Lack Luster
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favs and follows.
Chapter 3
The rain had slowed to a nasty cold drizzle in Midtown Manhattan. Due to the poor weather and visibility there were a limited number of pedestrians strolling past Bradley Jenkins' coin establishment on 44th street, just off 6th Avenue.
'Elite Coin', known for its sleek black and silver interior, boasted a glittering array of precious coins on display, amid glass showcases and white shelves lining all three walls. Placement and arrangement of freestanding glass cabinets, on hardwood floors, combined with stunning crystal lamp motifs, provided an elegant atmosphere sure to delight the customers entering the premises.
There was even a seating area in the back offering the weary shopper a place to sit, relax and consume beverages. A fine selection of luxury tea and coffees were artfully arranged to entice participation. The store strived to emphasize an environment that made you feel comfortable and welcome. It certainly was not your usual mundane coin shop.
Quickly stepping through the glass storefront doors, Peter was more interested in getting out of the inclement weather than admiring Jenkins' ostentatious display of merchandise. Obviously, the scoundrel had plenty of money and didn't mind liberally spreading it around the three establishments he owned. 'Elite Coin' was his primary retail business, but Jenkins owned two additional coin shops in the state of New York.
"Very impressive, Peter." Neal stated. Carefully eyeing the inventory and décor, his enthusiasm shone through his gestures and in his eyes and face.
Peter momentarily stopped wrestling with his umbrella, blown inside out by the outside gale, and turned to face his consultant.
"Whoa there. Is this an adrenalized vigor prompted by the manifestations of wealth and retribution? Neal, you look like an eight-year-old stepping into the neighborhood penny candy store."
'Penny candy?' Neal repeated, silently mouthing the words. Eyes blinking, a roguish grin flickered across his face. "No wonder you don't ever fill the staff office candy dish. I thought you were just . . . "
Raising his eyebrows, Peter's fixed his eyes on Neal.
". . . frugal."
"I have too contributed to the office candy dish."
This time Neal raised his eyebrows.
"I'll admit it's not as often as some people's contributions but I don't feel comfortable promoting unhealthy eating and obesity."
"So says Mr. Sugar-O's," relied Neal, shaking out his exorbitantly-priced, personally engraved, British Brigg umbrella, inadvertently flinging water droplets on his handler.
Peter swept his hand over his brow, wiping off moisture.
"Have you ever thought about purchasing an umbrella you don't have to insure with loss protection insurance?"
"Nope. Some of the world's finest umbrellas come from Great Britain. This design and craftsmanship is impeccable. I told you Peter that no self-respecting gentlemen would─"
"Oh good," whispered Peter to himself as he spied the store clerk quickly advancing on them.
"May I help you, gentlemen?" asked a skinny middle-aged man, dressed in finest New York business suit attire.
No denim and diamonds garb here, thought Peter. Jenkins must insist his clerks emulate his success.
"You have a fine inventory," noted Neal, strolling among the display cabinets, stopping at one right under the sign extolling the business as an Authorized Dealer of Numismatic Guaranty Corporation and Professional Coin Grading Service.
"Thank you," answered the clerk, rushing to follow the richly dressed gentleman, leaving Peter, in close pursuit, a few steps behind him.
"We strive to meet our customer's needs. My name is Elliot and I'm here to answer any of your questions."
"Talk about an expensive hobby," muttered Peter.
"Hobby? Hobby, sir?" Elliot sputtered. "We cater to dealers, educated collectors, and investors. Our collection includes world and U.S. coins, silver and gold coins, Wheat Pennies, copper and double die pennies, sets of rare coin series, collectible paper money . . . What exactly are your interests?"
Peter couldn't resist. "My dad loved taking me to stamp and baseball card shows. We'd cover the room searching the vendor's tables hoping to 'score' some really great finds."
Neal smiled at Peter's jab, and took pity on the salesclerk.
"Do you offer competitive pricing for Gold Krugerrands?" Neal asked casually, as Peter's eyes narrowed.
The agent cast him a quick questioning look.
"Ah." Elliot nodded, lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Every Krugerrand gold bullion coin is truly a work of art; minted to exacting standards by the South African Mint. We would be delighted to discuss your collection."
Neal directed his smile toward Peter.
"Elliot." A voice interrupted. "I'll handle this."
Mr. Bradley Jenkins, a tall, broad shouldered, well-built man in his mid-forties, stepped up to the front of the display case. Wearing a tailored to perfection gray Armani suit and dress shirt with Gucci silk tie, the coin dealer seemed to exude confidence.
"I've had the extreme displeasure of meeting these men before."