Jessica felt heat rise in her face. She was accustomed to Brad redirecting her in private, where he could later claim he had only been clarifying assignments. Being corrected in front of customers was different. She looked at Kesha and saw no amusement in her expression, only the attentive gaze of a person who had just witnessed something worth remembering.
"Thank you for offering," Kesha said. "I would appreciate the specifications if they're available."
Jessica opened her mouth to answer, but Brad waved her off. "She's not a serious customer," he said. "We're not pulling half the inventory database for somebody who wandered in off the street."
The words were so careless that the elderly couple standing beside a C-Class sedan looked up together. The husband had been asking a salesperson about seat comfort because his wife's knees made getting out of low cars difficult. They had heard enough to recognize a customer being publicly shamed. The wife tightened her grip on her handbag and whispered that she was ready to leave.
At the back of the showroom, Tom Rodriguez emerged from a meeting room with a folder beneath his arm. He was the general manager, a man who had spent twenty-three years in automobile retail and had the trained expression of someone forever smoothing problems before they reached owners or executives. He had heard Brad's voice from the hallway. He also saw that Jessica was standing motionless with one hand on a tablet, the expression on her face more alarming than any raised voice.
"Is there a problem?" Tom asked.
"Nothing serious," Brad replied immediately. "I'm explaining our customer qualification procedures."
Tom looked at the woman in the hoodie. Her clipboard was held against her chest, and she did not appear to be asking for anything unreasonable. He should have asked her what had happened. He should have checked the policy and instructed Brad to step away if he was violating it. Instead he asked a different question, the one that had shaped too many of his decisions: "Is this affecting the other customers?"
"It seems to be," Kesha said. "Though not because I asked about a car."
Tom heard the answer as a warning, but his first instinct was still to limit disruption. He took a step closer and gave her the welcoming smile he used at charity events. "I'm sure we can sort this out," he said. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable reviewing our online catalog before scheduling a proper appointment."
"Is an appointment required to ask about an automobile on the showroom floor?"
"Not always," Tom admitted.
"Then why is it being suggested now?"
He did not answer immediately. He was aware of Brad watching him, Jessica watching Brad, and a young woman holding up a phone near the SUV display. For one uncomfortable second he understood that he had been offered a chance to stop something wrong, and that he was wasting it by attempting to make the problem quieter instead of making the service fair.
Kesha checked her watch. "I have ten minutes until my next obligation. I would like a supervised test drive if one can be arranged according to your posted requirements."