Walter met his gaze. "You were aware that something had happened?"
Arthur hesitated. "An employee reported a difficult interaction. I didn't review it as quickly as I should have."
"Then there's a question to answer before we discuss any cars," Walter replied. "What do you usually do when a customer has been treated badly?"
It was a simple question and one that Arthur could not answer with an attractive brochure. He had a written complaint process, a customer service escalation chart, and staff training records. But the honest answer was that he usually relied on experienced employees to handle things quietly and discouraged problems that might interrupt business. He looked at Michael, hoping for an easier opening, but Michael had stepped back slightly and allowed his father to speak.
"We can talk through that," Arthur said. "Would you prefer my office?"
Eleanor looked across the showroom. John was watching them, his face unnaturally pale. Emily stood near a desk at the far end, a presentation folder in her hands, apparently trying to understand why the couple had returned with two rare automobiles and a well-known CEO. Eleanor raised her hand to Emily. The young woman looked surprised, then smiled in recognition.
"First," Eleanor said, "I'd like to say hello to the person who made us feel welcome yesterday. Her name is Emily Torres."
Michael nodded. "That's important to us. Mr. Bell, would you ask her to join us?"
Arthur motioned for Emily. She crossed the marble floor with a professional calm that concealed her astonishment. She recognized the Bennetts immediately and greeted them by name before looking toward Michael. Walter noticed this and felt a small warmth at the center of an otherwise difficult morning. Emily remembered them for themselves. She had no idea who the man beside them was until he introduced himself.
"I'm Michael Bennett," he said. "Thank you for taking care of my parents yesterday."
Emily glanced at Eleanor. "I'm glad they came back inside. They had good questions about the car."
Michael smiled. "My father has good questions about nearly everything. He's made a career of it."
Walter gave him a look. "And you made a career of asking other people to answer them."
They laughed, and for a brief second the gallery felt like an ordinary place where a family had arrived to discuss a purchase. John watched from several yards away, unable to decide whether approaching would make matters better or immeasurably worse. Habit eventually took over. He straightened his shoulders, arranged his face into a welcoming expression, and walked toward Michael.
"Mr. Bennett," he said, extending a hand. "John Williams, senior sales associate. It's an honor to have you here. If there's anything I can show you, I'd be delighted."
Michael looked at the offered hand, then at his parents. He did not take it immediately. "Mr. Williams," he said, "were you working yesterday morning?"
"Of course. I'm here most days." John's smile strained at the edges. "I oversee our most specialized client experiences."
"Then you may remember my parents coming into the showroom."
John swallowed. "There was a misunderstanding with a couple of visitors. I believe it was resolved."