Anita’s face changed as if someone had poured cold water on her head.
Daisy stood still, watching the couple, her hands folded politely in front of her.
The old woman turned to Daisy.
“Help us package gifts worth 2 million,” she said.
Daisy’s eyes widened slightly, but her face stayed calm.
She didn’t scream.
She didn’t jump.
She just nodded the way a true professional would.
“Yes, Ma,” Daisy said.
“I can do that.
” Anita let out a short laugh.
Too quick, too fake.
2 million? She scoffed.
“Have you ever even seen that kind of money in your life?” The old man didn’t answer her.
Instead, he reached into his worn clothes and brought out something small and smooth.
A bank card, plain looking, nothing flashy.
But the way he held it, there was no hesitation in his fingers.
He placed it on the counter.
Daisy picked it up carefully and passed it to the cashier to process.
The POS machine beeped once, then twice.
For a moment, Anita’s eyes shone with hope.
She was waiting for the embarrassing part, waiting for declined, but the POS machine made another sound.
Approved.
The cashier froze.
Then she looked up slowly and said almost in disbelief, “Payment successful.
” The boutique went silent in the strangest way.
It was like everybody’s breath had been stolen.
Annie’s lips trembled.
One staff member’s eyes darted away in shame.
And Anita.
Anita’s face hardened.
Her pride didn’t let her look shocked, but her eyes betrayed her.
She looked like someone who had just been slapped without warning.
Daisy didn’t gloat.
She didn’t look at Anita.
She focused on the job.
She began to package the items neatly, each gift wrapped clean, each box placed carefully in a branded bag.
She moved with patience, making sure the old couple got the kind of service that rich people enjoyed everyday without thinking.
When she was done, she handed the bags to the old woman with both hands.
“Auntie,” Daisy said.
“If you’re not satisfied within 7 days, you can return anything.
No questions asked.
” The old woman stared at her.
“You’re very kind,” she said, and her voice sounded full, like she was holding back something.
Daisy smiled politely.
“It’s my job, Ma.
” “No,” the old woman insisted.
“This is more than job.
” She held the bags closer, then leaned in a little, her eyes shining with affection.
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.
Daisy blinked.
“Ma.
” The old woman smiled wider now, like a woman who had already decided something in her heart.
“My nephew is 30,” she said.
“Very handsome, still single.
” Daisy’s cheeks warmed slightly, not from pride, more from discomfort.
Ma, Daisy said gently.
Your family is too well off for someone like me.
The old woman waved her hand like Daisy was saying nonsense.
Too well off for you? She repeated.
Who told you that? Daisy tried to smile, but it came out small.
