"It used to rain through the passenger window," she told Emily. "Walter fixed every other thing on that car, but he could never make the window seal properly."
"It was an unusual window," Walter protested.
"It was an ordinary window and an unusually stubborn husband."
Emily laughed. Walter looked at Eleanor with the expression of a man who still found her funny after five decades. For a minute the insult at the entrance receded behind the comfort of remembering a life they had made together. The car was still impossibly expensive, the gallery still filled with people watching them, but the Bennetts were no longer thinking about John Williams. They were thinking about roads they had traveled and the possibility of traveling a few more.
A voice from outside the vehicle cut through the moment. "Emily, can I borrow you?"
John stood a short distance away, holding a tablet against his chest. He wore the smile he used when he wanted observers to see a calm professional resolving an inconvenience. Emily asked the Bennetts to excuse her and stepped away far enough that they could not easily hear every word. John kept his voice low, but not low enough to disguise his irritation.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "You brought them back after I made it clear this wasn't going anywhere."
"They're interested in the car," Emily replied. "I'm answering their questions."
"You're wasting time that belongs to the dealership. That vehicle costs three million dollars. It's not an amusement park attraction."
"They haven't asked to take it home for free. They asked to sit inside. That's something we're supposed to offer interested visitors."
John's smile vanished. "Be careful, Emily. You're still new enough that people remember what you say when you make trouble. Arthur doesn't like employees contradicting his senior salespeople in front of customers."
"Then Arthur can speak to me himself," she said.
The answer surprised them both. Emily had never enjoyed confrontation, and her heart was beating harder than she wanted John to see. But the memory of Eleanor's face when John had said people like you was stronger than her fear of another poor performance review. John stared at her for a moment, then gave a small, disbelieving laugh.
"Fine," he said. "Enjoy your tour. Don't expect me to rescue the deal when they disappear."
He walked away. Emily let herself breathe and returned to the car. Walter was studying the dashboard while Eleanor admired the stitching on the door. Neither asked what John had said, although Eleanor could tell from the tightness of Emily's shoulders that the conversation had been unpleasant. She decided not to force the young woman to explain. The morning had already required too many explanations.
"Do you have a brochure?" Eleanor asked when she stepped out. "Something we could take home and look through together?"
"Of course." Emily found a printed presentation folder and added a handwritten card with her work number and email address. "If you think of more questions, call me directly. You don't need to go through reception. And if your family wants to arrange a quieter visit, we can do that, too."