"Ms. lanie, there’s a woman here to see you. She..." The assistant hesitated, then lowered her voice as if unsure how to continue. "She seems to believe that you work here, and she’s insisting on eting you personally so you can receive all the commission from whatever she decides to purchase."
lanie raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked at her assistant before shaking her head slowly. "Didn’t you explain to her that we don’t work on commission?"
"I tried... but she wouldn’t hear it. She just kept talking over . It’s like she knows you-or at least knows of you. So if you have a mont, maybe you could speak with her?"
lanie let out a sigh, already grimacing. She could guess. Her assistant looked entirely uncomfortable which ant that it was probably the sa woman from the club she had t last week. The one who seed entirely too interested in her. What was her na? Right, Marianne.
lanie sighed and nodded at her assistant. "Fine. I’ll talk to her."
She walked out of the office and through the store and almost grimaced as she spotted Marianne near the fabric swatches, flipping through them like she belonged there. Darn. She had hoped she was mistaken and it had been soone else.
As lanie approached, Marianne looked up and smiled as if they were old friends, even coming forward to hug her. "lanie. I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble."
lanie returned the smile politely, barely sidestepping the hug as she said, "Of course not. Welco to LuxeArt. How can I help?"
"I’m thinking of redoing my place," Marianne said, brushing her fingers across a roll of linen. "And the first na that popped into my head was yours. I rembered what you’d said at the club about this store, and I thought-why not co here directly? If anyone deserves the commission, it’s you, for helping ."
lanie’s smile didn’t shift. "We don’t work on commission. So, you can buy anything that catches your eye. I’d be happy to show you around."
"That’s what your assistant said. I didn’t believe her at first. Still. I ca for you." Marianne shrugged for a mont and then, stepping forward, looped her arm through lanie’s and said," Even so, I’d like your help. I have the pictures of all the rooms that I want redone. The old pictures of how they looked and the empty ones. So, I just hope you will be able to help with this."
lanie glanced around, noting the filled cart beside her. "Looks like you’ve already made so choices."
"I have," Marianne said. "But I’m far from done."
lanie nodded once and then stepped back," We have professional interior decorators on staff. I can connect you with soone who can guide you through the whole process. They’ll be better equipped for helping you out. Do you have any specific style in mind?"
"I don’t want a professional," Marianne cut in, her tone still pleasant but surprisingly firm for a woman who looked like she was okay with everything and then lanie muttered, "I want you."
lanie blinked at that. "Ugh.I’m not a designer. I work in this place, but I’m not trained in decor."
Marianne waved that off. "That’s exactly why I want you. I hate professional work—it always feels too clean, too impersonal. All those portfolios and mood boards make everything look the sa. I’d rather have soone with taste and instinct. Soone like you."
lanie exhaled slowly, keeping her expression neutral. "You don’t even know . Or my taste. What if it doesn’t suit you?"
"I know enough. We talked for quite so ti at the club, rember? I trust your opinion. Also, I am going to be using my own head. I just want soone to sound my ideas against.
lanie stayed quiet.
Marianne smiled and leaned closer. "Co on. I’ve got the pictures. Just take a look. If it’s really not for you, I’ll back off."
lanie glanced at the assistant across the room, then back at Marianne. "Fine. Let’s see them."
lanie nodded once and led her down the hallway toward the consultation room. Neither of them spoke as they entered. lanie gestured to the table, and Marianne pulled out her phone.
She opened the gallery and slid it across. "These are the old rooms. I haven’t touched them in years. Just emptied them out recently."
lanie didn’t respond. She sat down, picked up the phone, and started swiping through the photos. One by one, her eyes widening as she swuped throught the first few. Bedroom. Study. Balcony. A hallway with a crooked lamp. A reading nook with an old rocking chair in the corner.
Her face didn’t change. She looked at each image steadily and unhurriedly, her face soon turning impassive.
Marianne didn’t say anything either. Her entire focus was not on the pictures that she was telling lanie about but on her face. She just watched her. Quietly and carefully. Waiting for sothing. Anything. A flicker of recognition. A twitch in her brow. A pause. A comnt. But there was nothing.
Until lanie finally stopped at the image of the reading nook. Her finger hovered over it for a second longer than the rest. Marianne felt a flicker of excitent. As a little girl, she used to love sitting in that place for hours on end with her little books. Maybe lody rembered sothing? If she did, conversation could flow so much more easily.
Then lanie sighed and set the phone down.
Marianne straightened a little in her chair, hopeful. "What do you think?"
lanie looked at her then. Marianne felt her breath catch as she waited for an answer.
lanie tapped the table lightly once, then finally spoke.
"This house..." she began, voice quiet.
"Yes. Do you think it looks as if you know the place? It looks full of nostalgia, doesn’t it?"
lanie nodded cautiously and began, " This house...is quite old, isn’t it?"
Marianne felt deflated at the question as she realized that lanie had not recognised anything...
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