Her eyes sharpened.
“Were you prevented from examining it?”
Monica answered carefully.
“I was told not to touch it.”
Blair immediately said:
“It is an archive piece.”
Camille turned.
“Yes.”
“I know.”
Blair swallowed.
“I was explaining that.”
Camille looked back at Monica.
Monica said:
“She did eventually explain the handling rule.”
“Eventually?”
“Yes.”
Camille’s jaw tightened.
Blair’s face reddened.
“I may have misunderstood why she was here.”
Monica looked toward her.
“That part is true.”
Camille remained calm.
“Blair, Ms. Ellis is here by appointment with me, legal, and the archive review team.”
Blair’s eyes widened.
Camille continued.
“And yes, she is authorized to inspect B-4178.”
The young associate looked toward the bag.
Then Monica.
“That is this one?”
Monica’s expression did not change.
“We’re about to find out.”
Blair became pale.
Not because Monica was secretly a billionaire.
She was not.
Not because Monica owned the company.
She did not.
Not because she could buy every bag on the wall.
She could not, and would not have wanted to.
Blair went pale because there was suddenly no version of the interaction in which Monica had simply wandered into a space she did not understand.
Monica had known exactly what she was looking at.
Perhaps better than Blair.
Camille said:
“Would you give us the room?”
Blair swallowed.
“Yes.”
She started to turn.
Monica stopped her.
“Wait.”
Blair looked back.
Monica did not want theater.
She did not want the manager dismissing the employee as though removing one person could repair the interaction.
“What is the handling policy?”
Blair looked confused.
Camille answered.
“Archive pieces are not to be handled without a staff member present.”
“By anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Any client?”
“Yes.”
“Any dress code?”
“No.”
“Purchase history?”
“No.”
“Appointment status?”
“No.”
Monica nodded.
Then she looked at Blair.
“That is the sentence I should have received.”
Blair’s face reddened deeper.
“Yes.”
Monica waited.
Blair understood.
“I’m sorry.”
Not enough yet.
The young woman knew it too.
She tried again.
“I’m sorry I made assumptions about why you were here instead of explaining the actual policy.”
Monica held her gaze.
“And?”
Blair swallowed.
“And for implying that you did not understand how the store works.”
Better.
Monica nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Camille looked toward Blair.
“We’ll speak later.”
Blair left.
No dramatic firing.
No security.
No applause from nearby customers.
She simply walked toward the back of the store with her posture too straight.
Monica watched for a moment.
Then turned toward Camille.
“You didn’t need to embarrass her.”
Camille gave a short laugh.
“I was about to say the same thing about what she did to you.”
“That doesn't make a second public scene useful.”
Camille studied her.
“Elena warned me you would be difficult.”
Monica smiled.
“She likes me.”
“So do I already.”
That was the first comfortable moment of the morning.
Then Monica looked toward the bag.
The comfort disappeared.
“Can we open it?”