Impressed by Imperium motors, Stan pushed through the glass doors, still slightly damp from the rain, and stepped into the showroom.
The interior was cathedral-quiet. Polished concrete floors. Indirect lighting that made every surface glow.
Half a dozen vehicles were arranged across the floor like sculptures in a gallery, each one elevated on a low platform, each one lit from above by a single focused spot. The air smelled faintly of leather and new rubber.
A young sales consultant in a fitted black shirt noticed him immediately and started to approach with a professional smile, then hesitated, his eyes flicking over Stan's rain-dampened jacket and slightly disheveled appearance with the particular calculation retail employees perform when deciding how much effort a customer deserves.
Stan didn't give him time to finish the assessment.
"Tell your manager that Stan Harrison is here."
