Chapter 2 - BURGUNDY AND MARBLE
A door at the back of the showroom opened with a quiet click.
The heavy oak door swung on silent hydraulic hinges.
A young man stepped out onto the marble floor.
He wore a burgundy double-breasted suit, tailored so sharply the shoulder seams looked like straight razor cuts.
A solid black shirt and matching black tie sat beneath the deep red wool.
His leather shoes made no sound as he walked across the floor.
He carried a small velvet-lined tray in his left hand, empty and waiting.
The woman in the fur coat straightened her back, her face smoothing out into an expectant smile.
She knew that suit.
It was the bespoke uniform reserved only for the general manager of the boutique.
"Finally," she sighed loudly, rustling her coat. "Someone with authority."
She raised her hand, resting her diamond rings prominently against the glass display case.
"I was just telling your clerk that some people do not belong in a establishment like this."
She pointed her long red nail toward the girl in the simple white dress.
"She's been standing here holding a broken toy for ten minutes."
"It's cluttering the environment."
The man in the burgundy suit didn't look at the woman.
He didn't look at her fur coat.
He didn't look at the diamond rings resting on the glass.
He walked past her, his red sleeve brushing lightly against her arm.
He stopped directly in front of the girl in the white dress.
His knees bent.
The fine wool of his burgundy trousers creaked slightly as he dipped into a low, formal bow.
His head stayed down for three full seconds.
The stillness in the room stretched until even the violin music seemed to fade away.
"Doña Yacita," the man said, his voice deep, smooth, and entirely unhurried.
"Bienvenida."
The girl in the white dress didn't smile.
She simply shifted the wooden horse to her right hand and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"The air conditioning is set two degrees too low, Matteo," she said softly.
Matteo didn't rise from his bow immediately.
"I will adjust the thermostat at once, Doña Yacita."
The woman in the fur coat blinked.
Her hand dropped from the glass case.
Her red nails curled inward into her palm, hitting the soft leather of her gloves.
"Doña... what?" she stammered, her voice losing its sharp edge.
She took a half-step forward, the mink coat shifting heavily over her shoulders.
"Doña Yacita?" she repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Who is she?"
Matteo slowly stood up straight.
He smoothed the front of his double-breasted burgundy jacket with two fingers.
He turned his head slowly toward the blonde woman.
His face was completely devoid of warmth.
"Who is she?" the blonde woman insisted, her voice rising an octave, rattling against the quiet room.
"She looks like she walked out of a soup kitchen!"
"She's wearing a blank dress!"
The little boy, Leo, reached down and picked up his canvas backpack by the strap.
He swung it up onto his back with a heavy thud.
The zipper was broken, revealing the edge of a worn, faded children's picture book inside.
"My mama's dress isn't blank," Leo said, his voice flat and clear.
"It doesn't have dirt on it like your coat."
The woman ignored the boy, keeping her eyes locked on Matteo's cold, dark eyes.
"Answer me," she snapped, though her hand trembled slightly against her purse.
"I am a premier client here."
"I spent forty thousand dollars in this room last Christmas!"
Matteo adjusted his black tie with a single, precise twitch of his thumb.
He didn't tilt his head. He didn't blink.
"Madam," Matteo said softly.
May you like
"You are standing in her house."
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