As Luke returned from the bathroom, he could hear a sweet voice growing louder that could only be Lucinda’s. He turned away from the dressing suite and followed the voice. Along the way, he passed dressing gowns that looked like they’d been dropped on the floor. As he got closer, whole racks had been pushed aside. It looked like Lucinda had made her own way to the counter. He turned the corner to see her wearing a blue kimono that had become a tank-top rather than a gown.
‘Madam, you are standing on a four thousand-dollar Vivienne Westwood. The creases that have occurred means that it is no longer saleable.’
‘Never mind that, why haven’t you got any Gucci in my size?’
‘I will kindly telephone Mr. Michele to see what can be done but I regret that I cannot assist you today.’
Luke walked over to the counter and slapped down his credit card and a hundred-dollar bill. ‘See that you do’ he said.
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