He asked Ivan, “You have a two o’clock meeting with Roman? Well, how come you didn’t say so? I would have gone ahead and gotten him for you.”

“I wanted to check out the cars first. I’m still a little early,” Ivan told him. “Besides, you were showing me great courtesy.”

“Well, that’s my job,” the older salesman stated. “Courtesy is a lost art of good service these days. Well, let me go get Roman for you. And it’s, ah, Ivan, right?”

“Yeah, Ivan David.”

The older salesman walked back over to shake his hand. “I’m Frank McMichaels. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same here, Frank. But let me sit in this thing for a few minutes while I wait.”

“Be my guest.” Frank went ahead and opened the car door for him. “By the way, this one is a limited edition.”

Ivan sat inside the driver’s seat and felt heaven come down to earth. Damn, this is plush, he told himself. The Bentley felt more like a private jet cockpit than a car. Ivan was waiting for the wings to shoot out from the sides so he could fly it.

“Enjoy. I’ll be right back with the boss,” Frank told him.

“Take your time,” Ivan responded.

The old salesman chuckled and walked off.

Ivan relaxed inside the luxurious two-door coupe and wondered aloud, “How much of a setback would this be?”

Based on the Bentley brand name alone, he estimated two hundred thousand and change. Adding in a car note payment for four years would put me somewhere in the range of…five thousand a month, he calculated. But I could pay this whole thing off in one year and have it over with. Then again, I could buy it through the company and make it a business expense. Bigger business needs bigger props for marketing purposes, he reasoned.

“Is this the one you like, Ivan?” the boss’s booming voice rang into his ears from the passenger-side door.

Roman Zemeckis climbed inside the passenger seat, dressed as impeccably as he had been when Ivan first met him at the network party. He wore great-smelling cologne as well.

Ivan even commented on it. “I want to learn how to dress like you when I hire a professional tailor one day,” he joked.

Roman laughed and said, “Your style of dress fits you, though, Ivan. You’re the middleman between the customers and the owners. So you want to be able to squeeze somewhere in between. And you do that well. But come on upstairs, Ivan. Let me show you my office.”

Ivan climbed out of the Bentley to follow the boss toward the stairs at the back.

Roman told him in a lowered tone, “I can give you the limited GT for two-forty at my own discount.”