“Good morning, sir,” he greeted Mike politely. His uniform and cap were impeccable, and he wore a heavy coat with epaulets and gold buttons, which looked military. Just seeing the doorman and the building made Mike feel as though he were going backward in time to a more genteel era of good manners and people who were properly dressed. The female employees he saw as he went into the store were wearing simple black dresses, stockings, and high heels, and had neatly combed hair. It looked like a world he remembered seeing with his mother when he was a little boy. As he glanced around, he saw elegant luxury items beautifully displayed. There was a rich smell of fine leather, and a hint of delicate perfume in the air. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was a subtle, fresh, pleasant scent, as he threaded his way among the counters, admiring the goods in the vitrines. It was exactly what his daughter had described, a place filled with extremely handsome things to buy, and as he walked to the back of the store he saw the hat department, filled with pretty hats, and he wondered if that was where his mother had gone with her grandmother to buy the hat she still remembered.
The store was beautifully decorated, with wood paneling, and looked modern. There were handsome chandeliers throughout the main floor. He saw a coat and a jacket he was tempted to try on in the men’s department, but he was on a reconnaissance mission, and didn’t want to get distracted. He recognized most of the brand names, although some were more obscure European brands, and he could see why Renee loved it and compared it to Chanel and Hermès. There was a pride of ownership that leapt out at him, unlike any comparable commercial store. He could feel the love that the family who owned it had for their store. It was almost like visiting someone’s home, and had a warm, welcoming atmosphere.
He went upstairs and saw the neatly laid out departments. Everything he saw looked appealing, and he saw a number of things he wanted to buy.
He was just leaving the men’s department, where he had admired a very elegant pair of well-made brown suede shoes. If he hadn’t been on his way to work, he would have tried them, but he didn’t want to be any later than he already was getting to his office.
He noticed an impeccably neat, beautiful blond woman watching him. She was wearing just a hint of makeup, her hair perfectly combed into a bun, with gold earrings, and high heels with a chic black suit. She was small, and perfectly proportioned, and she approached and asked him if he had found what he was looking for. He assumed that she was a floor manager, since she was wearing the black suit, unlike the uniform dress of the other female employees. The men wore blazers, gray slacks, and shirts and ties. There was no sign of the familiar casual dress of the day, no jeans or sweatshirts or running shoes on the staff. It added to the feeling of another era, and yet everything they were selling was modern, the latest fashion and up-to-date, and the décor of the store was contemporary too, in contrast to the handsome wood paneling, and the vintage architecture of the building. The interior had been modernized very subtly and effectively. The entire atmosphere of the store made it a place where one wanted to linger in the welcoming arms of luxury, which was displayed so well.
“Yes, I did,” Mike told the woman politely, as she smiled at him. She had inevitably noticed how handsome he was. She had seen too that he was wearing a well-cut suit that had been made by an expert tailor, and he was wearing well-polished, expensive shoes. She knew quality goods when she saw them. He was exactly the customer she liked to see at Brooke’s, one who would appreciate the merchandise they were selling, and the quality of their brands. “It’s a beautiful store,” he said. “I’m amazed. I’ve never been here before. Three people told me about it yesterday, and I decided I had to see it for myself.”
“We hope you’ll come back again now that you’ve found us. That’s how it is with most of our customers. We’re a surprise they don’t expect, but once they find us, they come back again and again.” She had a warm, welcoming smile and big bright blue eyes.
“It’s easy to see why.” He was admiring how well trained she was, and how warmly received he felt talking to her. She wasn’t overly friendly, and she was professional and polite, but she had a kind look in her eyes that struck him too. He could see that she enjoyed her job at Brooke’s. “What’s it like working here?” he asked her, curious about this magical place, tucked away in Chelsea, and only known to a select clientele. But the store was fairly full, for an early hour of the day. They clearly weren’t lacking customers, and he could see several people paying for what they had bought. Business appeared to be good.
“It’s wonderful,” Spencer answered his question. He had no idea he was speaking to the owner, and she preferred it that way. She expected all her salespeople to be discreet, polite, and professional, and she was the role model for them all. “I love coming to work every day,” she said, and he could see that she meant it.
“You’re lucky, not many people feel that way about their jobs,” Mike said, and she agreed. “I feel that way about my job too,” he volunteered.
“Then we’re both lucky.” She smiled warmly at him, and didn’t ask him what his job was.
“It looks like a good-sized staff,” he commented, not wanting to leave just yet, and enjoying talking to her. There was something about her that made him want to linger and chat for a few minutes.
“It is. We don’t like to keep our customers waiting, so our ratio of sales personnel to customer is higher than most stores. Service is very important to us, and personnel who genuinely enjoy serving people. I can’t stand rude salespeople,” she said, “which is so common in so many stores.”
“I agree. They let you stand there while they talk to their friends on their phones, or aren’t helpful when you’re looking for something.”
“We want our customers to leave satisfied, wanting to come back to us soon.”
“Well, I certainly will,” he said, smiling at her, having run out of excuses to keep talking to her. He had enjoyed their brief exchange. “I’ll come back soon, and my daughter made me promise I’d bring her too.”
“We’ll be happy to see you both,” Spencer said, and meant it. She’d enjoyed talking to him too. He was well-spoken and intelligent. She wondered who he was. He had an air of power and success about him, which he didn’t abuse, but it was there, she could easily sense it about him. “Thank you for your visit. Come back soon,” she said as he walked away with a last smile at her. He was still thinking about the whole experience as he got into a cab, and was still impressed by it when he got to his midtown office on Park Avenue and saw Renee.
“Well, I can see what you mean,” he said, when she stopped to talk to him in the hall. “I had a conference call at home this morning, and I stopped at Brooke’s on the way uptown. What an amazing place. Everything about it is perfect. The décor, the atmosphere, the sales staff, the merchandise. It makes you want to stay there all day and buy everything. They have fabulous things. I’d be broke in a week,” he said, and Renee laughed.
“I am every time I go there, but I always love everything I get. It’s never disappointing when I get it home, and the quality is fantastic. They really pick their merchandise well. And you don’t see it on everyone else. A lot of it is one-of-a-kind.”
“I spoke to some woman manager, and she said she loves working there. They must be very good to their staff. They are all very pleasant and can’t do enough to help you.”
“Now you can see why I suggested it yesterday. The place is a gem. I’m not sure how it would fare though if you moved it uptown. Even the building is special and has a kind of magic to it.”
“It’s been beautifully redone. They must have used a great architect,” Mike commented. He had noticed that the finishes were high quality. It was all expensive work.
“They did. The architect was someone from Italy, I think. Or maybe France.”
“They don’t look like they’re hurting for money or customers. The place was busy. What makes you think they’d want to sell, or even need investment money and partners?”
“Wishful thinking, I guess.” Renee smiled at him. “I’d love to own it, and you can afford to.”
“I can’t imagine them selling. The place just reeks of the owners’ pride. Why don’t you see who owns it now and what you can find out about their financial situation.”
“I’ll do some digging and see what I can find out,” Renee promised, and went back to her office, as Mike went to his. The project sounded like fun to Renee.