A Gilded Invitation: Charlie Lee and the Gold Card Adventure
In Chicago, news that William Dever had boarded a plane quickly reached Charlie Lee. After hanging up the phone, Charlie rose from his chair, adjusting his coat. "Aria," he called out.
"Boss!" Aria appeared promptly, her small heels clicking against the floor. Just as she approached the desk, she nearly collided with the leg of the table. With an instinctive twist of her body, she avoided what could have been another embarrassing tumble.
"You're coming with me to the party tonight," Charlie said, his gaze resting briefly on her casual attire. "Sunil has other priorities to attend to."
Aria blinked in confusion. "The party? Um… will my graduation dress work?"
Charlie sighed audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He muttered under his breath, "What was I thinking when I kept her on the payroll?" Then, louder, he said, "No. Clearly not. Let's go. I'll take you shopping."
Sunil, his usual partner for formal events, was busy handling the end-of-season work for the think tank, leaving Charlie with no other option but to rely on his slightly scatterbrained secretary. Aria's blonde hair, tied loosely in a bun, and her quirky demeanor made her more suitable for lighthearted office banter than the dignified atmosphere of the evening's gathering.
The car ride to the upscale shopping district was quiet. As they pulled up, Charlie couldn't help but reflect on how frequently he had been making these trips lately. Four times in a single month? For someone who prided himself on being laid-back, this was bordering on excessive.
When Aria stepped out of the car, her eyes widened at the sight of the luxurious row of stores. Each one glittered with opulence, promising everything from high fashion to fine jewelry. Her astonishment grew as she realized that a single item from any of these shops could easily exceed her annual salary.
"Hurry up," Charlie said, walking briskly. Then, realizing something, he paused and reached instinctively for his wrist. His fingers found nothing. He chuckled dryly, remembering his old fake Patek Philippe watch from a former life. Shaking his head, he pulled a sleek metal card from his pocket and handed it to Aria.
"Take this. Buy yourself something appropriate. When you're done, wait for me at the coffee shop across the street," he instructed before heading into an antique shop.
Aria stood on the sidewalk, holding the metal card in her hand and shivering slightly in the chilly Chicago air.
Ding-ling~
"May I assist you, madam?" a woman's refined voice called out. The proprietor of an elegant dress boutique had appeared at the door, her gaze warm and inviting.
Before Aria could respond, she was gently ushered inside, where rows of designer dresses awaited. The proprietor began introducing the collection.
"This is from Parisian designer Chanel, and that is by Schiaparelli, known as the Venus of fashion in Paris. And this masterpiece? Crafted by none other than Master Paul, whose work is the toast of European high society," the woman said, her voice dripping with enthusiasm.
Aria's attention flickered between the glittering gowns and the metal card in her hand. What she didn't realize was the gravity of the card she held. Issued by the First National Bank of Chicago, this gold card was a rare privilege.
Such a card signified a minimum personal asset value of $5 million, and fewer than 15 individuals in Illinois owned one. Its reputation extended nationwide, where it was held by fewer than 50 people. The cardholder could spend freely at participating stores, with all purchases guaranteed by the bank—no limit, no questions asked.
To the boutique owner, this card represented an opportunity too good to pass up. She concealed her envy and smiled graciously.
"These dresses… are they all suitable?" Aria asked hesitantly, her gaze bouncing from one display to the next.
"They're perfect, madam. You can select anything you like," the proprietor said with a practiced elegance.
After a few moments of hesitation, Aria's eyes sparkled with determination. "Wrap them all up!"
The boutique owner's smile widened. Aria left the store with a triumphant bounce in her step, utterly unaware of the extravagance she had just indulged in. Her gaze shifted toward Tiffany & Co. next door, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
Meanwhile, across the street, Charlie was oblivious to Aria's spree. Inside an antique shop, he was immersed in a conversation with an elderly shopkeeper.
"This pocket watch," the shopkeeper said, holding up a timepiece with reverence, "was crafted for Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire. Made from pure silver, it features the Habsburg family emblem and a ruby centerpiece."
Charlie listened with mild amusement. While he appreciated the craftsmanship, he doubted the watch's origin story. Still, the shopkeeper's knowledge and storytelling held his attention.
"How much?" Charlie asked, cutting through the history lesson.
"Ah, sir," the shopkeeper began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "it's a steal at $20,000. A priceless piece of history at such a modest price!"
Charlie rubbed his forehead. The man's sales pitch reminded him of street vendors who peddled dubious treasures with grandiose claims.
"Fine. I'll take it," Charlie said, pulling out his checkbook.
The shopkeeper paused, momentarily stunned. "You… you will?"
"Yes," Charlie confirmed, writing the check. "But I have one condition: throw in those porcelain vases on the top shelf." He pointed toward a set of dusty, unassuming jars. "Consider them a token of goodwill."
The shopkeeper glanced at the vases and shrugged. To him, they were just old decorations. "Done," he said, eager to finalize the transaction.
Charlie pocketed the watch, suppressing a smirk. He suspected the porcelain vases were far more valuable than the shopkeeper realized.
As he left the shop, Charlie spotted Aria emerging from yet another store, her arms laden with bags and her smile uncontainable. He frowned slightly, realizing she had clearly exceeded the simple task of buying one dress.
The evening's party was still hours away, but Charlie couldn't help but wonder what sort of chaos might unfold with Aria by his side. One thing was certain: the night was bound to be memorable, though likely not in the way he had envisioned.