Then approached.
Claire saw him.
Stopped.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then:
“You came.”
“You invited.”
“I didn't think you would.”
“Neither did I.”
She smiled nervously.
“You look almost the same.”
“That is false.”
“You’re right.”
“You look richer.”
He laughed.
That broke tension.
Claire looked at his wrist.
The engraved watch.
She recognized brand.
“Interesting.”
“My daughter inflicted it.”
Claire smiled.
Then became serious.
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know.”
“No.”
“I wanted to say it where I can see you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He held her gaze.
“I accept.”
Her eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
Marcus continued.
“That doesn't make what happened necessary.”
“I know.”
“It doesn't mean being fired was wrong.”
“I know.”
“It doesn't mean company was innocent.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“You've had thirty years to practice.”
“Yes.”
They sat for coffee.
Not friends.
Two people with one significant intersection.
Claire told him losing job had destroyed her identity initially.
“I thought I was sales.”
“Top performer.”
“Clients asked for me.”
“Then suddenly I was the woman in the video.”
Marcus nodded.
“I understand a little.”
“How?”
“For years people introduced me as billionaire kicked out of own store.”
“You had other achievements.”
“So did you.”
Claire looked surprised.
He continued.
“A bad act can be important without becoming entire human being.”
She swallowed.
“I needed that at forty.”
“You might not have believed me.”
“Probably not.”
They talked forty-five minutes.
Then left separately.
No cameras.
No press.
No photograph.
Marcus told Camille that evening.
“How was it?”
“Good.”
“Closure?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He thought.
“Perspective.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“Coffee was twelve dollars.”
“Beverly Hills.”
They laughed.
Marcus died at eighty-seven.
His obituary mentioned investments.
Philanthropy.
Family.
Economic-policy work.
Arden & Vale acquisition.
The boutique incident appeared halfway down.
That pleased Naomi.