"Of course there are," Margaret said. "And if you had said a car was reserved and offered me another to sit in, we wouldn't be having this part of the conversation. The issue is not protecting inventory. It's that you decided I wasn't worth helping before you asked a single question."
Mr. Lang cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, the sedan wasn't mine when she asked to see it. I'd scheduled a test drive, but I hadn't signed anything or put down a deposit."
Brad stared at him. "Mr. Lang, I was trying to keep the car ready for your appointment."
"I know what you were trying to do," Mr. Lang answered. "You offered me six thousand dollars off before I even asked for it, and you refused an older woman a chair. Neither decision had anything to do with whether she could buy a car."
Margaret appreciated the man's honesty. She also noticed that his presence made it easier for some employees to admit what they had seen. A respected wealthy customer had questioned Brad before Margaret's identity became known, and that mattered. It meant the problem was not visible only after the dramatic reveal.
Dana went to her office and returned with Tyler's suspension form, which had not yet been submitted. She placed it face down on the desk. "I'm withdrawing this pending a full review. Tyler, you can return to work if you want, or take the rest of the day without losing your scheduled hours. We'll discuss whether the hour already removed needs to be corrected in payroll."
"Thank you, ma'am," Tyler said. "I'd like to finish my shift."
"You don't have to prove anything by doing that," Dana told him.
"I know. I just have a couple of cars waiting in detailing, and the next team comes in at four."
Margaret smiled. The practical answer was so like Walter that for a moment she could almost see her husband standing beside the young man. He would have liked someone who cared about leaving the next person a manageable job.
"Before you go," she said, "I'd like to ask Mr. Keller one question."
Brad looked up. His expression had become a careful mask of submission, the kind worn by people who were eager to agree with anything that might save them. Margaret knew the mask because she had seen it many times during her career. It was not the same thing as understanding.
"If I'd arrived in a limousine with my grandson and a lawyer," she asked, "would you have treated me differently?"
He hesitated. Evelyn said nothing. Dana's face was very still.
"Yes, ma'am," Brad admitted at last.
"Then the clothes were never the problem. The person wearing them wasn't the problem. Your judgment was." Margaret set her cup on the counter. "Now tell me something more difficult. Why did you stop seeing people like me as customers?"