Elijah did not respond with anger. He simply regarded Victoria with the patient expression of someone who had encountered far more unpleasant people than she could imagine.
Nia stepped slightly between them, attempting to defuse the tension.
"Sir, I can ask my colleague to assist you if you prefer. I don't want you to have to wait."
Elijah shook his head.
"No need. You offered to help, and I appreciate that. We can look whenever you're ready."
Victoria scoffed.
"Some people really have no understanding of how things work in places like this."
Elijah glanced at her.
"And how exactly do things work in places like this?"
Victoria straightened her white jacket.
"People who spend serious money receive serious attention. That's how luxury retail works. If you can't afford the products, you shouldn't expect everyone to stop what they're doing for you."
The younger man accompanying Elijah shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
Elijah, however, remained composed.
"Is that what you believe?"
"It's not a belief. It's reality."
He nodded slowly.
"Interesting."
Victoria interpreted his calmness as weakness.
"Look, I'm sure this is all very educational for you, but I have a meeting in an hour. I don't have time to explain basic business principles to strangers."
Nia looked down briefly, hoping the conversation would end.
Elijah noticed.
He also noticed the tension in her shoulders and the way she continued to stand respectfully despite the insults.
He had seen that particular expression many times before.
It belonged to people who were forced to remain polite because someone else possessed the power to make their lives difficult.
Elijah remembered wearing that expression himself.
More than forty years earlier, he had entered a furniture showroom in Chicago to ask about a small business loan. He had been a young father then, working two jobs while trying to turn a modest delivery service into something permanent.
The showroom manager had barely allowed him to finish speaking before suggesting that he try a less expensive neighborhood.
Elijah had left without arguing.
But he had never forgotten how it felt to be judged before anyone bothered to understand who he was.
That memory had shaped the way he built his company.
He believed that wealth should expand a person's responsibilities, not diminish their humanity.
And he had little patience for people who confused expensive clothing with good character.
Still, he decided to give Victoria another opportunity to reveal herself.
"Perhaps you could explain something to me," he said. "If a customer enters this store without looking wealthy, should the staff assume that the customer has no money?"
Victoria laughed.
"Of course not. But you can usually tell when someone belongs in a place and when they don't."
"And what determines whether someone belongs?"
Victoria gestured impatiently toward the merchandise.
"The way they present themselves. Their taste. Their understanding of the products. Their ability to purchase them without asking a hundred questions."
Elijah looked toward the briefcases.
"Then asking questions is a problem?"
"When someone is serious about buying, they know what they want."
"Is that always true?"
Victoria folded her arms.
"Are you trying to argue with me?"
"No. I'm trying to understand you."
"Well, don't. You have your own business to worry about, and I have mine."
Elijah offered a faint smile.
"Fair enough."
Nia returned to the telephone and began contacting another branch.
Victoria turned away from Elijah, apparently satisfied that she had dismissed him.
But she was not finished with Nia.
When the sales associate placed the receiver back on its cradle, Victoria pointed toward a glass display containing several luxury handbags.
"Take that one out."
Nia followed her gesture.
"The black one with the gold clasp?"
"Obviously."
Nia unlocked the display and carefully lifted the bag onto a padded presentation table.
Victoria inspected it with a critical expression.
"The stitching looks uneven."
"I'm sorry it doesn't meet your expectations. I can bring you another example so you can compare them."
"Don't tell me what you can do. Just do it."
Nia opened the display again and retrieved another bag.
Victoria examined both products, turning them over and inspecting their interiors.
Then she deliberately placed the second bag on the counter with enough force to make the metal clasp strike the marble.
"Honestly, the quality is getting worse every year."
Nia examined the bag.
"Is there a particular detail you're concerned about?"
Victoria pointed at a seam near the handle.