“I did.”
Nia looked at her.
“When?”
“When the officer arrived.”
“Why?”
“Because I recognized you.”
“Before or after police were called?”
Celeste looked away.
That was enough.
Nia asked:
“Before or after?”
“Before.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Nia nodded.
“Conference room.”
Then she turned toward Meredith.
The VIP stood rigid near the brass clothing rail.
“Am I banned?”
she asked.
Nia considered.
“No.”
Meredith seemed surprised.
Nia continued:
“Not yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means unlike the courtesy you extended me, I intend to establish facts before deciding what consequences follow.”
Meredith’s face reddened.
Nia picked up her sunglasses.
“Your appointment today is over.”
“You can't just—”
Nia raised an eyebrow.
Meredith stopped.
“Yes.”
Nia said.
“I can.”
Meredith grabbed her handbag.
Then looked around at the customers watching.
Humiliation finally overwhelmed indignation.
She walked toward the exit.
Nobody stopped her.
Officer Blake remained.
Nia looked at him.
“Do you need anything else?”
“Not from you.”
He paused.
Then:
“I owe you an apology.”
Nia studied him.
“For what?”
“For coming in too aggressively.”
It was not a polished answer.
That made it better.
Nia asked:
“What would you do differently?”
Blake considered.
“I would have separated the caller from you first.”
“Verified store staff’s account before directing you to put merchandise down.”
“And I should have recognized faster that the caller was not a store representative.”
Nia nodded.
“Thank you.”
She did not say apology accepted.
Not yet.
Blake looked toward Meredith disappearing through the revolving door.
“She told dispatch store security had caught a shoplifter.”
Nia became still.
“Store security?”
“Yes.”
“Those were her words?”
“According to call notes.”
Nia turned toward Celeste.
Celeste’s face changed.
Nia saw it.
Fear.
Not surprise.
Nia looked back to Officer Blake.
“I would like the incident number.”
He provided it.
She saved it.
Then he left.
The boutique remained unnaturally quiet.
Nia turned toward the customers.
There were at least thirty people watching.
Some curious.
Some uncomfortable.
Some pretending to browse.
She hated spectacle.
But spectacle had already happened.
Nia addressed them.
“I apologize for the disruption.”
No one spoke.
She continued:
“The store will remain open.”
“Our employees will assist you.”
“And if anyone photographed or recorded the young sales associate involved, please do not post her image without permission.”
Maya looked startled.
Nia glanced toward her.
“She did her job.”
Then Nia walked toward the elevator.
Daniel followed.
Celeste followed him.
Maya held the three dresses against her chest.
For the first time since the officer arrived, her hands had stopped shaking.
The conference room was designed for people who liked expensive simplicity.
Long walnut table.
Leather chairs.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Madison Avenue.
A screen built flush into one wall.
No visible cables.
The room cost more to renovate than Nia’s mother had paid for the house where Nia grew up.