Run to Love (Triple R Book 1)

by Dixon,Jules

  My first appointment arrived. After I introduced myself, the middle-aged man went into a partially sexist diatribe about how a female car salesperson was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of. Well, next to women in the military, of course.

  Of course…

  Considering we’d handled all of his information and appointment details by e-mail and my name was kind of gender neutral. Not really though. I almost didn’t blame him for not knowing, but another part of me needed to prove to him that he was simply wrong.

  On my worst day, I do this job better than any man.

  I walked him back to my office, made small talk, and then focused on business, asking the right questions, keeping eye contact, following up quickly, offering suggestions. By the time we were both out of inquiry, I’d made a valid argument that I was the woman for the job.

  The buzz-cut grey-haired man leaned back in his chair. “So are we gonna continue to shoot the shit like we’re old Army pals, or are you going to let me drive that hunk of metal outside?”

  I escorted him outside to the Ford F-150 he requested by e-mail. He rounded the vehicle, entered and drove at what could only be called a Sunday/Grandpa pace, but I enjoyed his safe and fuel-efficient approach to automobile ownership. By the end of the drive we’d talked about his six grandkids and their numerous activities, from soccer and baseball to dance and music. They were why he needed more room than his single-cab Ford Ranger offered. He helped his two daughters to transport the grandkids around. One of the girls’ husbands passed away last year from cancer, and he helped out where he could. Tears filled my eyes and I gave him my condolences. He sighed, relaying how hard it was to see his beautiful girl’s heart still broken in two. It was times like this that regardless of whether they bought or not, I had a part in something I could be proud of.

  Upon returning to the dealership, he spotted Charlie and beelined to him.

  And here it goes. Somehow I messed this one up. Great.

  “Charlie Johnson, you SOB! Why didn’t you tell me you had a secret weapon at the dealership? I would have prepared myself for her assault. It was on level with the captain’s bitch and berate that time after we almost flipped the Humvee at A.T.” They hugged as two old friends.

  “Gus Sheffield! Jesus, it’s been forever. Presley’s on track to be our best salesperson.”

  “Well, I can see why. I’m gonna need to call my daughter. Her eighteen-year-old son, you remember Ryker, right?”

  Charlie nodded.

  Gus wrapped an arm around Charlie, and they both stared at me. “Well, he’s been looking for a dependable car and I’m sure he’d love to take a test-drive with that sweetheart in the seat next to him.”

  “Now, Gus, don’t be lettin’ your grandson make any moves on my favorite salesperson.”

  And oh … my … God!

  Best feeling ever. The two of them continued fussing it up Grandpa-style over me. Gus ended up buying the truck, and Charlie took care of the details so they could catch up.

  One down, four to go to beat Drexel Mason. If, and that was a huge if, he hadn’t sold any today. Thinking of Dixless … where is he?

  “Hey Jillian, where’s Mason?”

  “Called in sick. I guess he figured he had the month sewn up. Prez, you have to do this. Kick his ass, sister! We all need that asshole to be brought down a notch and seeing your picture on the ‘Shrine to Dixless’ would be so awesome.”

  “Jillian, keep it on the down-low with the nickname, please.”

  She cringed. “Sorry. I just got all excited. Plus, Presley, I guarantee not another woman here isn’t thinking the same thing.”

  “Okay, here’s what I need you to do. I have to stay hydrated, so keep bottled water on my desk, please. Let me know if Dixless shows up, and if for some reason he calls in to talk to Charlie or Trent, please take a message or stall him the best you can. I imagine he’ll try to sabotage me somehow. Okay, my next test-drive should be coming in.”

  “Will do all. Good luck!” She raised jazz-hands. “We’re rooting for you!”

  Drexel is out sick? This is the best thing to happen. Well, not for him but for me. I’m down only four to surpass him. I can do this. I think.

  The next client, Alice Evans, test-drove and I could tell she hated, and I mean absolutely hated to the point of tears, the bare-bones new car she picked out online. The wiry tall woman needed something to fit her leggy and thin frame, not an undersized car.

