A Song in the Daylight. Paullina Simons

      Finally Crystal, out of excuses (WTF?) rang Kai’s extension, and in three seconds he was at the center of the showroom beaming at her.

      He even shook her hand gently, Emily Post notwithstanding, because in front of other people it was easy to be polite. Hand out, her hand in. His was wiry and warm, hers fashionable and cool, the pink nails freshly buffed.

      “I’m interested in finding out a little bit about your sports models,” she said, mock laid-back like her hair. “Not to purchase. Just to shop around.”

      “Of course. No one comes in here ready to purchase.”

      “But Crystal here,” Larissa continued calmly, “tells me today might not be a good day for you. I can always come back.”

      “No, today is perfect,” said Kai, throwing the flustered Crystal a quizzical look. “I’ll stay as long as I need to take care of my customers, Crystal, you know that. Come.” He guided Larissa with his fanned-out hand on the back of her suede.

      He showed her two models on the floor, a sedan and a white coupe. She didn’t like either. “Is that the price tag?” she said, astonished.

      Glancing at her with a “How much did you think a Jag cost?” expression, he put on his leather jacket and out they stepped into the windy bitterness to look at the models on the lot. She found a tiny sporty thing she thought looked kinda cool, and Kai said, “Oh, sure, you would pick that one.”

      “I didn’t pick it. I don’t like the color.” It was Metallic Indigo.

      “We can either get you a discount on the color you don’t want or for full price any color you prefer straight from the factory.”

      “Discount on something I don’t want?” Larissa smiled. “Kai, you drive a hard bargain.”

      “Thanks. That’s my specialty. You can’t say no.” He grinned back. He was well groomed today, respectable with his thin black tie, his white shirt and unripped, ironed jeans. His unruly longish hair was gelled off his forehead and moussed back, neat, presentable. He looked older.

      “You’re all cleaned up,” she said.

      “The other me is my motorcycle-chic costume.” He laughed. “This is my take people’s money costume.”

      “You’re right, the shirt should be ironed for that.”

      “Even the jeans,” he said.

      She wanted to ask who ironed his jeans, but of course didn’t. Larissa walked around the car, her hand on it, to feel the lines, to touch the cold glass. Too cold. She put her gloves on. “What’s so special about this one?”

      “This is the XKR supercharged sports convertible. Our most expensive model.”

      “Really?” She studied it with slightly more interest. “What else is great about it? Can’t be the color.”

      Handing her a pair of keys, he opened the driver door. “Get in and see for yourself.”

      “I’m driving?”

      “Well, I could drive, but what would the point be? I’m not buying it.”

      “I’m not buying it either.” She got behind the wheel. Car smelled new and leathery. “What’s the interior color? It’s a nice combo.”

      “Isn’t it, though? Color of the leather is caramel. The dashboard accents are burl.”

      “Burl? What the heck kind of color is burl?” She touched the smooth pebbly leopard-looking dashboard with her fingers.

      “This color.”

      Gingerly Larissa drove out onto Main Street. She was going twenty miles an hour. “Drives nice in traffic,” she said after a silence. “Stops at red lights. Makes lefts. Signals work. It shifts from park to drive almost as if it has an automatic transmission.”

      Kai blinked at her. “You’re making fun of my sales pitch that I haven’t had a chance to make yet?”

      “I’m not making fun. It actually does do all these things. I’m not being ironic.”

      “Ironic, no. Mocking, yes.”

      “Mocking, no. Questioning, yes. As in, what’s here that’s worth somebody’s annual salary?”

      “Four hundred and twenty horsepower. Tell you what. Make a left at the college and drive till you hit the open road. Glenside Avenue runs around the Watchung Reservation on the way to Deserted Village. Let’s go see what this baby can do.”

      “It brakes beautifully.”

      “All righty now.”

      “And the seatbelts work. No, it’s excellent. Your best, you say? Clearly a superior model.”

      “Didn’t you notice how everybody on Main Street was eyeballing you?”

      “What, you think it’s the car?” Larissa chuckled. “You think they were impressed with the way a Jag sat five minutes at a red light?”

      “Maybe they were just admiring the driver. Make a left here and go straight for a mile.”

      “Oh! It goes straight so well!” They drove in unruffled silence. She resisted the urge to glance at her eyes in the rearview mirror, to catch a glimpse of herself after he said people might be eyeballing her. Also resisted the urge to comment on how noticeably straight up he was sitting, with Buddha-like tranquility, his entire back flush and composed against the seat.

      “This model has a supercharged 420 horsepower 4.2 liter engine. Do you have any idea what that means?”

      “Um—no?”

      “You can’t imagine power like this. It’s like a rocket.”

      “You want me to demonstrate its rocket-like qualities on Glenside?”

      “It’s an empty road. And clearly, until you do, you will not cease the snarky comments.”

      “Oh, no, those will continue.” Glenside, which ran in a long straight line along the edge of the protected national wildlife reservation, was deserted. No main streets ran through it, no exits to shopping areas, no gas stations, no small towns. It had the forest on the right and forest on the left. The sun was shining.

      “Not too far,” Larissa said, stepping on the gas. The car soared forward.

      “As far as you want.”

      They were gone forty minutes. Maybe forty-five.

      “So … what do you think?” He was grinning at her after she slowed down to get on the Interstate. Slowed down to get on the Interstate.

      “It’s nice,” she said noncommittally.

      “Don’t pretend. Car’s incredible,” Kai said. “Handles beautifully. Has great power.”

      She revved up, smoking a Mercedes 550SL in the right lane. “Yes.”

      “The XKR goes from 0 to 60 in 4.9 seconds.”

      The snark had gone. Rockets couldn’t be as fast as this. He was right. It was unbelievable. Like nothing she’d ever driven.

      “You might not need this much power,” said Kai, as Larissa gripped the leather-clad wheel with her leather-clad hands. “It’s more money than the regular XK. Which is also a very fine car at 300 horsepower, and it may be all the power you need. Did I mention it’s less money?”

      “Some salesman you are.” Larissa sped to eighty. Then ninety.

      “Slow down, this isn’t Glenside. You don’t want to get a ticket,” Kai said. “I know. I’ve gotten two.”

      Reluctantly