A Sharp Command on Polished Marble
The salesman extended his right arm, pointing an index finger straight toward the glass entrance doors.
His tailored blue suit remained spotless under the showroom lights as he took three rapid strides forward.
Before him stood an elderly man dressed in a faded canvas jacket riddled with tears across the collar and shoulder.
The older visitor clutched an aged brown leather folio firmly against his midsection with both hands.
The salesman barked an order to clear out, insisting the building was reserved only for serious patrons.
The older man held his footing, replying plainly that his intention was to purchase an automobile.
A loud scoff echoed off the polished floorboards before the suited employee reached out and snatched the leather portfolio away.
Pages Kept Hidden
The salesman pulled the binder open with an aggressive flick of his wrist.
Inside rested vintage documents, certified papers, and yellowed black-and-white photographs.
The younger man sneered across the showroom floor, throwing his head back in open laughter at the sight of the worn contents.
He demanded an explanation, waving the papers in the visitor’s face as if displaying worthless scraps.
The older man took his portfolio back, tucking it securely beneath his elbow without raising his voice.
Footsteps clicked across the tiles from behind the row of sports cars.
A senior manager approached the entryway, his eyes widening as soon as he spotted the man in the torn coat.
A Sudden Confrontation
The manager stepped directly between the two men, calling the visitor by his family surname.
The suited employee asked how the two could possibly be acquainted.
The manager spun around, leveling a steady gaze right into the junior salesman’s face.
He stated plainly that the visitor was the very man who built the entire automotive operation from the ground up.
The salesman’s mouth dropped wide open, his chest sinking inward as his hands fell limp at his sides.
The founder opened the binder once more, revealing an archival photograph of the original manufacturing plant alongside the original corporation charter.
He pointed at the aged paper, noting that assumptions had been made long before any greeting was exchanged.
The manager pointed a single finger toward the doorway, dismissing the suited employee from his position on the spot.
Standing in the Center
The manager turned on his heel and walked into the office corridor.
The dismissed salesman stood immobilized near the glass partition, clutching his necktie with both hands.
The founder settled his hands into his pockets, standing completely upright beside the dark grille of a brand-new black SUV on the showroom floor.
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