A second attendant smiled as he opened the large glass door that announced Gump's, in gold leaf lettering. Removing her sunglasses, she headed straight for the elevator. As she waited for its arrival, she lifted an antique hand mirror from a display. Taking in her own reflection, she shook her hair and checked her teeth. Her brown, Bette Davis eyes grew even more expansive at the discovery of a pinpoint blemish just above her eyebrow. She touched it and clucked. Swearing under her breath, she returned the mirror to the glass counter and replaced her sunglasses. She had to get out of these bright lights.
A bell chimed, signaling the arrival of the elevator. Turning from the counter, she noticed a small, smiling elderly woman.
"Madam, can I show you some of our other fine silver mirrors?"
Greta Locke spun to hold the elevator door open. Wearing an expression intended to come off as playful, she turned back to the saleswoman. But when she noticed the woman staring at her gloved hand holding the jutting elevator door, Greta's response was anything but playful. "The last thing I need is an expensive silver mirror to remind me to stop eating chocolate."
She boarded the elevator.
"Why Mrs. Locke, what a pleasant surprise!" said the attractive salesman, all smiles, as Greta approached. He stood before the Steuben crystal room situated at the end of the mercifully subdued second level. Behind him there stood a row of ghostly illuminated glass cases containing spectacular pieces of some of the world's finest crystal. His modest platinum name badge said he was Mr. William Armond.
"Billy," Greta said, pausing one step before proceeding past him, "there's something I'd like to see in the Houston collection."
"Of course," Mr. Armond said, trailing her. He glanced at his associate, Ms. Olson, whose territories were the Lalique and Baccarat rooms. Reluctant to catch his eye, she pursed her lips and busied herself at her desk, addressing small, golden catalogs.
Greta Locke was Mr. Armond's best customer, one of Gump's best customers, and everyone who worked there knew it. She had spent several hundred thousand dollars at Gump's in the two years Mr. Armond had had the good fortune of knowing her. Last year she had arranged a deal between Gump's and Wallaby, Incorporated, to purchase corporate gifts at a special quantity discount. A discount of five percent can be quite sizable, she noted to her husband, when he purchased eight Steuben flower vases last year as Christmas presents for the wives of the Wallaby board members, at four hundred dollars apiece.
She removed her sunglasses and studied the curves and artwork of a large bowl displayed in the glass case. She'd had her eye on it for some time now. It was a James Houston original, engraved with painstaking detail. Circling the bowl's rim were salmon swimming against an invisible current, surrounded by tiny air bubbles. The piece was breathtaking.