Read Online Privilege 1 - Privilege by Kate Brian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Brian
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shopper had left on the rack by the dressing room door.
If she just acted casual, no one would be the wiser.
On her way to the gleaming walkway between departments, Ariana's left foot twinged in pain, and she remembered that she wasn't done yet. If shoes made the woman, then she was still nothing but a grungy fugitive. She paused to check the store directory and was nearly knocked over by a pair of brassy ladies in huge flower prints carrying half a dozen bags each. The summer sales were on and the store was jam-packed with designer-hungry bargain-hunters. Normally not one for crowds, Ariana smiled as she realized her luck. The shoe department would be a madhouse.
Twenty minutes later, Ariana had gathered several pairs of sandals, sling-backs, boots, and flats and found one of the very few unoccupied seats in the center of the shoe department. All around her women jammed their feet into shoes from the sale racks, boxes and boxes piled up next to them. Ariana waited ten minutes, a totally unacceptable period of time, before one of the salesladies finally noticed her. She rushed over, all harried, with her curly hair floating out around her head like brown cotton candy, and heaved a sigh.
"So sorry, miss," she said, grabbing up the shoes Ariana had gathered. "Size?"
"Six," Ariana replied. "And please, don't worry about it. It's crazy here today."
71
"Tell me about it!" the woman said, taking a breath. "Thanks for understanding."
Ariana smirked as the woman scurried away. As long as you understand when I deprive your department of a few hundred dollars' worth of shoes.
As she waited, Ariana watched a tall woman across from her try on several pairs of expensive sandals without even bothering to put peds over her gnarled, callus-ridden toes. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and looked away.
"Here you go!"
The saleswoman returned and dumped ten shoe boxes at Ariana's feet. Instantly, three more shoe-wielding shoppers descended upon her, demanding sizes. She made a few notes and rushed off again without a second glance back at Ariana.
Perfect. Slowly, deliberately, Ariana opened each of the boxes. She didn't even need to try the shoes on. She had owned several pairs of shoes from these designers in her former life and knew that she was a perfect size six on their size charts. Quickly checking to make sure that none of the other shoppers were looking, Ariana slipped a pair of Coach flats into her bag. She followed them with a pair of leather Michael Kors sandals, black sling-backs, and some cute Kenneth Cole sneakers. Then she paused. The bag was full to bursting. If she tried to get anything else in there, it was either going to tear, or someone was going to notice the shape of a heel sticking into the vinyl and she'd get snagged.
Decisions, decisions.
72
Ariana eyed the rest of the shoes with longing. Finally, she decided on a pair of sensible black D&G sandals, which would go with almost anything. She pushed her feet into them and sighed. Not one of her painful blisters was aggravated by the straps. They were like heaven for her toes.
Quickly, Ariana placed her hiking boots inside the sneaker box, closed it up, and put it on the bottom of the stack. She then closed all the other boxes and looked around. Her saleswoman was helping a middle-aged woman with leathery skin strap on a pair of four-inch heels. Taking a deep breath, Ariana shouldered her now quite heavy backpack and strolled away from the shoe department.
On the way back through the women's clothing department, one of the saleswomen gave her an admiring smile--the sort of smile Ariana had been used to before her stay at the Brenda T. Ariana felt a flutter of pride. She was back. Really and truly back.
73
A SCARE
Ariana strolled the mall in her new sandals, heading for the exit at a deliberate pace. She knew that sooner or later that saleswoman was going to find all those empty boxes along with her crappy boots, and sound the alarm.
If she just acted casual, no one would be the wiser.
On her way to the gleaming walkway between departments, Ariana's left foot twinged in pain, and she remembered that she wasn't done yet. If shoes made the woman, then she was still nothing but a grungy fugitive. She paused to check the store directory and was nearly knocked over by a pair of brassy ladies in huge flower prints carrying half a dozen bags each. The summer sales were on and the store was jam-packed with designer-hungry bargain-hunters. Normally not one for crowds, Ariana smiled as she realized her luck. The shoe department would be a madhouse.
Twenty minutes later, Ariana had gathered several pairs of sandals, sling-backs, boots, and flats and found one of the very few unoccupied seats in the center of the shoe department. All around her women jammed their feet into shoes from the sale racks, boxes and boxes piled up next to them. Ariana waited ten minutes, a totally unacceptable period of time, before one of the salesladies finally noticed her. She rushed over, all harried, with her curly hair floating out around her head like brown cotton candy, and heaved a sigh.
"So sorry, miss," she said, grabbing up the shoes Ariana had gathered. "Size?"
"Six," Ariana replied. "And please, don't worry about it. It's crazy here today."
71
"Tell me about it!" the woman said, taking a breath. "Thanks for understanding."
Ariana smirked as the woman scurried away. As long as you understand when I deprive your department of a few hundred dollars' worth of shoes.
As she waited, Ariana watched a tall woman across from her try on several pairs of expensive sandals without even bothering to put peds over her gnarled, callus-ridden toes. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and looked away.
"Here you go!"
The saleswoman returned and dumped ten shoe boxes at Ariana's feet. Instantly, three more shoe-wielding shoppers descended upon her, demanding sizes. She made a few notes and rushed off again without a second glance back at Ariana.
Perfect. Slowly, deliberately, Ariana opened each of the boxes. She didn't even need to try the shoes on. She had owned several pairs of shoes from these designers in her former life and knew that she was a perfect size six on their size charts. Quickly checking to make sure that none of the other shoppers were looking, Ariana slipped a pair of Coach flats into her bag. She followed them with a pair of leather Michael Kors sandals, black sling-backs, and some cute Kenneth Cole sneakers. Then she paused. The bag was full to bursting. If she tried to get anything else in there, it was either going to tear, or someone was going to notice the shape of a heel sticking into the vinyl and she'd get snagged.
Decisions, decisions.
72
Ariana eyed the rest of the shoes with longing. Finally, she decided on a pair of sensible black D&G sandals, which would go with almost anything. She pushed her feet into them and sighed. Not one of her painful blisters was aggravated by the straps. They were like heaven for her toes.
Quickly, Ariana placed her hiking boots inside the sneaker box, closed it up, and put it on the bottom of the stack. She then closed all the other boxes and looked around. Her saleswoman was helping a middle-aged woman with leathery skin strap on a pair of four-inch heels. Taking a deep breath, Ariana shouldered her now quite heavy backpack and strolled away from the shoe department.
On the way back through the women's clothing department, one of the saleswomen gave her an admiring smile--the sort of smile Ariana had been used to before her stay at the Brenda T. Ariana felt a flutter of pride. She was back. Really and truly back.
73
A SCARE
Ariana strolled the mall in her new sandals, heading for the exit at a deliberate pace. She knew that sooner or later that saleswoman was going to find all those empty boxes along with her crappy boots, and sound the alarm.
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