MARION
The showroom smelled like leather, new upholstery, and money. I stood with my car dealer, a man who had made more from me in commissions than he probably deserved, but loyalty was something I valued.
“So, the Mercedes A-Class. This is A35. Fully loaded,” he said, tapping the glossy hood. “Olive, sleek, AMG styling. Seventy-five thousand, give or take with customization.”
“Good. Do the paperwork,” I said, already pulling out my black titanium card. “I want it delivered tomorrow morning. And Stephen will come by to oversee the details.”
“Of course,” the dealer said, scribbling notes. “Anything else?”
“Yes. I want the backseat loaded with gifts. Hermes purses. Dior. Chanel. Maybe a little Valentino just to make her smile. My assistant would help with that. Go heavy on the packagin
