Elizabeth stepped off the elevator into the mall’s shopping area, her eyes catching the sleek design of a newly opened Morwick counter.
A pen immediately came to mind—a simple yet thoughtful gift.
In her mind’s eye, she pictured Daxton, seated by a window in a crisp white shirt, writing with focused intensity.
Among everyone she knew, Daxton was the most scholarly.
Oliver had a polished demeanor too, but his refinement was tempered by years of handling Elijah’s demanding world.
Daxton, however, carried an air of pure elegance, untainted by pragmatism.
With a sense of clarity, Elizabeth decided on her gift and walked confidently toward the counter.
As she approached, the saleswoman behind the counter initially smiled but, upon taking in Elizabeth’s unassuming outfit, her expression grew dismissive. She didn’t bother greeting Elizabeth and instead turned to whisper with another saleswoman.
Elizabeth immediately understood. She wasn’t wearing high-end brands, so the saleswoman had decided she wasn’t a “serious” customer.
This kind of judgment amused her more than it annoyed her—she had encountered plenty of people who judged others by appearances.
Ignoring the frosty reception, Elizabeth browsed the display case until her eyes landed on a silver pen encrusted with diamonds standing with others on a display case. Its sapphire-tipped cap gleamed under the counter’s lights. Its refined beauty made it stand out from the rest.
“Could you take this pen out for me to see?” Elizabeth asked politely, pointing at it.
The younger saleswoman hesitated, her instincts leaning toward assisting Elizabeth.
“Of course, Miss—”
Before she could finish, the older saleswoman stepped in, her voice sharp.
“What are you doing? Are you seriously going to show it to her?” She shot the younger saleswoman a pointed look.
“If it gets damaged or dirty, are you planning to pay for it out of your own pocket?”
The younger saleswoman froze, her enthusiasm deflating instantly. She lowered her gaze, retreating behind the counter as if trying to disappear.
The older saleswoman stepped up, her chin lifted slightly as she addressed Elizabeth with a thin, mocking smile.
“This pen is a global limited edition. There are several models in the series, but only one was allocated to Orkset. It’s priced at ten million.”
She paused, letting the price sink in before adding,
“Even the counters in Isonridge don’t carry it.”
Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the exorbitant cost.
She had always thought of Morwick as Elijah’s favorite brand—not particularly expensive, but of high quality.
While she wanted to give Daxton a thoughtful gift, this pen was far beyond what she considered appropriate. Daxton wouldn’t accept it anyway.
Still, whether she bought it or not was her decision. She wouldn’t tolerate being insulted.
Elizabeth tapped her fingers lightly on the glass counter and said evenly,
“Whether it’s ten thousand or ten million, as a customer, I have the right to examine the product. If holding it would cause damage, then maybe your brand’s quality isn’t as impeccable as you claim.”
The saleswoman laughed, her tone exaggerated.
“Miss, do you even understand what luxury means? People who can afford a ten-million-dollar pen aren’t using it to write grocery lists.”
Elizabeth’s mind drifted to Elijah. He had a preference for pens over computers, often jotting down ideas in his impeccable handwriting.
She used to do the same when drafting scripts, borrowing his pens without asking.
She remembered the times she’d jabbed the pen into the paper in frustration, ruining several of them.
The pens Elijah casually used were far more extravagant than this one.
Thinking of it now, she couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. The royalties from her scripts wouldn’t even cover the cost of one of his pens.
“People can exist together and still be many worlds apart,” she mused.
As Elizabeth’s expression shifted, the saleswoman misread her reaction as defeat.
Emboldened, she leaned closer, her smirk widening.
“Let me enlighten you. This pen was specially ordered by Sandra for Mr. James. Because he likes it, our counter was able to secure it for display. It’s just being stored here temporarily.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“Do you even know who Mr. James is?”
Elizabeth’s face remained impassive.
“No matter who he is, does his money have a special exchange rate? Is it worth more than mine?” Her voice was calm but cutting.
“As someone working in customer service, you should know better than to judge customers based on appearances.”
The saleswoman threw her head back and laughed mockingly, turning to the other two saleswomen.
“Did you hear that? These types always have something to say. Who gave her the confidence to walk in here and talk like this?”
The two younger saleswomen exchanged nervous glances but stayed silent.
Seeing her words go unanswered, the older saleswoman turned back to Elizabeth, her tone dripping with condescension.
“You’re seriously out of your depth here. Do you really think you could afford this pen? Even if you sold your entire family, you’d still fall short.”
Elizabeth stopped tapping on the glass. She pulled her hand back, her tone icy.
“Is this your idea of customer service? Call your manager.”
The saleswoman rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defiantly.
“Manager? You really want to meet our manager?”
“And what about me? Am I worthy of meeting your manager?” A new voice interrupted, smooth and authoritative.
