Chapter 43: | pretty penny-1

Riz was right, once we arrive at the Miami Design District, I get it. It has a different feel to it. It's like shopping in a modern art museum. The combination of lush green palm trees, unconventional architecture, exquisite art, haute couture fashion and fine food fuel me, propelling me into a whole new stratosphere. I'm energized just being in this space. Sculptures loom over us as we walk past. The murals on the buildings are incredible. The stories they tell, their scale and the amount of detail in the paintings are enough to warrant me to spend the whole afternoon here, just marveling at it all. I'm giddy with excitement as we walk past the Dior and Christian Louboutin stores, which is strange for me. I guess I never got excited before because I couldn't afford to entertain the thought. I've never owned name brand clothes that weren't handed down or bought at a thrift store and the thought that on this shopping spree, I very well may own a few new items, floods my brain with dopamine. It's a high I've never known. Thrift shops have been my haven since I can remember. Mama taught me how to stretch a dollar and college forced me to put that lesson into practice. But I've graduated, there are new life lessons to learn now. We arrive at an extravagant boutique called Caviar. How posh! Phoenix opens the door for me. I step over the threshold and behold the beauty of all that is before me. Room after room, and rack after rack of dresses, blouses, pants, jewelry, and yes, shoes, that leave me salivating. "I've never been to a store like this before." My eyes undoubtedly betray my sheer delight and bewilderment as the possibilities run through my mind. I accept your invitation, Phoenix. I suppose I can let myself have a few nice things . . . . For the first time in forever, I don't scorn myself. I don't pull back. I don't look for an excuse on why I shouldn't, couldn't or can't. I let the excitement slowly churn in my chest, building momentum with each turn. By the time a sales associate greets us, I'm brimming with enthusiasm. It tickles the surface, threatening to spill out, but I manage to keep it contained. I hear the voice before I see who's talking. In a haughty, condescending tone, someone says, "Excuse me. Are you — er . . . in the right place?" The associate looks over the rim of her trendy red glasses and in a split second, with one sweeping glance, determines we don't belong here. I straighten my posture. "This is Caviar, right? The clothing boutique? So, yes, I think we're in the right place." I look around the store, silently seething. Her pale cheeks turn a bright red. "Umm —" Flustered, she straightens out her white blouse. "— in that case, welcome to Caviar." She clears her throat and lengthens her neck as if readying herself for a performance. "Our lavish boutique boasts haute couture and fresh-off-the-runway fashion. Let me give you a tour. I'll be happy to help you." Mia reaches towards a glass case displaying a women's pave diamond Cartier bracelet. Immediately the associate rushes to the display before Mia can touch the glass. She hovers protectively. Through phony laughter, she tells Mia, "Oh! That'll cost you a pretty penny! We have more wallet-friendly options over here." She attempts to lead Mia away. "No. We'd rather have a look at this bracelet." I glance across the sales floor. "And actually, we'd rather deal with . . . her." I point to another associate on the other side of the store. "She looks . . . " My gaze returns, and I lock eyes with the rude associate. ". . . more approachable. Wouldn't you say?" I ask in a mocking tone. "Her?" The store clerk scrambles, looking for an excuse. "Well, she's not that—" "— She'll be perfect. Won't you be a darling and fetch her for me, please?" Blinking my eyes rapidly, I plaster a fake smile on my face and send her away. She walks off like a dog with her tail tucked between her legs. I turn to Mia and Penelope who surround me. "What's her deal?" Mia asks, sounding irritated. "Your guess is as good as mine." Penelope gives me a silent, girly high-five. "That's right. Put that snobby bitch in her place, chica." "She is beyond fucked up. Bitch, get a life!" Mia says, before crossing her arms. "Ari clowned her." Riz consoles Mia as he rubs her arms. "She had it coming." JC nods. "Yeah, with that attitude." Nixon shakes his head. "You just not getting the love today, girl." Sheila throws salt, at me. My only reply is to stare at her with cold, dead eyes. Smiling like he's swallowed a secret, Phoenix walks over to me, hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. How could he not be pissed by this? "Ari, babe, I've seen it all. I know her type. She's a poser. She talks the talk, but can't walk the walk. Look at her heels. Louboutin, yes but worn to the nub like it's the only pair she owns. Her so-called designer watch isn't keeping time anymore and her diamond stud earrings look more like cheap cubic zirconia. People like her only see limitation, so they cut people down every chance they get, just to feel better about themselves. "But I'll set it right. Let it go. For what's it worth, she won't reach her financial goals with us. We'll make sure the other associate she brings over gets the commission she could've had." He pauses, then smiles broadly. "In other words, we're shutting this store down." My anger dissolves and out comes the sun. He's amazing. The new sales associate comes to us eager to please and ready to work. A lovely redhead, with a friendly face and a slender figure, she's dressed impeccably wearing a cream designer blouse, pinstriped pencil skirt and black red bottoms. She has a real eye for fashion. "Hi, I'm Raquel. I'll be assisting you today. Is there anything you're looking for, specifically?" Her eyes are warm and judgment-free. I welcome her with a huge smile. My excitement returns. "Yes! We're going to an all-white party, tonight." "There's also the masquerade party tomorrow. The big finale. Formal wear," Riz tells her. "We're partying all weekend." "I only see women's clothing, where are the men's?" Mia looks around, searching. "The first floor is exclusively women's apparel; all the other floors are split men's and women's. There are five floors, we can explore them all if you want. I'm sure we can find something to suit both events, for everyone." Phoenix walks towards the escalator. "We'll go off on our own. Where are the dressing rooms?" "They're on the fifth floor," Raquel replies. "We'll meet you there, babe." Phoenix kisses me on the forehead and leaves with Riz, JC, and Nixon. Raquel turns to us girls, and asks questions about each of our preferences. Then she begins the tour. She even offers us champagne as we shop, which we all happily accept. As we walk through, she suggests items that fit each of our individual preferences and she proves me right. Her chic sense of style is undeniable. We walk past a mannequin wearing a sheer mesh, green evening gown with embroidered crystals. It's stunning. Knowing I shouldn't, I flip the price tag over and I'm shocked to say the least. It's more than five times what I pay for rent, groceries, and utilities combined. Out of curiosity, I halt the tour. "Raquel, can we find this dress in my size? I'd like to try it on." In my heart of hearts, I can't afford it. I know I'm absolutely not buying it but I have to try it on. I have to see what it feels like. By the end of the tour, each of us have a small rack of items to try on. I call Phoenix to let him know we're on the fifth floor. Raquel takes us back to a giant VIP dressing room. It's surrounded with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and in the center of the room, there's an antique sofa and two chairs with gold-swirled fabric and ornate gold-leaf trim that resembles the regal detailing of a tiara. In a corner, sits a matching chaise. In total, there are eight dressing rooms behind tall golden drapes, four each on opposite walls.