Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
T he next morning, my awakening is even dreamier than the day before. I feel like a movie star, lazing in my enormous bed in my fabulous suite. God, am I living the life right now.
I smile as I think back to Cat’s reaction to it all the evening before.
‘ Wow! This place is amazing! ’ she declared, charging from room to room like an overexcited toddler.
‘I take it you’ve never been in a suite before either?’ I chuckled.
It turned out that she had never stayed in a five-star hotel full stop, and it gave me a warm glow knowing that will change when we head to paradise next week.
Throwing back the covers, I leap out of bed, my smile growing even wider when I open the curtains to find that it’s a beautiful sunny day to perfectly match my mood.
‘What is today, Emma?’ I ask myself in the full-length mirror on the wall. ‘It’s Tuesday, which means… it’s new car day! ’ I do a little dance on the spot.
After I’ve showered and been for the hotel breakfast to end all hotel breakfasts, I return to my suite to get ready for my outing. I want to look confident and credible for my test drives so I packed one of my well-worn work outfits for today: a pale green chiffon blouse and a black trouser suit, but it’s a bit overkill so I ditch the suit jacket to tone it down. My weather app is showing that it’s unseasonably warm so I should be fine like this.
My first three test drives fortunately go without a hitch and I commend myself on the swotting-up I did on Sunday afternoon. It meant I was able to talk knowledgeably with the car salespeople and avoid being taken for a metaphorical ride. Having now had three similar conversations, I’m well-versed on the process, and I’ve been offered some pretty good deals (I think so, anyway).
On my way to my final test drive – I’ve saved my first choice for last – I see the pleasant day that started out, has been replaced with a dark and gloomy sky. Huge, menacing clouds roll across the horizon and a chill breeze has picked up, which immediately cools me.
I should have known better than to trust the Scottish weather to stay pleasant.
I pick up my pace, but only make it halfway from the bus stop to the car dealership, before huge fat raindrops are pounding the ground like missiles around me. Realising that I’ve only got seconds to find cover, I scan my surroundings in desperation, but there’s no shelter nearby and the car showroom is still a couple of minutes’ walk away.
The heavens open with a torrential downpour, creating almost instantaneous rivers down the sides of the road. I make the best run for it I can in my heels, but by the time I reach the Newbridge Luxury Car Collective, I’m soaked through. I launch myself through the door, discovering too late that there’s a step, and I – and the contents of my handbag – sprawl across the floor like scattered rubbish.
Wiping my rain-soaked face with my hand, I slowly look up. Two car salesmen and a handful of customers have witnessed my grand entrance, but not a single one of them comes to my aid. I get up and start shoving things back into my handbag, and while I’m sorting myself out, I overhear a churlish remark muttered by one salesman to the other.
‘This one’s yours, mate. Get some practice in. No way she’s here to buy one of our motors today.’
Feeling stung, I watch the older of the two salesmen walk away into the staff office.
The younger man finally comes to my aid, picking up the bits and pieces that have strayed the furthest and handing them to me. To add to my humiliation, one of them is a super-plus tampon.
‘Are you OK, madam?’
‘ I’m fine .’ My response comes across more vicious than intended, causing him to back off nervously.
Standing up, I straighten my outfit and take a proper look at him. He’s younger than I first thought; probably only about nineteen or twenty, with bad skin and thick glasses. He’s also shifting from one foot to the other, clearly at a loss as to how to handle this situation, and I actually feel sorry for him – especially as it wasn’t him who made the comment.
‘Sorry for being rude.’ I give a weak smile. ‘My day was going well until that downpour. I’m Emma Blake. I have an appointment for a test drive. You’re my fourth today, in fact.’ I feel the need to prove myself a worthy customer.
‘I’m Grant. Nice to meet you, Ms Blake.’ He holds out a tentative hand and I shake it. ‘If you have your driver’s licence handy, I’ll go and check your booking.’
I hand it to him and he disappears into the office, leaving me to have a nosey around. With it being a franchise that offers a few different car makes, it’s really quite vast, with different sub-showrooms.
Wandering around, I admire the different models, which include the car I’m here to test drive – a small Mercedes hatchback – and while I’m taking a good look at it – inside and out – something catches my eye. A sporty hardtop Mercedes convertible, with stunning curves, sparkling silver paint and stylish alloy wheels. Drawn to it like a moth to a lamp, I drift across and walk around it, tracing the perfect angles of its bodywork with my finger. I bend my head inside the driver’s door and take in the pristine, beautifully styled, dark interior, all the time imagining myself taking a leisurely spin on a bright summer’s day with the top down.
‘It’s nice, isn’t it?’ Grant appears out of nowhere, the shock causing me to bang my head on the door frame.
‘ Ouch . Yes, it’s lovely. Really lovely.’ I stand up, rubbing my throbbing head.
‘You should see it with the top down, it looks even better. Anyway, we’re all set.’ He dangles a key in front of me with a lop-sided grin. ‘If you’d like to follow me, we’ll get started with the test drive.’
‘OK, sure…’ There’s something swirling in my brain that I’m finding impossible to ignore. ‘Only… I’m wondering… could I maybe test drive the convertible first?’
