The glass doors of Camelot Boutique slid open with a silent chime, spilling warm light onto the darkened street.
Darren Steele stepped inside first, his hand in his pocket, his posture relaxed but his sharp blue eyes already scanning the interior like a bored king surveying a court he barely cared about.
When he was done with his survey of the place, he finally allowed Penelope to step him.
Getting his approval, she practically skipped in, her blonde ponytail bouncing with every step, her blue sundress swishing around her knees. She stopped a few paces in, hands clasped in front of her, spinning once to take it all in.
Camelot Boutique was the main area of expense when it came to men's clothes. At least in the streets of Mauravard where very wealthy people resided and some of the most important company buildings were located, including the Steele Complex.
With a rich history and richer owners, the boutique had the resources to offer their customers nothing but quality.
