Her head was bowed. Dark hair fell forward near her cheek. The camera remained on the bench beside us. No one was recording. The moment did not belong to the assignment. Dani looked up. Our faces were closer than necessary.
“Other foot,” she said.
Her voice had changed. I lifted it. She repeated the process. My pulse felt inappropriate for seated footwear.
“Stand,” she said.
I did. The shoes felt comfortable. Dani pressed one finger between the heel and collar.
“Good.”
The salesperson returned.
“Try the treadmill.”
I jogged for several minutes. The shoes were noticeably better than the model I had chosen. I disliked this. Dani knew. Her smile grew as I stepped off.
“Well?”
“They are acceptable.”
“Price.”
“They are comfortable.”
“More comfortable than your spreadsheet shoes?”
“The spreadsheet did not select a shoe.”
“The spreadsheet wanted the gray ones.”
“The gray ones had strong durability.”
Dani turned on the camera.
“Amy has learned that feet are not a depreciation schedule.”
I faced the lens.
“The coral shoes provided greater immediate comfort. Long-term performance remains unknown.”
“She loves them.”
“I do not love objects.”
“Geraldine is devastated.”
Dani placed the shoes in the basket. The sponsor credit would cover most of them.
“What are we choosing for you?” I asked.
“I have everything.”
“Your hydration belt has a torn zipper and lost your keys under Geraldine.”
“Eventually found.”
I chose a lightweight replacement with secure pockets and minimal bounce. Dani objected to the price until I pointed out the sponsor credit required one item each. When she fastened it, her sweatshirt lifted and exposed a line of skin I studied the instruction card to avoid.
