A harsh voice cut across the moment. "Brooks, I said lunch belongs in the break room, not my showroom."
Brad had returned from the test drive. Mr. Lang stood a few steps behind him, reviewing something on his phone. Brad saw Tyler beside Margaret and the old photograph, and his expression hardened into disbelief that his order had not produced the result he expected.
"Didn't I take you off the clock?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir. I was on my break. The lady asked about the old ticket."
"So now you're giving historical tours? That's excellent. Maybe next you can serve tea and tell everybody the place is free." He looked toward Hank. "I said walk her out. Why is she still here?"
Hank stepped forward. "She's waiting for her grandson. I told her she could stay in the shade."
"Then you were wrong. Both of you were wrong." Brad turned to Margaret. "Ma'am, this isn't a museum. We're running a business."
"I know what kind of business this is supposed to be," she answered.
"Apparently you don't."
Tyler moved half a step closer, concerned by the way Margaret's hand trembled against the handbag strap. "Mr. Keller, could we give her some water before she goes? She's been outside in the heat."
"Brooks, hand me your badge."
The words came so abruptly that even Mr. Lang looked up. Tyler stopped moving. For a moment he seemed to think he had misheard.
"My badge, sir?"
"You're suspended until Dana reviews this. I've told you twice to follow instructions and twice you've challenged me in front of customers. I don't need people like that representing this store."
Tyler reached for his name tag. His fingers moved slowly because he knew what being suspended could mean. He had rent to help cover, a tuition payment approaching, and a mother who never told him how frightened she was when treatment left her too weak to walk from the bus stop to the apartment. Still, he did not shout or accuse anyone. He unfastened the badge and held it out.
"Understood, Mr. Keller."
Margaret stood between them. "This young man has done nothing but be kind. I asked him to help me. If you believe he made a mistake, the mistake is mine."
Brad took the badge and slipped it into his pocket. "Kindness doesn't pay commission, lady. Now move along."
The sentence was so clear that Margaret almost felt grateful for it. There would be no misunderstanding later about what he believed. He had expressed, in front of witnesses, exactly the standard by which he measured people.
She glanced at the car by the window. "Then let me buy a car today, Mr. Keller. If that's what you require before you'll treat me as a customer. I'll write the check now."
Brad laughed. "A paper check from that cardigan? This isn't nineteen seventy-four, ma'am. Cash or proof of financing, or the door."
"I can arrange payment."
"Sure you can. Everybody says that." He turned toward Mr. Lang with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for the circus, sir. We'll finish your paperwork in my office."