“Yes, I’m sure. I’d like to buy a car, Dean. Are you able to handle the paperwork for me? Otherwise, I’m happy to go to Anchorage and purchase it there.”
He whistled. “Honey, they don’t call me the Car King for nothing.”
I’d never heard anyone call him the Car King, nor did I care what they called him. He had a Bronco that I wanted, and I hoped we could do this painlessly, but he’d already proved that wasn’t going to be possible.
He’d talked about himself ever since I’d arrived. When I said that I liked the tan interior in the Bronco, he suggested that I should take a look inside his sports car and see the red leather interior.
I’d declined the offer and inquired about the snow tires on the Bronco.
He’d then offered to take me to his house to see his garage full of snow tires.
I’d declined the offer.
Again.
The man was working my ever-loving nerves.
“So let’s go over what you’re going to give me for the trade-in and negotiate the price of the Bronco, yeah?” I asked.
He chuckled and nodded. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”
“Great.”I also know what I don’t want, asshole.
We spent the next thirty minutes going over the price and the financing, and it was painful, but we agreed on everything, and he had one of his employees draft up the contract. He reached down in his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Is this guy for real?
With a wink, he took a wine opener from the top drawer and opened the bottle.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“I’m celebrating with you. You’re a woman who knows what she wants, right? And I’m a man who knows what I want. Don’t be afraid, Violet. You can trust me.”
I intertwined my fingers and rested my elbows on the desk across from him as he poured two glasses of wine and set one in front of me.
“What exactly would I be afraid of?” I asked. “And I won’t be joining you for that drink because I’ve got a half day of work left.”
“All work and no play makes Violet a dull girl.”
My. Blood. Is. Boiling.
“I assure you, no one has ever called me dull. But I’m curious, Dean. Do you harass all of your customers who purchase cars?”
“Nah, just the pretty ones.” Loud laughter bellowed from his mouth, and it took everything I had not to dive over the desk and throat punch him.
“I see. So, you’re not hiding the fact that you’re a chauvinistic pig then?”
“Hey, you don’t need to do all that. I know your secret. You’ve got all this pent-up frustration because you’ve never allowed yourself to feel good.”
Okay. I was definitely going over this desk and kicking his ass if he took this any further.
“Are we talking about cars, Dean? I’m a straight shooter, so how about you just tell me what the hell you’re talking about, and then we can get the keys to the Bronco and I can get out of here.”
“Darlin’, you give such mixed signals with that mouth of yours,” he said, and I had to close my eyes and count to ten because this guy was actually doubling down on this.
“How many sexual harassment lawsuits have you dealt with over the years?” I crossed my arms over my chest and met his gaze.
He took a long sip of his wine before swirling it around and staring at it. It took everything in me not to inform him that he was doing it backward, as you normally swirled the wine before you sampled it, but the man was too clueless to waste my breath on.
