Linda looked over the three vehicles lined up beneath the showroom lights.
She’d already checked the dealership’s inventory online. She knew the trims, the delivery costs, and the exact total before she’d ever stepped through the door.
“Are you refusing to help me?” she asked. Derek leaned back and folded his arms.
“I’m saving us both some time.” Linda gave one small nod. She didn’t argue.
She didn’t reach for the bank documents sitting inside her bag. She simply pulled out her phone, typed a short message, and headed toward the door.
Derek called after her, “Careful around the display cars. Fingerprints are expensive to buff out.”
The others laughed again. Linda paused with her hand on the glass door.
For half a second, Derek looked like he expected her to snap back. Instead, she turned and read the dealership’s name printed above his desk — the same dealership that had spent six months chasing the vehicle and service contract for Hayes Ridge Farms.
Then she walked out. Across town sat a smaller BMW dealership with an older sign and barely half the showroom space.
Linda had hardly stepped inside when a young salesman named Caleb Foster came over.
He noticed the dusty sandals. He also noticed she was studying the vehicles, not the price tags.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “What can I help you find?” “I need three X5s,” Linda said.
“Blue, white, and black. I need cargo protection, driver-assist packages, and delivery by next week.”
Caleb pulled out a chair for her. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” He asked where the vehicles would be driven.
He actually listened when Linda described the long roads between her farm offices and packing facilities.
He walked her through cargo dimensions, compared the safety features, and arranged a test drive without once asking whether she could afford any of it.
