“Ciao, Signorina. May I help you?”
“Yes, please. I need earrings.”
“What kind?”
“Scarlet ruby.”
“Of course.” She smiles, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. “Let’s go to the reserved area. These pieces are more refined and cannot be displayed to the general clientele. Mrs. Luce Scarlatto will assist you.”
I’m surprised by the woman’s name—it means scarlet light.
Where is Elinor dragging me into?
“Luce, the young lady would like scarlet ruby earrings.”
“I know who you are. Come with me, my dear.” The woman is elderly, probably a little over sixty-five. She leads me to a booth that looks more like a fitting room, which makes no sense for jewelry.
The mirror is actually a concealed door, leading to another workshop after we go down some stairs. There, she has tools to expertly an
