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CHAPTER HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO

RICHARD'S POV

Brenda’s laughter echoed through the dealership, bouncing off the gleaming hoods of cars I could apparently never afford. " ‘Richard the Beggar’, buying a car here? Honey, you must be lost. The used car lot is two blocks down."

"Funny, Brenda," I said, my voice flat. "Last time I checked, I wasn't asking for a handout. I'm here to buy, not beg."

"Oh, I'm sure you are, sweetie," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "But let's be realistic, those clunkers with the 'For Sale' signs taped to the windows? Those are more your speed."

"Brenda, you seem to have forgotten that people grow up. And some of us even become successful," I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Maybe stop judging a book by its dusty old cover?"

"Successful?" she scoffed. "You? Please. What are you now, Richard, Assistant Regional Manager of Paperclip Sales? Look, I've got real customers to deal with. So, how about you take your faded jeans and your empty wallet and..."

"Empty wallet?
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