  I guided her to my office and explained the benefits of having an SUV, especially a four-wheel drive SUV, in the winter. Alice lowered her voice to let me know that her ex-husband messed up her credit, and she would have to pay cash. I asked how much she had, and she whispered $10,000 like it was a small amount of money. I could totally work with that. We found her the perfect SUV in the used lot. She fell in love with the handling, the upgraded interior, the heated seats, and the remote start for chilly winters. Now I just had to get the dealership’s sales manager, Trent, to come down from $12,500 to her $10,000 budget. A challenge but not impossible.

  After getting Alice a cup of coffee, I headed to Trent’s office.

  “Hey, Trent, have a minute?”

  “Yeah. Whatcha got?” He moved paperwork to the side.

  “Have a client who wants to buy that silver Nissan Pathfinder that’s been sitting on the lot for almost a year…”

  “Yeah?” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Willing to offer ten grand cash for it.” I waited.

  Sometimes it wasn’t what you said but how you said it. And other times it was knowing when to stop saying anything at all.

  He tipped his eyes up to the ceiling, bouncing in his seat, clucking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. When he returned to a speaking human and not a chicken, he threw up a general wave of his hand. “All right, it’s end of the month and I was going to send it to auction next month anyway. We’d get half that much there. Make the deal.”

  I practically ran back to Alice, and together we jumped up and down at the news.

  Slightly unprofessional? Sure. But she was so thrilled I couldn’t help it. I handed her a box of tissues when the moment overtook her.

  “I really needed this, Presley. I got a new job yesterday and I knew my old POS car wasn’t going to make it much longer. You saved me.”

  “Crap! Hand me one of those tissues, Alice.” I half laughed and half cried. “I’m so glad I could help you.”

  I escorted her to the business office to finish paperwork and take ownership of her new used vehicle. I made sure the detail center shined the interior and exterior to almost brand-new, taking an extra hour to complete the transformation. When Alice finished with the red tape, I walked her to the detailed vehicle with a box of tissues ready to go with her on the road. Through tears she told me she would be back later with her teenaged son to pick up what would be his POS car from now. He’d be thrilled, too.

  My last scheduled appointment of the day arrived after lunch. I met him at the front desk and we walked outside to the Porsche 911 Carrera S that he requested. It was an absolutely amazing car. And absolutely expensive, too. He rounded the car. Once, twice, three times. Never opened a door, never stepped foot inside, never asked a single question. I prepared myself to start exalting its better features when he interrupted my internal salesperson.

  “Okay, I’ll take it. My boss will be happy to have what he wanted for the weekend. Where’s the sales or business office? I’ll take care of the paperwork myself.”

  “I’m glad you like the car, Mr. Sullivan. I’d be glad to present your offer to the sales manager, Mr. Woods.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Bradenhurst, I should’ve been clear. My offer is the sticker price, and I want to be gone as soon possible. I have three other important errands to finish for Mr. Buffett before the shareholders’ meeting.”

  Holy crap! I didn’t know if he meant the Warren Buffett, but even if he didn’t mean the Oracle of Omaha, it was probably some relative. And even
if it wasn’t … it was a sale! I decided to let Trent handle this one. Especially since Mr. Sullivan was offering sticker and probably cash on a $100,000+ vehicle, without driving it.

  “No problem. Let me check that Mr. Woods is available.”

  I offered him a seat in the waiting area and a bottle of water and walked to Trent’s office.

  I stuck my head around the corner. “Trent?”

  “No, Presley, we can’t go lower on the Pathfinder for your new BFF.” His gaze stayed down and concentrated on his pile of papers.

  “No, Trent, there is a representative here for a Mr. Buffett who wants to buy the Porsche 911 Carrera S. His name is Skyler Sullivan. He’d like to get the paperwork done ASAP so he can finish his list of to-dos for Mr. Buffett.”

  Trent sat up straight. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope, that’s what he says. Are you ready to work with him? I did my job. He wants to buy it sticker price right now.”

  Trent took over, introduced himself, and made like a kiss-ass. Mr. Sullivan thanked me and we shook hands. I left the room for fear of being sucked into the giant vortex of swirling crap gushing from Trent’s piehole.

