Fletcher Cain, ma'am. And you said the problem is the relay cluster? Yes, ma'am. The ECU firmware is sending conflicting signals to the hybrid relay. The system can't sync because the controller protocols don't match.
It's a software mismatch, not a hardware failure. Eleanor tilted her head. How do you know that? I heard it. The relay whine.
It's a known symptom. Pagani published a service bulletin about it in 2019. Chad shifted uncomfortably behind the glass partition. He knew about that bulletin. He had read it.
He had missed the connection. Eleanor turned back to Victoria. Let him try. Victoria's face went white. Absolutely not.
I will not let some random person off the street touch a $2.4 million that is my car, Eleanor said. The temperature in the room dropped 10°. My car. My money. My decision.
And right now the only person in this building who has offered me an actual diagnosis, not an excuse, is this young man standing in front of me. Victoria swallowed. Her eyes darted to Dale, to Chad, to the customers watching from the lounge. Everyone was watching. Two people had their phones out.
If he damages it, Victoria started. Then I'll cover the cost, Eleanor said. Every penny. But if he fixes it, Victoria, you and I are going to have a very different conversation. The threat hung in the air like a guillotine waiting to drop.
Victoria's mind was racing. She could refuse. She had every legal right to refuse. This was her dealership, her property, her rules. But Eleanor Ashford represented $12 million in service contracts, four of the rarest cars on the planet, a direct line to every collector, manufacturer, and automotive journalist in the northern hemisphere.
Saying no to Eleanor meant losing everything. Saying yes meant admitting a kid from South Side Chicago might know more than her entire operation. Victoria looked at Fletcher. He didn't look away. He didn't flinch.
He stood there with oil under his fingernails and $20 in his pocket and absolutely no doubt in his eyes. She hated that look. She hated it because it reminded her of something she hadn't seen in her own technicians in 3 weeks. Certainty. Fine.
Victoria's voice was acid. Let him touch the car. But when he fails, and he will fail, I want him arrested for trespassing and I want it on camera. She pointed at Dale. Film everything.
Dale pulled out his phone. Victoria turned to Fletcher stepping so close he could smell her perfume. You have 10 minutes, she whispered. Not a second more. And when you break something, because you will, I'm going to personally make sure you never set foot in a real shop for the rest of your pathetic little life.