A pair near the center caught her attention.
Silver.
Pointed toe.
Crystal buckle.
An architectural heel designed to look impossibly thin while carrying unusual internal reinforcement.
She knew exactly how it had been made.
She knew how many prototypes had failed.
She knew which Italian factory had complained about the buckle.
She knew why the interior stitching had been changed six weeks before launch.
She knew the design had nearly been canceled.
None of that showed on her face.
The sales associate approached cautiously.
“Can I help you?”
The woman looked toward her.
“Yes.”
The associate seemed relieved by her soft tone.
“I’d like to see those.”
She indicated the silver pair.
The associate smiled.
“Of course.”
Then the manager appeared.
Fast.
Too fast.
“We’re actually not offering fittings for that style today.”
The associate turned.
“We are.”
The manager looked at her.
One look.
The associate fell silent.
The Black woman noticed that too.
Her eyes returned to the shoes.
“I was told this morning that the flagship had them available.”
The manager folded her hands.
“I’m not sure who told you that.”
“No?”
“No.”
The woman looked toward the small display placard.
No visible restriction.
She asked:
“Are they sold?”
“No.”
“Reserved?”
“No.”
“Damaged?”
The manager’s smile hardened.
“No.”
“Then why aren’t they available?”
The manager hesitated.
A wealthy older customer seated on a velvet sofa nearby glanced over.
Another customer lowered a magazine.
The manager became aware of the audience.
She changed tone.
“It’s an extremely exclusive model.”
The Black woman looked back at her.
“I understand.”
“Very limited.”
“I understand.”
“We try to protect the pieces.”
The woman’s expression barely changed.
“From feet?”
The young associate nearly smiled.
The manager did not.
“From unnecessary handling.”
There it was.
The Black woman waited.
Sometimes silence made people reveal more than questions.
The manager continued.
“We have other options that might be more suitable.”
“Suitable how?”
“More practical.”
“I didn’t ask for practical.”
The manager’s smile disappeared.
The young associate shifted uncomfortably.
The Black woman calmly removed her sunglasses.
Her dark eyes met the manager’s.
“What size do you have?”
The manager answered reluctantly.
“Eight.”
“Good.”
“That’s your size?”
“Yes.”
The manager looked toward her feet.
Then the gown.
Then back at her face.
For a second, the Black woman wondered whether the manager would openly refuse.
Instead, the manager turned toward the associate.
“Bring them.”
The associate moved immediately.