This isn’t part of my plan, but it’s just a bit of fun – when in Rome, as they say. I expect Grant’s eyes to light up, but it has the opposite effect.
‘Ah, right…’ His shoulders slump. ‘I’ll need to see if there’s one available, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem.’
For some reason, I’m left feeling like I’ve kicked a puppy. Having agreed to act on my request, Grant doesn’t take any action that would indicate he’s going to sort it out. Instead, he hangs by my side, pretending to polish a non-existent smear off the paintwork of the convertible.
‘Eh… Grant? Will you check that for me, then?’
He stops polishing. ‘Sorry, yes, I’ll go sort that for you.’
He skulks off, hands in his pockets, while I stare after him, wondering what’s caused this unexpected change of mood. Shrugging to myself, I turn back to the car and start admiring it again, and I don’t have to wait long to find out what’s wrong.
‘Ms Blake?’ A voice booms from behind me, giving me my second near heart attack of the day.
‘Yes?’ I turn and find myself face to face, not with Grant, but with the older salesman who made the comment when I first arrived.
‘I hear you want to test drive the convertible instead. Little beauty, isn’t she? She’s getting fantastic reviews. I’m not surprised you’re tempted.’
‘Yes… that’s correct.’ I look around for Grant.
‘Right then, follow me, and we’ll get this baby on the road. I’ll take you on some open stretches, so you can feel her purr.’ He says this last bit with such a sleazy tone that I gag a little.
‘Where’s your colleague? I thought he was going to do the test drive.’
‘He’s in the back.’ He jabs his thumb towards the office. ‘Got some admin to sort.’
‘OK, no problem… I guess.’
The salesman, in his misguided charm offensive, has neglected to introduce himself. He continues his sleazing, while I reluctantly follow him towards the showroom exit. Now dreading the test drive I was looking forward to only moments ago, I’m angry at myself for letting him take over like that. Why am I just accepting this ?
‘Come on, then. Chop chop .’ He beckons me through the door.
Although he’s making a joke of it, it’s clear he’s getting impatient. Am I really going to trot along behind him like a little dog? Like I apparently did with Dave all that time? I barely made it through the door before this man wrote me off.
He beckons me again, making me feel like a naughty pet and something inside me snaps. This is exactly the type of situation I thought I was done with since my win.
Sleazy Steve, or whatever his name is, has clearly used his authority to swoop in and steal Grant’s sale now that I’m looking at a more expensive model. And Grant obviously knew this would happen. I can make an excuse and leave, meaning he’ll think he was right about me all along and my plan for today will be scuppered, or I stand up for myself, and poor Grant.
‘Excuse me, Mr…’ I make sure he realises I don’t even know his name.
‘Oh, sorry, sweetheart. Steven Wade. Call me Steve.’
I suppress a smirk at my accuracy in guessing his name. ‘OK, Steve . I’m afraid I have a problem.’
‘Changed your mind already?’ He regards me with a bored look and checks his watch.
Feeling intimidated by his behaviour, any courage I’ve mustered deflates immediately. ‘Actually… yes… yes, I have. Apologies for wasting your time.’
Head down, I turn and start to walk away, disappointed in myself for avoiding yet another difficult interaction.
‘No problem. Figured it was a bit pricey for you.’ He tries and fails to hide a sneer.
This time he really hits a nerve. How dare he? Why on earth am I letting this misogynistic prick stop me from doing what I want to do? I’m so outraged that I become stiff with tension. He’s another bloody Dave, thinking he’s above everyone else. Well, he’s damn well not and I am so sick of men treating me like this. Nothing is going to get in the way of me ending my day with a new car.
I take a deep breath and walk back towards him. ‘Actually, no… sorry. I should have been clearer. I’ve not changed my mind about the test drive… I’ve changed my mind about doing the test drive with you .’
Sleazy Steve is shocked into silence.
‘Now… if this dealership wants a chance at making a sale from me today, as well as avoiding a complaint for sexist behaviour and blatant rudeness – yes, I heard your comment when I arrived – I suggest you go and get Grant.’
I’m shaking inside, but he doesn’t know that, so I simply fold my arms and let the silence do the work. For a second, I wonder if he’s going to back chat me again or even try sweet talking me, but instead he raises his hands in defeat and heads off towards the office without uttering a word.
Once he’s out of sight, I let my arms fall, panting a little as I take in what’s happened. I did it. I stood up for myself – and this time there was no alcohol involved. My newfound wealth is totally working for me. I allow myself an inner high five.
Moments later, Grant comes bounding out of the office, his lop-sided grin back firmly where it should be. He leads me to a covered area outside where a Mercedes convertible, pretty much identical to the one inside, is sitting with its roof retracted. Its silver metallic paint shimmers in the sunshine – which has thankfully made a reappearance. I open the door and slide into the driver’s seat, where the solid feel of the steering wheel and the coolness of the dark grey leather upholstery send an excited shiver through me. I run my fingers along the dashboard, then down towards the automatic gear selector, circling the various buttons as I go. I can already imagine what it would be like to experience this luxury every day.
