"I said I know."
They stopped at the corner of Lex and 76th. A man sat on the sidewalk against a deli wall, a cardboard sign at his feet that read, "Army vet. Anything helps." Nina crouched down before Solomon could say anything. She tucked a folded 50 into his hand.
"What's your name?"
"Earl, ma'am."
"I'm Nina. This is my husband, Solomon. We'll remember your name, Earl."
The man's eyes filled before she stood up. Solomon waited at the curb, watching her. And the look on his face was the same look he'd had the day they got married. Like he couldn't quite believe his luck.
They kept walking. Madison Avenue at 10:48 in the morning is a particular kind of theater. The valets at the Carlyle Hotel. The matron stepping out of Ralph Lauren with a bag the size of a Labrador. A small Bentley dealership across the street, polished and silent. The smell of fresh chestnuts from a cart on the corner. The kind of neighborhood where your watch tells everyone who you are and your clothes decide whether they let you in.
Sterling and Vance Timepieces sat between a jeweler and a private members' club. Brass-handled door, frosted glass, a blue awning faded just enough to look expensive. Inside, the air was cooler than the street, and it smelled like cedar and old leather and money. Behind the counter, a woman with a gray bob looked up from a tablet. Her name tag said Margaret Hollis, general manager. She didn't smile.
Across the showroom, near a glass case of vintage Patek Philippe, a man in a black blazer with an earpiece turned his head. He clicked his radio once. He started walking toward them.
Solomon didn't see him yet. Nina was pointing at the watch she'd been thinking about all week. It was the last 60 seconds of peace they were going to have for a long time.
Wade Greer had been working the floor at Sterling and Vance for 8 years. Long enough to know every regular by name. Long enough to know that the man with the silver hair who came in every Tuesday spent $90,000 on a Lange in 12 minutes flat. Long enough to know, in his own private opinion, what kind of customer belonged in this store and what kind didn't.
He'd been watching Solomon and Nina since they stepped through the door. He intercepted them between the Rolex case and the Patek Philippe display. Smile pulled tight across his teeth. Eyes scanning like a hand checking a stranger's pockets.
"Morning, folks. Anything I can help you find today?" It was the way he said "folks," like the word was a small test.
Solomon answered easily. "Just browsing. My wife is looking at a piece. Anniversary gift."
"Of course." Wade's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Take your time."
He didn't walk away. He took two steps back. Then one step closer than he'd been before. His shadow slid onto the floor in front of Nina before her hand reached the glass. Nina moved toward the Patek case. She pointed at a vintage piece on the second shelf. A Calatrava from 1968. Cream dial, leather strap so soft it looked like skin.
The salesman behind the counter, a young man in a slim charcoal suit, opened his mouth to greet her. Then he glanced past her shoulder. He saw Wade. He closed his mouth.
"Could I see the Calatrava, please?" Nina said. "The 1968?"
The salesman cleared his throat. He looked at Wade again.
"Is there a problem?" Nina said.
"That piece is $185,000, ma'am."
"I know what it costs. That's why I'm asking to see it."
Wade stepped in. His shoulder bumped between Nina and the case. The bump was not an accident. The bump said, back up. "We typically ask customers about their financing arrangement before pulling pieces at that level."
The showroom went quiet in the way rooms go quiet when something is about to happen. The salesman took a step back from the counter. Behind a display, a woman in a camel coat lowered the watch she was trying on and turned her body slightly toward the scene. A man near the door, who had been holding a watch box, stopped breathing for a second.
Solomon's voice stayed flat. "My wife is asking to see a watch. Is there a problem?"
"The problem, sir," Wade said, loud now, performing for the room, "is that this is not that kind of store. We've had a lot of issues lately with people who don't actually plan to pay walking in here on Saturdays and wasting our salesman's time."
Nina's jaw tightened. She did not put her hand down. She did not step back. She kept her finger pointed at the glass. "I would like to see the watch."
"Ma'am, I'm going to ask you to step away from the case."