It was a slow Tuesday afternoon at the Barneys New York where Lydia relaxed, sitting comfortably with her legs crossed at the knee while she sipped her Starbucks. For the last twenty minutes she'd been the only customer in the store's famed designer shoe department, and while countless extravagant, beautiful things surrounded her and certainly drew her interest, she made no move to even turn her head, instead keeping her attention focused on the young, scrawny salesman doing his best to casually approach her.
He was timid, possibly new. His little skinny tie seemed too tight around his neck, but to his credit he looked Lydia in the eye and managed a smile. "Hello, how are you?" he genuinely inquired.
Lydia was wholly indifferent to his greeting. Her expression was entirely unchanged and her only reply was to give a slight jerk of her head to the right, letting the boy follow her eyes to a carefully constructed display.
"The suede Louboutins, size 8."
Her voice was flat and firm, her statement clearly a command and not a request. The salesman stood there for a moment, blinking back his surprise, but eventually gave a little nod and a slightly forced smile before turning to briefly inspect the displayed shoe before disappearing into the back to seek out what this demanding woman desired.
Customers that routinely purchased thousand-dollar heels could be a touch eccentric and demanding, he had been told, and building a client base was important to the business and, more importantly, his own success as well.
He reemerged from the stockroom, resolved to satisfy this woman and make this sale. Lydia's eyes were already on him, staring him down while he approached. "These are exceptional shoes, miss," he began. "Five and a half inch heel with nearly an inch on the platform, and the beige suede really brings out that signature red sole."
He seemed rather proud of himself as he lifted one of the extravagant stilettos from the box and offered it to his customer. His newly found confidence began to fade rather quickly, though, as she seemed wholly disinterested in taking it from his hands, instead taking another sip of her macchiato. It was only after a long, awkward moment that Lydia stretched her leg out, extending her black boot towards the flustered young salesman.
"Ah, miss, we... we don't really..." he began, clearly unsettled by the bold expectations her simple gestures seemed to demand. Lydia's only response, though, was to take another sip of her Starbucks and raise her eyebrows, and that was enough to express her impatience to the struggling boy.
If he couldn't deal with self-entitled, rich women he'd never make it in this environment. What if she became a regular customer? Her towering ankle-length boots were Christian Dior; she clearly had a taste for extravagant and expensive footwear. The commission from a few loyal clients could build a brilliant beginning to his career.
Those were the thoughts running through his mind as he swallowed his pride and sunk to his knees at Lydia's feet. His fingers began to manipulate the buckles of his customer's boot, but despite his determination, the salesman couldn't resist glancing up at her while he worked, perhaps for some sort of reassurance.
Lydia met his gaze. In fact, she was quite enjoying watching this little man give in to her so easily, though the only hint of her pleasure was the faintest beginnings of an amused smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. She let that grin spread the slightest bit more once his head had dropped once again, enjoying the sight of him delicately cradling her boot as he slid it off. Her toes stretched within her freshly-freed dark, rich stocking, and while the man turned to carefully set her designer boot aside, she recrossed her legs to offer him her other boot, letting those toes faintly brush his cheek as they moved.
The instant he felt her warm toes touch the side of his face, the salesman took a sharp, indignant breath and jerked his head back to reflexively glare at the woman, but she was too occupied with pulling her phone from her bag and checking something on it while she waited for him to remove her other boot. He continued to glare, and she continued to easily ignore him, the only sign that she was still aware of his existence being a slight bob of her foot, drawing his attention back to the reason why he was on his knees in the first place.
The most faintly audible grunt left him as he started working the buckles of her second boot. The tapping of her fingertips on the screen of her iPhone let him know she was still too busy to pay attention, even as he slid her boot free and set it next to its mate.
He began unpacking the designer pumps, carefully unwrapping them and lifting the first from its box. The impulse to glance up at her struck again and his eyes slipped upwards. When he unexpectedly met her intense gaze instead of seeing her contentedly ignoring him as he expected, the slightest gasp passed his lips before his head dropped back down to focus on his work.
Lydia softly breathed as she watched the boy guide the immaculate shoe onto her eagerly awaiting toes, even letting a soft sigh of contentment leave her as her heel settled into the back of the pump and she experienced the rich, virgin leather yielding to the curves of her foot for the first time.
