"Sir," Victor called to Theo, "we may need help removing someone who won't take no for an answer." Theo looked at David, whose hands were resting visibly on the glass. Then he looked at the scissors in Victor's hand and the card pieces on the counter. "Is anyone in immediate danger?" Theo asked. Victor seemed offended by the question.
"He's refusing to leave," Victor replied. "Because I told him we wouldn't process a fake payment." Theo nodded slowly.
"Has he threatened anyone, tried to take merchandise, or interfered with another customer?" Victor's cheeks reddened. "I'm the floor manager. I don't need you to conduct an investigation."
Theo did not raise his voice. "I'm not conducting one. I'm trying to understand what you need security to do." He glanced at David, who had said nothing during the exchange, and added, "I can stay nearby until your supervisor arrives. That seems appropriate."
Victor turned away, muttering about employees who forgot their place. Emma saw Theo's restraint and silently thanked him. A guard doing exactly what an angry manager demanded, without assessing the situation, could have made a humiliating scene dangerous, and she knew enough about the world to understand that David's calm did not guarantee other people's fairness.
The two customers at the watch counter had begun speaking softly to each other. One of them, a middle-aged woman with a shopping bag from a nearby designer boutique, approached the edge of the showroom with a worried expression. "Excuse me," she said to Emma, "I heard the card break. Is the gentleman all right?" Emma hesitated, conscious that Victor was listening.
"He's waiting for a manager," she answered. "Thank you for asking." The woman glanced at David and gave him a small, awkward smile. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but she retreated when Victor moved toward her and offered to continue their previous conversation about watches.
David noticed the retreat. He did not judge her harshly, because he had learned that people often disliked witnessing cruelty without knowing how to interrupt it. Yet the fact remained that one young salesperson and one restrained security guard had been willing to ask the questions others avoided. He wondered how many customers had passed through the same doors and been made to feel unwanted without possessing the phone number he had just called.
On the twenty-third floor, Richard Ellison pushed his chair away from a conference table before the person presenting the quarterly leasing report had finished speaking. He was a broad-shouldered man in his late fifties, with glasses he regularly misplaced and a habit of carrying a pen even when he had no intention of writing. He had been the person who insisted that the Bellweather acquisition include a commitment to staff development rather than a simple change of branding, and he remembered David approving that commitment personally. Hearing that David was on the retail floor, asking for help, made him immediately uneasy.
Richard knew the owner was not fond of executive escorts. David sometimes entered his buildings without anyone recognizing him and spent more time asking janitors and delivery drivers about broken doors than speaking to senior managers about revenue. Those visits were usually brief, practical, and inconspicuous. David did not call to summon Richard to a store unless something was wrong.