“Sticker price is $2,375. My boss might be willing to dicker some, but not a lot. Car like this is considered top of the line and there’s not much wiggle room, as we like to say.”

Kathy checked Violet’s expression, hoping she’d realize how far out of line she was. Violet kept her eyes on Winston, who seemed somewhat distracted by the gap that appeared at the neck of her dress, which was cut low to begin with. She said, “I’d want to take it for a test drive.”

“Well, sure. We can arrange that.”

She extended her hand out the window, palm up. “You have the keys?”

“No, not on me. They’d be in the office… in there,” he said, gesturing unnecessarily.

“Well, Winston, you’ll have to go and get them. You think you can manage that?” Her tone was silky and flirtatious even though what she said seemed insulting to Kathy’s ear.

“Unfortunately, my boss has gone to lunch, and I’m the only one on the lot.”

“And?”

“And, you know, I can’t just take off, because he left me in charge.”

“If I’m not mistaken, there’s a mechanic on the premises. Two of them, in fact. What’s that one’s name? Floyd, isn’t it?”

Both Kathy and Winston checked the service bay where Floyd could be seen, servicing a used car that had just come in. Mr. Padgett had been talking about a trade-in but then decided he’d hold off until fall when the new ‘54 models arrived. In the meantime, he’d said he’d just as soon have the cash in hand, so he’d sold it outright.

Winston seem relieved, as though Violet had given him the perfect out. “Mrs. Sullivan, Floyd can’t work the floor. He wouldn’t know what to do any more than I could go back in the service bay and do his job for him.”

“Why do I need you? All I’m going to do is drive around the block. Don’t you trust me?”

Winston’s Adam’s apple dipped. “I do. It’s not that. I just think it’d be better to wait until my boss gets back so you can talk to him. He knows this car inside and out, far better than I do. Besides, if it comes to that, he’s the one who handles all the paperwork, so it only makes sense.”

“Paperwork?”

“You know, down payment, terms-stuff like that. You’d have to have your husband come in and sign.”

Violet was amused. “Why? Foley doesn’t have a dime. I intend to pay cash.”

“Outright?”

“Do you know how much money I have? I’m not supposed to tell, but I know I can count on your discretion,” she said, lowering her voice.

“You shouldn’t be telling me anything personal, Mrs. Sullivan. You should talk to Mr. Cramer about your finances.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Winston laughed, unnerved. “Seriously?”

“Of course. Why would I joke about a thing like that?”

“What’d you do, rob a bank?”

“It was an insurance settlement. I wanted more, but that’s what the company offered me right off the bat. My lawyer said take it, so that’s what I did. The two were probably in cahoots. I’ve never even told Foley the full amount. He’d be on me in a flash and squander every dime. See this?” Violet pointed to the bruise on her chin. “One day Foley’s going to push me too far and that’s it. I’ll be gone. The money’s my ticket out.” She held out her hand. “Now. May I have the keys?”

Kathy watched Winston struggle with the request. She knew he wasn’t much for confrontation, especially with a woman like Violet. On the other hand, she knew her dad had given him explicit instructions: No test drive without a salesman. No leaving the floor unattended.

“What’s your commission on a sale like this?” Violet asked, as though the sale was a foregone conclusion.

“Somewhere in the neighborhood of four percent.”

“Enough to cover your tuition and books for the next two years, or am I wrong about that?”

“That seems about right,” he said.

Even Kathy was transfixed by the notion of all that money coming to him.

“So do you want the sale or not?”

Winston glanced at his watch. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mrs. Sullivan. Mr. Cramer’s due back any minute now…”

“Oh for Christ’s sake! Give me the keys and let’s get on with it. I’m just taking it around the block.”

Kathy closed the file drawer, rolling her eyes in disgust. Pushiness was unbecoming in a woman-everyone knew that-but blasphemy was inexcusable. She returned to her desk and took a seat. The woman was insane. There was no way Winston was going to let her drive away in that car. Without so much as a dollar changing hands? Very funny. Ha ha. Kathy picked up a stack of papers and tamped them against the desk, then opened and closed a drawer, pretending to be absorbed in her work.