described as experienced, commercially successful, and excellent at handling demanding clients.
Diana accepted that the review was underway.
Then more complaints arrived.
And she began wondering whether someone was making problems disappear on paper instead of correcting them in the store.
Patricia Wittmann had not always been the kind of manager who humiliated customers.
Earlier in her career, she worked for a respected department store in Chicago, where she developed a reputation for strong sales and meticulous presentation. She knew how to build relationships with wealthy clients, organize private appointments, and persuade hesitant buyers to consider more expensive purchases.
Her first supervisors described her as ambitious and disciplined.
But ambition gradually became something else.
As she advanced into luxury retail, Patricia began treating certain customers as valuable and others as inconveniences. She became increasingly convinced that a person's spending potential could be identified through appearance, clothing, and the confidence with which they entered an expensive store.
She rarely questioned those assumptions.
When they appeared correct, she congratulated herself on her instincts.
When they were wrong, she blamed the customer for failing to present themselves appropriately.
By the time she arrived at Aurelle's Beverly Hills boutique, Patricia had developed a rigid understanding of luxury service.
Wealthy clients deserved attention.
Everyone else needed to establish that they belonged.
The distinction wasn't written in the employee handbook.
But it shaped how she managed the showroom.
She rewarded associates who attracted high-spending customers and criticized those who spent too much time with people who didn't purchase anything.
She also discouraged staff from questioning her decisions.
When one associate suggested that a customer had been treated unfairly, Patricia replied that luxury retail wasn't a community center.
When another requested better accessibility arrangements for an elderly client, she complained that special accommodations disrupted the presentation.
And when several employees raised concerns about the way Black customers were questioned or redirected, she accused them of being overly sensitive.
Her behavior didn't go entirely unnoticed.
But someone above her kept protecting her.
That person was Graham Pike.
Graham was fifty-six, the company's senior vice president of retail operations.
He was polished, confident, and exceptionally skilled at presenting numbers to executives.