Tyler went back inside to hand in his name tag.

I followed him in. I wanted to say one more thing.

Brent was still standing by the champagne. He looked like he'd been hit by one of my vans. “Mr. Callahan,” he said quietly. “That was a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“I know, Brent.”

“My commission. I've already… I put a deposit on a…”

He stopped.

“On Saturday,” I said, “you looked at my shirt and decided I was worth nothing. You didn't ask my name. You didn't ask what I needed. If you'd treated me the way Tyler did, you'd be standing here with the biggest sale of your life.”

I looked around the showroom.

“You didn't lose this deal today,” I said. “You lost it on Saturday. You just didn't know it yet.” Then I walked over to the door, where Ray the security guard was standing.

“Ray,” I said, “thanks for not following me around on Saturday.”

Ray grinned.

“My father was a mail carrier for thirty-five years, Mr. Callahan,” he said. “He wore shorts and a sweaty shirt every day of his life. He was the best man I ever knew.”

I shook his hand.

Then I walked out over the red carpet, past the balloons, into the sun.