The salesman sneered at their humble clothes and work roughened hands.
“Help you?”
His contempt was clear in his voice.
The old man studied his feet, but his wife looked into the man’s eyes.
“We want a car.”
“Secondhand stock is round back. I’ll call one of the juniors.”
He all but ran from the old couple to where a much painted blonde teetered in on skyscraper heels.
The junior was young and freckle faced and friendly.
He sold the lottery winners their first Lamborghini, while the blonde cost the salesman a very expensive dinner and a course of antibiotics.
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