Excuse me? I said, "How did you get here? Walk? Somebody drop you off at the corner? She looked past him toward the parking lot and squinted.
Because I don't see anything out there that looks like it belongs to someone who can afford my cars. I drove. I'm parked right over in what? That sad little rental back there. She let out a short, sharp laugh.
Oh, honey. This isn't a free museum. We sell vehicles here, expensive ones for people who can actually pay. Oliver stayed calm. His hands stayed in his hoodie pocket.
His voice stayed level. I understand that. I'm genuinely interested in your inventory. That's all. But Brenda wasn't listening anymore.
She was performing. Her voice climbed louder. Loud enough for the two families browsing near the trucks to hear every word. Loud enough for the sales team standing behind the glass showroom doors to stop mid-conversation and stare. "You know what I think?
" she said, stepping closer. Close enough that Oliver could smell her perfume. Something sharp and floral mixed with the heat rising off the black top. I think you wandered in here because you've got nowhere else to go. I think you want to sit in a nice car, snap a little selfie for your friends, and pretend for 5 minutes that you actually belong somewhere like this.
" She tilted her head and let the words land, "But you don't, and everybody here knows it. " Oliver said nothing. His jaw tightened, but his eyes stayed steady. People like you come in here every single week, " she continued, waving her hand toward the showroom. Touching the paint with your greasy hands, smudging the windows, sitting in leather seats you will never ever pay for.
And then I have to waste my staff's time cleaning up after you. Every single time. She exhaled like she was exhausted just looking at him. Do you have any idea how tiring that is? A white couple standing near a silver truck exchanged an uncomfortable glance.
The woman grabbed her husband's arm and squeezed. They both looked at the ground. Neither said a word. A little girl in the backseat of a parked car pressed her face against the window watching. Her eyes were wide.
Inside the showroom, Janelle watched through the glass. Her stomach turned. She knew exactly what was happening. She'd seen smaller versions of this before. Brenda's voice, Brenda's posture, that very specific tone she reserved only for people who looked like Janelle, like Oliver, like anyone whose skin wasn't the right shade for Brenda's parking lot.
Janelle pushed open the glass door and stepped outside. The heat hit her face immediately. Ma'am, I can assist this gentleman if you'd like me to. Janelle. Brenda didn't even turn around.
Her voice was flat and cold. Go back inside. Restock the water cooler. Sweep the breakroom. I don't care.