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do you have another client today?” Marvin asked, behind an eager grin.
    â€œActually, I do, my favorite one,” she answered with a gleam in her eyes. “I’m booked all afternoon with my four-year-old Danni. She’s with a sitter now and I’m sure watching the clock. What was I thinking, teaching her how to tell time?”
    â€œIt was just a thought but we’d hate to keep you from her,” Marvin said, his eyes exhibiting a glint of defeat.
    â€œIs there something you wanted to discuss? I do have a minute.”
    He tossed a smile at Chandelle, then slid both hands inside his front pockets. “It’s obvious that we need to reevaluate a few things.”
    Watching as Chandelle’s eyes flickered, Kim nodded that she fully understood. “Sure, let’s step inside a few minutes. I know exactly what you mean. Chandelle would like more house than you’ve qualified for.”
    â€œYes!” Chandelle answered for him.
    â€œIt happens all the time,” Kim admitted. “And it won’t take but a sec to run some numbers. Hopefully, our next outing will sustain that smile on Mrs. Hutchins’s face.”
    â€œ Mr. Hutchins would like that very much,” Marvin replied, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was also secretly hoping that their credit line didn’t end where Chandelle’s happiness began. What he hadn’t considered at all was his own state of mind.

4
Dooney Does It
    S aturday afternoon, Marvin showed up at Appliance World even though he was scheduled to be off. Mr. Mercer was happy to see him. The store was packed to the gills with potential shoppers who’d missed the big sale the day before. Since the newspaper mistakenly ran the same ad for a second day, he felt compelled to honor their requests and extend his cost-cutting sale throughout the evening.
    â€œDidn’t think I’d have a chance to breathe today,” Mercer told him. “Now that you’re here, I can roam around and check on things.”
    Marvin knew what that implied. It wouldn’t be long before the unscrupulous owner found another willing female who wanted something from the showroom she’d have to pay only pennies on the dollar to work out a backdoor deal. Since it was none of Marvin’s business, he decided once again to mind his own.
    â€œLem, where’s Rodney?” Marvin questioned the energetic salesman. Rodney was the weekend only part-timer who sat in an office Monday through Friday. He was a natural, thirty years old and liked the buzz he got from closing deals. Marvin often wished he was still just as enthusiastic about moving metal, one difficult customer at a time. Lem, in desperate need of a break, shook his head while searching a microwave for the serial number. “I don’t know,” he grunted, utterly dismayed. “Rodney has been displaying dishwashers all day. He’s probably sold ten of them by hisself.”
    â€œThat’s what’s up. I’ll make a sweep to see if Reeka and Thomas need a break. Knock off and take a thirty after your next sale. I’m covering today.”
    Lem seemed puzzled. “What about Mr. Mercer? He said nobody gets to leave until the showroom closes down at seven.”
    â€œDon’t worry about him. He’ll be too busy working his own magic.” Marvin knew it was against state laws to enslave employees by refusing them time for lunch. When the younger man glared at him, regarding Mr. Mercer’s overly aggressive sales tactics, Marvin changed the subject. “By the way, the serial numbers on General Electrics are always stamped on the door…right under your thumb.” Lem slowly lifted his hand, discovering what had him steaming for over five minutes. Marvin was right, but then he always was when it came to products sold in the store. He should have been promoted to manager years ago, but Mr. Mercer wasn’t about to