“Pick whatever you want,” he said.
She walked around inspecting the inventory. One was the wrong color. Another had dents. They were used cars after all. Then she saw it.
“I want this one!”
He walked to the back of the car and quickly removed the plate, replacing it with one he had pulled out of his shirt. He moved to the driver’s door, popped the lock with a slim jim and hotwired the ignition in a flash.
Sliding into the passenger seat, he said, “It’s all yours, Honey. Happy Birthday, Emma!”