Grant jumps in beside me, and after giving me a slightly hesitant tour of the controls – which was more like us figuring things out together – we’re on the road, top down, with me behind the wheel. It’s even better than I imagined. I already feel at one with the car, the drive being smooth and effortless.
‘So, Grant…’ I manoeuvre my way onto a long stretch of tree-lined country road, enjoying the roar of the engine and the pull of the car as I hit the accelerator. ‘What’s the deal with you and Steve?’
‘What do you mean?’ Grant appears thrown by the directness of my question.
‘You know exactly what I mean. If I hadn’t made it clear I didn’t want to do the test drive with him, you’d have missed out on this sales opportunity. Does he do that to you all the time?’
‘Um… no. He’s… good to learn from. He’s my boss. That’s just how things go.’
‘It might be how they go, Grant, but it’s not how they should go. I respect that you’re trying to be diplomatic, with me being a customer and all, but I’ve seen enough to know that you’re being treated unfairly.’
Grant says nothing, but I sense my observations have hit the mark.
‘I know it’s none of my business,’ I continue, unable to let this go. ‘And I won’t pry any more, but I will say one thing. Until recently, I was in a similar situation to you—’
‘No way.’ He eyes me sceptically.
‘I was, honestly. I was lucky enough to find an easy route out of it, but it’s made me realise a few things. People like Steve and my old boss are bullies, and they’re not nearly as tough as they make out. The minute I faced up to my own boss – and believe me that was not easy for me – she backed right off. Don’t do anything that will get you in trouble. But do believe in your potential, and don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself.’
‘Won’t that make things worse?’
I shake my head. ‘I really doubt it, Grant. As long as you don’t go too far with it. Politely hold your own with Steve, and I bet he’ll respect you, even if he doesn’t like you. Respect goes a long way.’
‘Gosh, thanks, Ms Blake.’ Grant gives me a toothy grin. ‘I’ve never really thought about it that way. I’ll give it a try.’
‘Good for you. It’s Emma, by the way. And if what I’m suggesting doesn’t work, a left hook to the gut works wonders.’
We both laugh, and I’m pleased to see him loosening up. I cross my fingers that things will go better for him in the future.
‘How much does one of these cost, then?’ I move the conversation back to business.
‘It depends. There’s a quite a difference between the starting price and the top of the range model. I can talk you through all that when we get back.’
‘Sure, sounds good.’
Cruising through the countryside, I’m so lost in the experience that I fail to notice the darkening sky. Unfortunately, Grant also misses this, and before we know it, we’re caught in another torrential downpour.
I squeal as the torpedo-like raindrops pelt my face.
‘ Oh, heck! ’ I can hear Grant panicking over the thundering rain, frantically searching for the controls to put the roof up, but he’s taking too long and we’re getting soaked.
‘ What are you doing? ’ I shriek. I’m trying desperately to peer through the windscreen, but it’s almost impossible to see anything, even with the wipers on full. I can’t even see a safe opportunity to pull over, so I have no choice but to tail the blurry lights of the car in front of me.
‘I can’t… I don’t know how to put the roof up.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ I stare at him in disbelief. ‘Well, you need to figure it out… now .’
‘ Oh no, oh no. ’ His panic rises further while he scrabbles around the controls. It’s clear that all sensible problem-solving logic needed for this situation has evaporated.
‘ Grant! For goodness sake. Will you do something .’
We’re both now soaked through, as is the interior of the car. Grant looks around him wildly, eyes wide like a hunted deer, then he spots something, turns and grabs it from the back seat.
Seconds later, the rain is no longer pummelling me, allowing me to focus fully on the road. I exhale with relief, then glance across at Grant and do a double take. He’s holding a huge, bright red golf umbrella over our heads. He offers me a sheepish smile, causing me to burst out laughing.
‘I suppose I have to give you points for effort – and creativity.’ I slap the steering wheel in amusement.
Eventually the worst of rain subsides, and as the visibility improves, I realise how ridiculous we look. A few pedestrians point and laugh, even shout things at us, as we pass through a small village, but I really don’t care. Grant has made my day with his ineptness and I find myself feeling quite protective of him. He obviously hasn’t been trained properly, which isn’t his fault.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Let’s stop and figure this out. ’
I pull into a layby and we use the manual from the glove compartment to work out how to put the roof up. With the hilarity of the moment having passed, Grant is overflowing with apologies, no doubt beside himself with worry about his job.
‘Hey , come on,’ I attempt to soothe him. ‘This isn’t the end of the world. The interior will dry.’
‘I know it will… but when Steve finds out how useless I am, he’ll fire me for sure. How can he not? I’ve never been allowed to do a test drive in one of these before… that’s why I didn’t know how to do it.’
‘Well, there you go. That’s a good enough excuse.’
‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ he says, the brief carefree moment having well and truly passed. ‘Steve’s got it in for me. He’ll use this to his advantage.’
Taking in his forlorn expression, and sincerely hoping this will not spell the end of Grant’s job – not least because I would feel part responsible for if he did get fired – I suddenly have an idea.
‘Maybe not… Maybe nobody needs to know. Listen to me very carefully…’