Cece/Juliette - Complete
Afternoons were busy, and Juliette had offered to take this one on. Her training schedule was lighter in the middle of the week, and she had the added benefit of knowing at least something about the product they were supposed to be selling.
Not that most of the customers seemed to want advice, but just in case. In her very limited capacity as de facto leader of this small band of ill-equipped sales clerks, she wanted to do the best she could.
One of the other girls was fussing in the storeroom, the extraordinarily odd man who did the books was overseeing her, and Juliette had the front of the store to herself, discounting Fifi, but then, it was very hard to recall Fifi until she raised her little canine voice -- which she did now, just as the bell over the door jangled. Juliette looked up, the greeting dying on her lips as she recognized the young woman who had just walked in. She cleared her throat audibly before trying again, her voice slightly wary: “Good afternoon. May I… help you?”
It wasn’t that Cecilia had a lot of money - far from it - but she was the type of person who easily spent what little she had, on whatever whims seemed to carry her. At the moment, food was on her mind. Not the sad meals she had been feeding herself since arriving in Emillion, but flavorful food. Food that she was not, regrettably, having because she hadn’t thought to buy spices the first time she had gone out shopping. But she still had her schedule mostly open when she wasn’t studying. To be honest, she hadn’t yet done much of that since her arrival. There was just too much to do.
She recognized Juliette immediately, though her face was slow to react. Her smile stretched like molasses dripped. Slow but easy. “Oh, hello,” she said, immediately giving Juliette her full attention. As if she had come specifically to see her, rather than the peruse the shop’s wares. “Do you work here? I didn’t know you worked at the spice shop.” She didn’t know much of anything about Juliette, really, but that didn’t stop Cecilia from treating her in that vaguely familiar fashion she treated everyone.
“I didn’t,” Juliette said. “That is, I don’t, usually.” There was no harm in admitting it, surely (and there was, perhaps, a bit of discomfort still over doing such menial work, though she was trying to curb the urge to explain her situation to all and sundry). “Today, however, I can attempt to assist you,” she finally corrected, offering a small, polite smile of her own. After all, this was her responsibility this afternoon. “Are you searching for something in particular?”
She couldn’t help hoping that whatever the young woman was looking for, it could be found in the front of the shop. A repeat of the palace gardens seemed unlikely, but it was in her nature to worry about things before they happened.
Cecilia’s bland smile did not budge from her face while she listened to Juliette. “Oh, am I?” she asked, as if Juliette might know the answer to her question better than Cecilia herself. She placed a finger on her chin, tapping thoughtfully, and turned in a slow half-circle to glance around the shop. “Spices for food,” she said after a moment, not facing Juliette. “Do you know which ones would be good?”
Are you or aren’t you? Juliette was beginning to recall that their conversation in the gardens had been like this, too -- as if they were speaking different languages. She came around the counter, gesturing to Fifi to stay quiet (it didn’t work), thinking of how best to answer the question. “That depends on what you are cooking, I suspect.” At least here she had some knowledge which she could bring to bear. “This wall is arranged by food type,” she said, gesturing to the left, “this one by region,” to the right. “Baking and mulling spices are along the back wall.” And that, she knew, was rather a lot. “Is there something in particular you are thinking to make?”