  Yes! That was three down.

  While I had a minute, I walked to the copy room and made some copies. By three p.m., I’d called every possible lead I’d ever spoken with and there were no loose ends to speak of. They’d either bought elsewhere, put buying on hold, or basically told me to F-off. I watched the clock on my computer click down. Slowly. The digits hit four p.m., and when my phone rang I jumped like my grandma at a fireworks show.

  “Good afternoon, Presley Bradenhurst.”

  “Prez, it’s Jillian,” she whispered. “You need to go outside now, there’s a guy milling around the lot. I’ve never seen him before. He might be new. But he might not.”

  I didn’t even say thank you or good-bye. I threw the phone down, grabbed my jacket, and ran for the door. Outside, I watched Sam rounding the corner of the building, eyeing up the visitor.

  “Hello, again!” I yelled and waved at the guy looking in the SUV’s driver’s side window.

  The thin man stepped back from the vehicle. “Presley?”

  My heels ground to a halt on the concrete. How does he know my name?

  I took the last twenty steps and … my prayers had been answered. Mr. Miller. The neighbor I grew up next to and my high school math teacher. He stood next to a new, gray SUV.

  “Hello, Mr. Miller. It’s so nice to see you!”

  The man tugged me in for a hug. Sam backed away with a scowl, acquiescing to the fact that a personal relationship already existed.

  I cut to the chase. “Mr. Miller, have you been in contact with any other salesperson here at Jessen?”

  “No, just stopped by to check out the new Explorers. Beth has been on me to trade up for a year.”

  “Well, you’ve picked a winner right here.”

  Mr. Miller took a step back and glanced me up and down. “Presley Bradenhurst, now, it hasn’t gotten past me that you look different. I hope you’re feeling well.”

  “Yes, Mr. Miller, I’ve been exercising and eating right.”

  “Well, you were always adorable, but dear, you’re a beautiful young woman now.”

  A warm gushy feeling rode through my body at his sincere words. “Thank you. Hope all is well with Mrs. Miller?”

  “She’s got her bowling and mahjong. As long as she makes it to see her friends, we’re very good and I’m not in the doghouse.”

  I chuckled. “So are you interested in a test-drive?”

  “No, no. I really just wanted to sticker surf while Beth gets her hair done. You know, see the mix of metal, leather, and plastic up close.”

  “Well, just to let you know, the incentives on these models are great, but … they end today.”

  “Like how great?”

  Hook, line, and sinker.

  My fourth sale of the day. I ended up tied with Dixless for the month. That was a whole lot better than first loser, but not what I’d really fought for. I was exhausted by the time I grabbed my purse and proceeded to the front door after five o’clock.

  “And just where do you think you’re going, Miss Bradenhurst?” I heard behind me as I clicked my heels across the floor.

  I spun. “Mr. Sheffield? Hello … again. I hope that truck is working out for you.”

  “That truck is perfect. My wife’s driving it right now. I foresee having to get her one soon.”

  “Good to hear. Mr. Sheffield, is there something else I can help you with?”

  “Actually, there is. Ryker! Grandson, come here and meet your salesperson.”

  A young man strolled over to us, and we shook hands. Gus introduced us formally, but I asked them to call me by my first name.

  “Presley, I want to buy my grandson his first car,” Gus said with a smile.

  My eyes started to cloud with tears.

  I’m actually going to do it. I’m going to beat Drexel Mason.

  I cleared my throat and collected my thoughts. “Okay, let me set these things down in my office and I’ll be right back.” By the time I made it to my office, the shock had worn off. I awkwardly high-fived myself and giggled my way back to the front.

  It took two hours to find the right car, but we did, and Ryker couldn’t have been more thrilled. A used late-model Mazda 3, silver, manual, and sporty. He looked like he was going to break out in some sort of teenage jig in celebration.

  When the deal was done, Charlie met me on the showroom floor to say good-bye to them.

