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“I’m so sorry, Youngja, and tell me if this is overstepping, but can I pray over it with you?” Joshua asks, lifting his hands up in offering. “I find that it really helps. A car is a lot of money, we want to make sure it’s a good fit. Trust me, I understand.”
Over her head, Joshua glances at Wonwoo, gritting his teeth and gripping his pencil so tight it looks like it’s about to snap. Joshua smirks at him. Winks. He hears the sound of wood cracking just as he closes his eyes to drum up some sort of spirituality.
Sales is a game. It’s a logic puzzle, and it’s probably going to send him to hell— but he’s good at it. No one can dispute that. Certainly not Wonwoo.
(OR: Wonwoo and Joshua are rival car salesmen.)
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Bookmark Notes:
compitetor wonshua