CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Richard’s POV

I shook the young saleswoman's hand. Her grip was firm, her smile wide. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “This... this means a lot.”

“Just doing what’s right,” I said. “Everyone deserves respect, regardless of how they look or what you think they can afford.”

She was the kind of salesperson who knew her trade, her pitch perfect, yet not overbearing. It was clear that she was being wasted on the showroom floor. So, I decided to make her an offer she couldn't refuse.

"I must say, you've got a knack for this," I said, as we walked towards the exit, the scent of new car leather trailing behind us.

She flashed a polite smile, "Thank you, Mr...?"

"Richard. Just Richard," I replied, "And speaking of knacks, I believe you've got one that's being underutilized here."

"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

"Ever considered being a personal assistant?" I asked casually, as though I was inquiring about the weather.

She gave a small laugh, "I can't say it's ever crossed my mi
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