"Your father sounds like a wise man."
"He was."
For a moment, Arthur's expression softened.
Then he looked toward the entrance.
A black SUV had just pulled into the parking area.
His phone vibrated again.
This time, Arthur did not answer immediately.
He looked at Ryan.
"I think we should discuss the car's purchase arrangements."
Ryan's confidence returned.
"Certainly. We can start with a credit application."
Arthur shook his head.
"I won't need financing."
Ryan blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I said I won't need financing."
"Are you planning to pay in full?"
"Yes."
Ryan glanced at Emily.
Something about the situation had suddenly become more interesting.
But he still wasn't convinced.
"That's a significant purchase, sir. We normally require certain documentation before proceeding."
"Naturally."
Arthur reached into his jacket.
He removed a small leather wallet, opened it, and took out a business card.
It was simple, white, and almost entirely free of decoration.
He placed it on the nearby table.
Ryan picked it up.
He read the name.
Then he read the title.
Then he looked at Arthur.
And for the first time since the old man had entered the showroom, Ryan Mitchell stopped smiling.
Because the name printed on that little white card was one he had heard before.
Not from a customer.
Not from a stranger.
But from the company's regional director himself.
And suddenly, the black sedan was no longer the most important thing in the showroom.
The man standing beside it was.
Ryan Mitchell stared at the business card.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
The card was plain white, with a small black logo in the upper-left corner. Beneath it were three lines:
ARTHUR BENNETT
FOUNDER & CHAIRMAN
BENNETT MOBILITY GROUP
Ryan read the words again.
He knew that company.
Everyone in the luxury automobile business knew it.
Bennett Mobility Group was one of the largest privately owned automotive investment and distribution companies in the country. It owned dealerships, financed manufacturing projects, and had recently announced an expansion into several major American cities.
More importantly, Sterling Motors had been negotiating a major partnership with Bennett Mobility Group for nearly six months.
Ryan had heard his regional director mention the company's chairman repeatedly.
He had even seen photographs of the man at a corporate conference.
But those photographs were always taken years earlier.
And Ryan had never imagined that the elderly man standing in front of him could possibly be the same person.
He looked up.
"Mr. Bennett?"
Arthur nodded.
"That's what the card says."
Ryan swallowed.
"Are you... the Arthur Bennett?"
Arthur tilted his head.
"I suppose there may be other people with the same name."
Emily took the card from Ryan.
Her eyes widened.
"You're the founder of Bennett Mobility Group?"
Arthur smiled politely.
"I started the company a long time ago."
Ryan felt his stomach tighten.
"Sir, I apologize. I didn't realize..."
Arthur raised one hand.
"That's precisely the problem, isn't it?"
Ryan looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't realize who I was, so you assumed I wasn't important."
Ryan opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Arthur continued.
"I don't expect special treatment because of my position. I don't even expect people to recognize my name. But I do expect to be treated with basic courtesy."
Emily looked down.
She remembered every moment of the morning.
The questions about the service department.
The comments about the old phone.
The suggestion that Arthur might be wasting their time.
She felt ashamed that she had allowed the conversation to continue.
"Mr. Bennett," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I should have spoken up earlier."
Arthur looked at her.
"Thank you for saying that."
Ryan hurried to straighten the brochure on the table.
"Please, sir. Allow me to contact our regional director immediately. He would be honored to welcome you."
Arthur shook his head.
"There's no need."
"But the regional director—"
"I didn't come here to meet your regional director."
Arthur glanced at the black sedan.
"I came to look at a car."
Ryan nodded rapidly.
"Of course. Absolutely."
But Arthur wasn't finished.
"And now I'd like to know something."
"Anything, sir."
"How many customers have walked through these doors wearing ordinary clothes, carrying old phones, or speaking with an accent that made you think they couldn't afford what you sell?"
Ryan's face became pale.
"I couldn't say."
"That's unfortunate."
Arthur placed the business card back on the table.
"Because every person who enters this building should have the opportunity to be treated with dignity. Whether they purchase a vehicle or not."
Emily nodded.
Arthur turned toward the black sedan.
"Now, could we return to the car?"
Ryan immediately stepped forward.
"Certainly, Mr. Bennett. Would you like to see the interior?"
"Yes, please."
Ryan opened the driver's door.
Arthur leaned forward and examined the dashboard.
He touched the steering wheel, studied the instrument panel, and looked carefully at the stitching on the seats.
"Beautiful craftsmanship," he said.
"Thank you, sir," Ryan replied.
"Tell me, how long have you worked here?"
"Almost four years."
"And do you enjoy it?"
Ryan hesitated.
"I do, sir."
"Then perhaps you should remember that selling a vehicle isn't simply about convincing someone to spend money."
Arthur looked at him.
"It's about understanding what matters to the person sitting across from you."
Ryan nodded, although his thoughts were racing.
He wondered whether Arthur would report him.
He wondered whether his job was already in danger.
And most of all, he wondered why the chairman of a major automotive company had walked into their showroom dressed like an ordinary retired factory worker.
Before he could ask, Arthur's phone rang again.
This time, the name on the screen was Daniel Brooks.
Arthur answered.
"Daniel?"
"Mr. Bennett, I'm sorry to interrupt again. The board meeting has been moved forward. They're asking whether you'll be arriving."
Arthur glanced at his watch.
"I'll be there soon."
Daniel lowered his voice.
"There's another matter. The Sterling Motors acquisition team has requested confirmation of your attendance."
Arthur looked toward Ryan.
"Tell them I'll be arriving personally."
There was a brief silence.
"Personally, sir?"
"Yes."
"Understood."
Arthur ended the call.
Ryan's heart sank.
The acquisition team.
He suddenly remembered the rumors circulating around the dealership.
Sterling Motors was facing financial difficulties. Several branches had struggled with declining sales, and the company's owners had been searching for a major investor.
There had been talk of a potential takeover.
But nobody had mentioned that Arthur Bennett himself might be involved.
Ryan looked at Emily.
She had understood it too.
Arthur placed his phone in his pocket.
"Now," he said calmly, "I believe I'd like to take a test drive."
Ryan nodded.
"Of course, sir."
But before they could move, a man in an expensive navy suit entered the showroom.
He looked around, spotted Arthur, and hurried toward him.
"Mr. Bennett!"
It was Richard Collins, the regional director of Sterling Motors.
And he looked as though he had just discovered that the most important person in his professional life had been standing in his building for nearly half an hour.
Richard Collins was fifty-three years old.
He had spent twenty-five years climbing the corporate ladder, moving from dealership manager to regional director through a combination of hard work, aggressive sales strategies, and an instinct for recognizing powerful people.
He understood business.
He understood numbers.
And he understood the importance of keeping wealthy investors happy.
But as he approached Arthur Bennett, he realized he had no idea what had happened during the previous thirty minutes.
"Mr. Bennett," Richard said, extending his hand. "What an unexpected pleasure."
Arthur shook it.
"Good morning, Richard."
"I wish I had known you were visiting. We would have arranged a proper welcome."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"I prefer to see how things operate when nobody is expecting me."
Richard glanced at Ryan.
Then at Emily.
Something in their expressions made him suspicious.