Once was coincidence, twice was a customer. Genevieve turned around again and saw the waving hand. "Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm here. Um. Sorry, what was it you wanted?" She was stumbling over her words, all in a fluster as she raced to the counter, wet rag still dangling from her hand. Herself, she came up barely higher than the cash register and had to stand on her toes to get a good look at the woman in front of her. (She was even tinier than Genevieve. Like a little doll.)