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“I can’t do that,” he said, already chiming in with a cliché.
“How about this, have your men check them out. See if they meet your standards, then we’ll talk.”
I didn’t really have time for this. I was already getting antsy. We’d wasted hours.
“Fine. Martin!” he shouted toward the girl at the desk. She nodded and pressed a button.
A man in blue coveralls came out.
“Martin, can you check out these vehicles for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Martin answered.
Twenty minutes later and Martin returned with a thumbs up, saving Bridge and me from ridiculous small talk with the car salesman. “SLS needs some realigning, but other than that they’re perfection.”
“My office?” Jeff asked.
I nodded and followed him back before sitting before him.
“And you have the titles?” he asked.
“In my pocket.”
“Why do you want to sell?” he asked.
“Unnecessary,” I answered. “Are you interested or not?”
“I’ll take them for one.”
“Not in a million years,” I challenged, sliding deeper into my chair, my right hand casually resting on the side of my face. “I’ve offered one-point-two. It’s more than fair. They’re in almost perfect condition, and their commercial resale is close to one-point-seven. You know it. I know it. But if you feel like you need to win here, how about we meet in the middle?”
“I’m listening,” he said.
Fifteen minutes later, Bridge and I walked out the sliding front door and stood, another check next to the one I already had, and our bags at our feet.
“Where to?” she asked.
“We walk,” I said pointing to a dealership half a mile south, “to that truck dealership.”
“I can’t walk that far carrying these bags. I’ll stay here and you can come get me when you’re done,” she said.
“I’ll carry the bags,” I said.
“You can’t carry all these bags, Spence. I’ll stay.”
“You don’t understand. When Dad finds out we sold the cars, he’s going to ask around and these guys won’t forget buying two luxury sports cars in one day, especially when they see what the guy who sold them to them picked you up in. You have to come.”
“Fine,” she pouted.
I gathered as many bags as possible and pushed on toward the dealership.
“I can’t believe you can carry all that shit. You’re not even breaking a sweat,” Bridge commented halfway there. “I can’t even keep up.”
“Yeah, well, I have to do this kind of training for rowing at school. Upper body strength is number one for that team.”
“Damn, that must suck.”
“Tell me about it,” I laughed, spearing her with a look.
