Chapter 10 - THE LAST LAUGH ON THE WAIT LIST
The rain started softly on Saturday morning, turning the downtown sidewalks into shimmering mirrors that reflected the neon signs of the luxury district. Inside the flagship store, the air was warm, smelling of polished mahogany and high-end espresso.
Business was steady, calm, and civilized—the way luxury retail was always meant to be.
At around eleven o'clock, the heavy glass doors swung open, and a familiar figure hesitated in the entryway. Vanessa Sterling stood under the shelter of the portico, looking through the glass at the sparkling display cases inside. She wasn't wearing sunglasses this time, and her hair was pulled back into a simple, unassuming ponytail.
She didn't try to push her way past security. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't demand to see the store manager.
She just stood there for a long moment, looking at the row of steel Daytonas resting securely behind the bulletproof glass on their velvet pedestals—pieces that still required history, still required loyalty, and still required patience.
Through the clear glass partition, her eyes met mine.
I didn't gloat. I didn't scowl. I simply offered her a polite, professional retail nod—the same neutral, welcoming nod we gave to every person who walked through our doors.
Vanessa swallowed hard, pulled her trench coat tighter around her shoulders, turned around, and walked out into the rain, disappearing into the city crowd without ever touching a single doorknob.
David walked up beside me, holding a fresh cleaning cloth and a bottle of crystal polish. He followed my gaze toward the empty doorway, then looked down at me with a slow, knowing smile.
May you like
“Think she’ll ever come back?” David asked quietly.
“Not on this wait list,” I replied, taking the polishing cloth from his hand and turning back to the vintage Submariner case. “Some things you just can't buy your way into.”
