The customer listened to the last few words and hesitated beside his daughter. "Richard, is there a problem?" he asked.
"Just sorting out a misunderstanding," Croft said cheerfully. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Lena will bring you into the lounge."
The man's eyes moved toward Christina. He seemed ready to speak, then allowed his daughter to lead him away. He would later say he regretted that moment more than anything he had watched on the showroom floor. But regret, like silence, only becomes useful when it changes what a person does next.
Christina stepped around the front of the blue car to look at the driver's side. Her hand moved toward the air above the door handle, then stopped without touching it. She wanted to see whether the interior was the same warm brown leather shown in the online photographs. She had imagined William sitting there, turning the steering wheel gently, saying, with the astonished voice he used to save for childhood Christmas mornings, "Grandma, you didn't."
"Don't touch that," Croft barked. "These cars cost more than you'll earn in a lifetime."
Christina let her hand fall. The movement was small, but Anna saw her flinch and felt an anger that surprised her with its depth. Croft had crossed from bad service into something personally cruel, and he appeared to enjoy the public dimension of it. Anna turned to him and spoke clearly enough that the security guard at the entrance looked up from his desk.
"You are humiliating an elderly woman in front of your employees," she said. "Stop."
Croft looked around and realized the room was watching him. Instead of feeling embarrassed, he felt challenged. He had built a career out of never yielding control once he believed somebody was testing him, and by then he had convinced himself that Anna and Christina had come together specifically to expose weakness in the gallery's standards.
"Mind your own business," he said. "Unless you're planning to buy that car, stop pretending you're her savior."
"She doesn't need a savior. She needs a salesperson with basic manners."
"My staff will not be ordered around by customers."
"Your staff haven't been allowed to do their jobs," Anna replied. "That young man offered to answer her question and you sent him away."
Croft's face darkened. "One more word and I'll have both of you escorted out."
"Then you'll have to explain why," Anna said. "Because I intend to remember exactly what you say."
Christina looked toward the glass doors. She could leave now and take the same money to another showroom, somewhere a person might greet her with a smile. She owed Croft nothing, and she knew that her grandson would be horrified to learn she had endured all this for his sake. But she also knew that walking out silently would leave the young receptionist, the nervous salesman, and whoever arrived after her alone with the certainty that Croft could do as he pleased.