Emma felt an emotion rise that had nothing to do with commission. She pictured a woman taking off a necklace she loved so other people could bring their paychecks home, and the image made the jewelry in the case seem different. "I think she'll be very happy that you still remember your promise," she said. David looked at her with sudden gratitude, because he had not realized how much he wanted someone else to understand that he had remembered.
"I'll take it," he said.
Victor had heard the conversation. He had also seen David's hands, rougher than he expected from a wealthy customer, and the fraying along the edge of his wallet when the older man drew it from his pocket. Victor could not reconcile the story about employees and a difficult business with his quick judgment about the jacket, so he decided the story must be false. In Victor's mind, a purchase as large as thirty-eight thousand dollars belonged to a certain type of person, and David did not resemble that type.
"We should discuss payment before you make any decisions," Victor announced, stepping closer. Emma began to reply that David had already made a decision, but Victor lifted a hand without looking at her. David opened his old wallet and removed a dark, unembossed premium card whose numbers were printed discreetly on the reverse, leaving the front clean except for the issuer's mark.
Victor stared at the smooth surface. The card looked unfamiliar to him, and rather than ask for the details or use the secure terminal, he smiled with open disbelief. "No embossed numbers on the front," he said. "Where did you get this?"
"The information is on the back," David answered. "You can put it in the terminal. If there's any question, you can call the bank." He held the card out calmly, expecting the sort of ordinary verification that accompanies an expensive transaction, and Emma moved the payment terminal into place.
Victor did not take the terminal. He looked from the scratched old wallet to the card and gave another humorless laugh. "Someone carrying a wallet like that has a premium card?" he asked, making no attempt to lower his voice. Emma felt heat rise in her face, though David remained motionless.
"Victor," she said, "we could try processing the payment first." He turned toward her so abruptly that she took an involuntary step back. "I know what I'm doing," he snapped. "You concentrate on your own work."
David lowered his hand slightly. "If you have doubts," he repeated, "call the bank. Don't judge before you've checked." He said it with the patience of someone offering the other man a route back from a mistake before the mistake became something permanent.