— "You... you insolent parasite!" Victoria sputtered, her complexion flushing beneath her heavy foundation. "Who do you think you are? Some street loiterer here to snap photos for social media? Where is the manager? Is there anyone running this place?!"
Right then, the heavy oak door leading to the executive offices swung open. Arthur Vance, the boutique’s general manager, hurried out with beads of sweat glistening across his furrowed brow.
CHAPTER 4: THE CHESSBOARD OF POWER
— "What is the disturbance here?" Arthur asked nervously. Recognizing Victoria immediately, his face melted into an obsequious grin as he bowed: — "Oh, Mrs. Sterling! Whatever has caused you such distress?"
Seeing the manager’s familiar sycophancy, Victoria regained her smug swagger. She crossed her arms and jabbed her chin toward Julian and Maya:
— "Vance! Good thing you showed up. This insolent clerk of yours harbored a suspicious loiterer in the boutique, and when I demanded she be escorted out, he dared to talk back to me! I demand that you fire him on the spot and throw that woman onto the street, or I will personally call the Board of Directors and cancel my diamond tier account!"
Arthur Vance paled. A pragmatic man obsessed with meeting sales quotas, he lived in dread of displeasing ultra-wealthy spenders like the Sterlings. He turned to Julian, his voice laced with venom: — "Julian! What is wrong with you? Apologize to Mrs. Sterling this instant!"
— "Mr. Vance," Julian answered, unblinking. "I will not apologize for doing my duty. I upheld our policy of equal service. Ms. Bennett was browsing respectfully until Mrs. Sterling approached her with unprovoked insults and demands for her removal."
— "Silence!" Arthur snapped, his voice dropping into a harsh hiss. "Do you want to lose your livelihood? The VIP client is always right! Have you forgotten the first rule of retail?"
Turning toward Maya, Arthur adopted a cold, dismissive posture: — "Ma'am, to prevent further inconvenience to our valued clientele, I must insist that you leave immediately. We reserve the right to refuse service."
Maya did not tremble. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips: — "Refuse service? On what grounds, Mr. Vance? The color of my skin? Or the fact that I do not brandish a designer handbag to validate my worth before your eyes?"