They ordered another round of drinks and kept waiting. By 12:45, Gordon was pacing between the lounge and the entrance. He tried calling once more. Nothing.

By 1:30, the employees were exchanging uneasy looks — other private clients wanted the lounge, and more than thirty thousand dollars of unpaid merchandise was occupying valuable space near the checkout.

Still, Gordon and Rita refused to leave. Too much pride was invested in the performance. Walking away would mean admitting they’d never had the wealth they were pretending to have.

Shortly before 2:45, the boutique manager stepped out of his office with a tablet and, keeping a courteous smile, approached their seating area. “Mr. Carter, we’ll need to complete this purchase now.”

“My wife is on her way,” Gordon answered.

“You’ve been telling us that for several hours.”