Victor frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"You decide based on clothing."
Victor's jaw tightened.
"Don't tell me how I run my business."
"I'm not."
"Then leave."
Marcus looked toward the street.
Rain continued falling.
He could leave.
It would be easy.
But something stopped him.
Maybe it was the way Victor had spoken.
Maybe it was the memory of his father.
Or maybe it was the fact that Marcus had spent his entire life being underestimated.
He looked back.
"I'll wait."
Victor laughed.
"You'll wait?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Here."
Victor pointed toward the sidewalk.
"You can wait outside."
Marcus nodded.
"Fine."
He stepped beyond the velvet rope.
Victor smiled.
He thought he had won.
He hadn't.
Twenty minutes passed.
The rain became heavier.
Marcus remained under the awning.
Victor continued greeting guests.
Every few minutes, he glanced toward Marcus.
The young man hadn't moved.
He wasn't angry.
He wasn't begging.
He wasn't embarrassed.
He was simply waiting.
Finally, Victor walked back.
"You still here?"
Marcus nodded.
"Yes."
"Who are you waiting for?"
Marcus looked at his phone.
"Someone who knows you."
Victor laughed.
"Everyone knows me."
Marcus smiled.
"Not everyone likes you."
Victor's smile disappeared.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
The security guard stepped forward.
"Sir."
Marcus raised his hands.
"I'm not causing trouble."
Victor pointed at him.
"You've already caused enough."
Marcus looked at the pointing finger.
"Then I'll leave."
Victor nodded.
"Good."
Marcus turned.
He took three steps.
Then stopped.
He looked back.
"One question."
Victor sighed.
"What?"
"If someone walked in wearing a thousand-dollar suit, would you have treated them differently?"
Victor smiled.
"Of course."
Marcus nodded.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For proving my point."
Victor stared at him.
Marcus walked away.
The security guard watched him disappear into the rain.
Victor returned inside.
He felt satisfied.
He had protected the reputation of Luxe.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Ten minutes later, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Victor Hale."
A man's voice spoke.
"Mr. Hale."
"Who is this?"
"You just met my son."
Victor froze.
"Who?"
"Marcus."
Victor looked toward the entrance.
"Who are you?"