"Because I had already established that she isn't a qualified purchaser," Croft said. "Peter, do your job and stop encouraging this circus."
William had remained deliberately unnamed. He wanted to understand not just what one rude man had said, but how the people around that man would respond when nobody appeared to be important enough to save. He had seen organizations celebrate customer service in advertising while tolerating behavior that made the advertising meaningless, and the tension in Peter's shoulders told him this scene was not entirely unfamiliar.
"Is there a written policy that requires people to show you a bank statement before you answer a question about a car?" William asked.
"We reserve the right to qualify our buyers," Croft answered. "The details are none of your business."
"Is there a written rule?"
"I am the manager. I set the rules on this floor."
"Then I think someone should review those rules." William reached for his phone.
Croft's expression became contemptuous again. "Go ahead. Call your lawyer. Call a television station. Call whoever you want. I'm not going to be bullied into showing a six-figure sports car to someone who can't afford it."
William scrolled through a contact list and pressed a name. The person answered quickly enough to make Croft's smile flicker for the first time. "Mr. Sterling," William said. "I'm at the gallery. Can you come down to the main showroom immediately?"
A pause followed. Then William glanced at Christina and continued, "No, there's nothing wrong with the investment paperwork. There's something wrong with how a customer has been treated. I think you need to hear it directly."
He ended the call and put the phone into his pocket. Croft gave a short, exaggerated clap. "Bravo. Very convincing. Did you rehearse that?"
"I didn't call him to impress you," William said. "I called because he deserves to know what's happening in his own business."
"Do you really expect me to believe you know Mr. Sterling personally?"
"You can ask him."
Peter's attention had sharpened when William used the words investment paperwork. He had attended one leadership meeting in which the gallery's majority capital partner had been mentioned, although the man had joined remotely and Peter had not met him. He began to examine William more carefully, not because it suddenly became wrong to insult a wealthy visitor, but because a problem that had seemed containable was expanding toward senior management.
"Richard," Peter said quietly, "we should move this conversation into a private office until Mr. Sterling arrives."
"No," Anna said at once. "The comments were made here in front of everyone. There is no reason the woman who was humiliated should be taken out of sight to make the rest of us comfortable."
Christina touched Anna's arm. "I appreciate you, dear. But I would like a chair. I've been standing longer than I intended."
Darius brought one from the waiting area before anybody could give him permission. He placed it near the blue car, brought a bottle of cold water, and asked if she needed anything else. Christina thanked him by name after reading his security badge. The small courtesy made his throat tighten unexpectedly.