The manager misread that glance.
“You worried people are recording you?”
The Black woman looked back at her.
“No.”
That single word made the manager uncomfortable.
She covered it with anger.
“Security!”
Two guards near the entrance immediately approached.
They were both dressed in dark suits rather than traditional uniforms, because the boutique preferred protection that looked expensive.
One guard moved toward the Black woman.
She lifted one hand.
“Do not touch me.”
The guard hesitated.
The manager snapped:
“Remove her.”
The guard glanced toward his colleague.
The second guard looked uneasy.
Nobody wanted to be the next person on camera.
The manager noticed their hesitation.
Her face flushed.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
She walked to the marble table.
Grabbed the Black woman’s taupe handbag.
Then threw it onto a velvet chair several feet away.
A collective gasp moved through the showroom.
The handbag landed upright.
The Black woman’s eyes followed it.
Then returned to the manager.
“Do that again.”
The manager smiled.
“What?”
“Touch my property again.”
The manager folded her arms.
“Or what?”
The Black woman gave no answer.
The manager leaned closer.
“That’s what I thought.”
She turned toward the guards.
“Why are you both standing there?”
One guard finally reached toward the Black woman’s shoulder.
His palm barely made contact before she stepped away.
“Don’t.”
The guard stopped.
The manager shouted:
“She’s refusing security instructions!”
The first guard, suddenly committed to proving he was doing his job, placed a hand against the Black woman’s upper arm and pushed her back half a step.
The showroom erupted in murmurs.
The Black woman regained her balance instantly.
Her eyes moved toward the guard.
“Your name?”
He froze.
“What?”
“Your name.”
He looked toward the manager.
She snapped:
“Don’t answer her.”
The Black woman nodded.
“Understood.”
Then she walked to the velvet chair.
Picked up her handbag.
Opened it.
The manager smirked.
“What now?”
The Black woman removed a slim black phone.
“No discount card?”
A few nervous laughs came from people who immediately regretted joining in.
The Black woman tapped once.
Placed the phone against her ear.
Someone answered almost immediately.
She said:
“I’m inside the Fifth Avenue flagship.”
The manager rolled her eyes.
The Black woman continued.
“Begin internal lock.”
The manager laughed.
“Who are you pretending to call?”
The woman ignored her.
“Freeze local management access.”
The manager’s smile flickered.
“Notify corporate legal.”
Silence.
“Board office too.”
The manager stared.
The Black woman looked directly at her while finishing:
“And preserve every camera feed from the last thirty minutes.”
Then she ended the call.
The boutique remained silent.
The manager scoffed.
“That was pathetic.”
The Black woman slipped the phone back into her handbag.
“No.”
She looked around the store.