Chapter 2 - The Man Who Refused to LeaveFor three seconds after the card snapped, nobody moved.
Then Lauren Beck took one step forward.
“Derek, what have you done?”
Her voice broke the silence.
Derek glanced at the damaged card, then forced a laugh.
“Relax. The guy brought a fake card into a luxury dealership.”
Ethan watched him carefully.
“You didn't verify it.”
Derek raised his chin.
“I don't need a machine to recognize a scam.”
“Then what exactly made you decide it was counterfeit?”
Derek opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Ethan continued.
“Was it the account information? The security features? Or my shoes?”
Maisie looked away.
Miranda crossed her arms.
“Oh, please. You know exactly what this looks like.”
Ethan turned toward her.
“What does it look like, Miranda?”
She hesitated.
For the first time since recognizing him, she seemed uncomfortable being asked to explain herself.
“You walk in here dressed like that, throw some black card around, and expect people to believe you're buying a half-million-dollar car.”
Ethan looked down at his coat.
The cuffs were worn.
One button had been replaced with a slightly darker one.
His father had sewn it on during the last winter of his life.
He touched it briefly.
Then looked back at Miranda.
“You always did believe clothes told you everything about a person.”
Her face tightened.
“You weren't exactly proving me wrong when we were together.”
Derek stepped between them.
“Enough. Get out before I call security.”
“Please do,” Ethan replied.
Derek blinked.
Ethan took out his phone.
“While you're doing that, I'd like the name of the legal business operating this dealership and the contact information for its owner.”
Derek laughed.
“You think a complaint is going to scare me?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Making sure there's a record.”
Ethan photographed the two pieces of his card while Derek still held them.
He also photographed the counter, the time displayed on his phone, and the nearby camera mounted above the showroom floor.
Then he asked Derek to place the fragments down.
Lauren moved toward the counter.
“Derek, please. Just give him the pieces.”
Derek stared at her.
“Stay out of this.”
She stopped.
Ethan noticed.
He knew that expression.
He had seen it on people who depended on a job they couldn't afford to lose.
Derek dropped the fragments onto the counter.
Ethan collected them.
Then he contacted the card issuer through the number already saved in his phone.
He identified himself, explained that his physical card had been deliberately damaged, and requested that it be deactivated and replaced.
The representative began the necessary verification.
Ethan answered quietly.
Derek watched him.
Miranda rolled her eyes.
“He's putting on a show.”
Ethan ignored her.
When the call ended, he placed the fragments into a small envelope Lauren provided.
“Thank you,” he told her.
Lauren nodded.
She looked ashamed.
Ethan turned toward Derek.
“I'm still interested in the Ferrari.”
Derek stared.
“You can't be serious.”
“Very.”
“That car costs almost five hundred thousand dollars.”
“I saw the price.”
“We don't accept a card like that for the full purchase anyway.”
“I wasn't expecting you to. A verified bank transfer would be more appropriate.”
Derek hesitated.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that Ethan knew how a high-value vehicle purchase actually worked.
But he recovered quickly.
“Then show me the money.”
Ethan looked toward the red car.
“First, I'd like to review the service history, ownership records, and any inspection documentation.”
Derek's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Ethan saw it.
“What inspection documentation?”
“The documents supporting the vehicle's condition and advertised history.”
Derek glanced toward Lauren.
She lowered her eyes.
That reaction interested Ethan more than the insults.
“The car's certified,” Derek said.
“Certified by whom?”
“Our specialists.”
“Names?”
Derek's jaw tightened.
“I'm not giving internal personnel information to someone who walks in here making demands.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“Then I won't make an offer until someone authorized to provide the records speaks with me.”
Derek pointed toward the entrance.
“There's the door.”
Ethan turned.
He could have argued.
Could have shown Derek financial statements.
Could have pulled up a business article with his photograph.
But none of that would answer the question he'd come to ask.
And he wasn't interested in buying respect with proof of wealth.
As he walked toward the door, Miranda spoke.
“Some things never change, Ethan.”
He stopped.
Then looked back.
“You're right.”
She frowned.
He continued.
“You still think the worst thing a person can be is poor.”
For a moment, her face changed.
Something like embarrassment passed across it.
Then Derek put his arm around her waist.
Ethan walked outside.
The autumn air was cool.
He stood beside his old dark-blue pickup truck and looked back through the glass.
The Ferrari gleamed beneath the lights.
Ethan took out his phone.
He opened a photograph saved in a folder labeled Dad.
It showed an older man in blue mechanic's overalls standing beside a red Ferrari.
The man was Samuel Cole.
Ethan's father.
The photograph had been taken three years earlier.
On the back of the original print, Samuel had written six numbers.
614209.
Ethan enlarged the image.
Then looked through the showroom window once more.
May you like
The car was still there.
And the people inside had no idea why he had come.
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