  After they’d left, I turned to him. “Did you have something to do with that?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “No, Presley, that was all you. Gus was thoroughly impressed … with you. To see Ryker all grown up was great. He’s so proud of that young man and since he’s now the male figure in Ryker’s life, he takes that role seriously. Presley, you did it! I’m sure Drexel will have a shit-fit tomorrow, but you deserve it. Can’t wait to put your smile up there on the Wall of Monthly Best.”

  I pursed my lips, then I told Charlie thank you, and that I needed to get to an appointment. I was completely overwhelmed by the events of the day and partially exhausted to the bone. I gave the evening phone staff high-fives before leaving, and Charlie chuckled.

  I got to my car and took a deep breath before pulling out my phone.

  Prez: U up for Chinese?

  Willow: Are you trying to get out of paying the twenty dollar-holy-shit-tariff by charming me with food?

  I laughed. Forgot about that.

  Willow spent the night out with friends. She didn’t come home until really, really late—or early, depending on one’s view.

  Prez: No, I’ll get you the $20, too. Kung Pao Chix and crab rangoon okay?

  Willow: Perfect!

  After calling in the to-go order at Golden Dragon and picking it up, I drove into the garage of the townhouse while I blasted my favorite Foo Fighters CD.

  Willow greeted me with a beer and ‘I’m-absolutely-not-going-anywhere’ clothes.

  “Okay, you have a shit-eatin’ grin on your face, Presley. What’s up?” she asked, plopping onto the couch and opening the brown paper bag to remove its delicious contents.

  I sat on the couch. “I did it. I finally beat Dixless. I will be the top salesperson this month.”

  “Congratulations, Prez! I knew you could do it.” Willow tackled me into a big hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I sat back and reveled in the feeling. Success and happiness. There was only one thing missing, someone special—other than Willow—to share the moment with. Willow was great, and I appreciated her support, but I wanted someone to fill the other voids in my life. I shook my head. Didn’t need to find that tonight. Tonight is about celebrating.

  I drank a long swig of Willow’s favorite lemon-infused craft beer and set the brown bottle on the coffee table to start eating what Willow had dished out onto a plate.

  After devouring a crispy crab
rangoon, Willow wiped her mouth. “Why don’t we go out tomorrow night to celebrate? Bring Jace along?”

  “I haven’t seen her in forever.” I downed the rest of my beer as the meal seared my palate with the spice of chilies. “Maybe do a little West O barhopping?”

  “I love it!”

  While Willow looked over my shoulder, I texted Jace.

  Prez: Hey Sexy! Girls’ Night Out tomorrow with W? You in?

  Willow and I watched some Friends reruns until we were quoting lines along with the characters. We both decided an early night wouldn’t be a bad thing for either of us. The current activity was pointless if we’d seen every episode to the point of memorization. Plus, we both admitted to being worn out, me from the day’s events and Willow from getting no sleep the night before.

  In bed, I grabbed the latest romance book I was reading from the nightstand. My phone buzzed.

  Jace: I am in! Broke up with Taylor on Monday. :-( Could use a Girls’ Night Out with my BFFs and a random forget-about-my-troubles hookup. I’m off at 4 tomorrow, so I can Happy Hour if anyone else can

  Prez: Sorry about Taylor. :-( You will find the right person, totally believe that … pinkie swear. Glad you can join us!

  Jace: Are we celebrating or just going out?

  Prez: Celebrating! I’m going to be Salesperson of the Month! I’m off at 5, but I’ll let Willow know you could meet her, she’s off at 2 or 3, I think.

  Jace: Congrats sweetie! You definitely deserve it. Dixless can suck donkey-dix! Luv u!

  Prez: Love you too! <3 TTYL

  I met Jaclyn (Jace for short) Zelensky at the University of Nebraska here in Omaha. We were in several business classes together. She accepted a job as a project manager for Wattier & Buchman, an advertising, public relations, and marketing company. Jace loved her bosses. They were a couple that epitomized true love according to Jace. I think they kind of made her jealous. I didn’t blame her. Listening to her talk about them, I was kind of jealous, too. She deserved someone special to spend her life with. Jace’s last partner, Taylor, was nice, but didn’t understand Jace’s professional drive.