“Dressed in a way you recognize?”
Elliot said nothing.
Naomi leaned back.
“There.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“The answer.”
“No.”
“You were not protecting the necklace.”
“You were protecting your model of who deserves access.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“You walked in dressed like that.”
Naomi actually laughed once.
“Like what?”
He realized the trap too late.
“Fashionable.”
“And?”
“Not like our usual clients.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Naomi looked at him.
“Victor.”
He opened them.
“Have other employees described our clientele that way?”
He hesitated.
“That’s complicated.”
“No.”
“It’s uncomfortable.”
“That is different.”
Victor nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Naomi looked at Elliot again.
“Your clients are not a species.”
“You are not a gatekeeper to dignity.”
“You sell jewelry.”
He stared at the floor.
For the first time, shame replaced anger.
Naomi softened slightly.
Not because she wanted to make him comfortable.
Because shame without direction could become another useless emotion.
“What did you think when I walked in?”
He did not answer.
“I am not asking for the answer you would give a lawyer.”
Silence.
Naomi waited.
Finally Elliot said:
“I thought you were trying to look richer than you were.”
Victor inhaled.
Celeste looked away.
Naomi remained still.
“Why?”
Elliot rubbed one hand across the other.
“The clothes.”
“You thought the clothes looked cheap?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Too deliberate.”
Naomi almost smiled.
“My gown?”
“Yes.”
“The custom couture gown you assumed was an imitation?”
He looked miserable.
“Yes.”
“The handbag?”
“I didn’t recognize it.”
“There is no visible logo.”
“I know.”
“Exactly.”
She leaned forward.
“You recognized wealth only when it advertised itself in your language.”
Elliot looked up.
Naomi continued.
“And when I didn’t, you invented a story.”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
That was the first honest answer he had given.
Naomi sat back.
“Good.”
He looked surprised.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
“Now we have something we can examine.”
Elliot frowned.