The Lingerie Salesman's Worst Nightmare -

She tilts her head. “Don’t be. I picked the coffin.”

But her — the woman who walks in at 7:55 on a Friday night, ten minutes before closing — she’s different. the lingerie salesman's worst nightmare

“I need something for my husband’s funeral,” she says, flat as a mannequin’s face. “He liked red.” She tilts her head

When she finally leaves, Derek finds a single black rose on the counter. The thorns are still wet. ” she says

“I’m… very sorry for your loss.”

His name is Derek, and he’s worked at “Velvet & Lace” for three years. He knows cup sizes at a glance, can spot a bad underwire from ten feet away, and has never once made a customer feel uncomfortable.