Sold As Is

by Holley Trent

  Mike hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his slacks and smiled broadly. “She has to go to Hooters with me.”

  “For the wings, right? Isn’t that the lie everyone tells?”

  Mike shook his head. “Nope. I’d make her go just to see her blush.”

  A woman with a mouth like that was capable of blushing? Aaron couldn’t believe it. Must have been some backstory missing.

  “She worked there for about six months in college until she found a gig that didn’t require wearing short-shorts.”

  “Ah. Well, what does she get if you don’t catch her?”

  “She couldn’t come up with anything. I think deep down inside she knows she’s going to lose this one. She’s got a mouth like a Scottish pirate, and probably the temper of one, too.”

  “Jesus.”

  They both watched as water from the overfilled pail sloshed onto her navy polka-dotted pumps. She paused to pull her shoes off by the heels, and Aaron fixed his stare onto her tanned thighs as her skirt rode up in the back.

  I wonder if it’s natural or a fake bake like Elly gets.

  Real or not, his little sister didn’t have thighs like that. Elly was a waif. Mandy had the kind of thighs he’d seen on women who rode horses, and the longer he stared, the longer he wondered if maybe she did like to ride. He blew out a breath and jammed his pen back into his pocket.

  “Yeah, after fifteen years I’ve gotten used to it.”

  “Mm hmm.” What were we talking about? Cars or something? Get it together, man.

  She was making it damned hard for him. As she pulled of her second heel, the slit in her skirt rode up to where her underwear should have started. Aaron tuned Mike out once more as she crouched, his gaze fixed on her legs until the fabric stopped shifting.

  Nope. No dice, no view.

  He snapped out of the siren’s trance and rushed over to aid her. After all, he was raised to be a Southern gentleman, not some ogling pervert.

  “Here, why don’t you let me carry that bucket?” Anticipating her consent, he wrapped his hand around the handle right next to hers.

  “No thanks!” She gave the handle an abrupt yank, which made the contents splash up onto the silk blouse he’d earlier admired. The moisture adhered the delicate fabric to her chest and made the outline of her demi-bra prominent.

  She was all Mandy, no padding.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, you said it, guy.” She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Once her shoulders stopped twitching, she unwrapped her fingers from the bucket handle and slowly straightened to her full five feet tall.

  If it weren’t for the filter provided by the fringe of dark bangs over her gray eyes, the intensity of her stare might have rendered him dumb. He suddenly understood what Mike meant about that temper.

  “Crap, I’ll get you something to dry off with,” Mike said as he hobbled to the trailer. “I’ve got a tee shirt in my car if you want it.”

  Her voice was low and flat when she responded. “I’ll pass. It’s thin. It’ll dry.”

  Now alone with the ticking time bomb, Aaron wasn’t sure how to react. Try to defuse her with his charm? That worked on most women he engaged with, but somehow he didn’t think a smile and wink would work on this one. She needed extra finessing, and he didn’t mind so much, because even with the sneer and knitted eyebrows, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  She was interesting. Unusual, even. Something other than the typical English rose type his father had always been so fond of and which his mother fit squarely into. And, the longer he stared, the more intoxicating she seemed.

  Holy Hell, those eyes.

  But it wasn’t the gray gaze burning holes through him he found most striking. That prize went to her skin. She had a flawless olive complexion that made her look a bit like a highly-polished statue come to life. The hair was nice, too — a long chestnut bob that took on a bronzy tone in the morning sun. He didn’t know much about clothes, but her style was evident. Modern without being excessively trendy. Classic, even. She was like an Audrey Hepburn for a new millennium, but one with more oomph to sink his teeth into.

  No, this wasn’t a time to be smarmy. She wasn’t a reporter to feed some pre-scripted line to. She wasn’t one of the women trying to snag him with the goal of to marrying up. Hell, she looked like she couldn’t give a shit about him. Boy, did that flip his switch in the right direction.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping the simple statement was the right one. Every muscle in his body seemed to coil as he endured her continued scrutiny.

  Finally, the tight set of her jaw eased, and her shoulders inched away from her ears. Crisis averted.

  He exhaled his relief.

  She flicked at her shirt. “I can’t seem to keep these blouses clean. I got hot dog chili on the last one I wore to work.”

  Aaron felt the contents of his stomach begin to roil and struggled to swallow. “Hot dog chili?” he rasped.

  “Yeah. Classy.” She accepted the wad of paper towels Mike returned with and started patting her shirt dry.

  Aaron turned to Mike for elaboration.

  “Sometimes Dad does these used car carnivals,” he said. “Lame-ass games, cheap food, and a lot of helium-filled latex balloons. People seem to dig them. Customers like to think they’re getting something extra with their car purchase, even if they’ll digest the ‘extra’ in four hours.”

  Archie knocked on the side window and made a “What are you doing?” gesture at the trio.

  Michael grinned wide and gave the man a thumb’s-up. “Everything’s great!” he said, putting overly exaggerated emphasis on his words so Archie could read his lips. Archie rolled his eyes and backed away. Aaron turned his attention back to the doused vixen.

  “Look, Mandy, I really am sorry about your shirt. Will you let me get it dry cleaned for you? Or, I don’t know. How does one clean silk?”

  She scoffed and finally let a smile crack her face. “Honestly? I usually just take them off when I get home, sniff ’em, and if they’re not too offensive I hang ’em up until the next time. If they need some attention, I hand wash. I don’t give dry cleaners my hard-earned money.” Her small grin wilted just that quickly.

  What’s that about? Dry cleaning is an odd thing to be sensitive over.

  She resumed the dabbing of her shirt and he resumed staring at the way her nipples strained behind it as she blotted.

  It took Mike holding out another dry length of paper towels for Aaron to pull his gaze away. He couldn’t remember a single time when he’d been so instantly aroused by a woman. Between that husky voice of hers and the fuck-off attitude, he was whipped. Absolutely ensnared.

  Mike to the rescue again. “Hey, Mandy, my knee is killing me.” He bent down and picked up the bucket’s handle. “If I stay upright much longer I’m going to be crawling by lunchtime.”

  She was still attending her soiled shirt so she didn’t see the I got this wink Mike gave Aaron.

  “Why don’t you let me worry about the dirty wheel spokes, huh? I’ll get myself a crate to sit on and you can show Mr. Owen the three sedans with the premium stickers? Can you do me that favor?”

  She performed a graceful hair flip that cleared her bangs from her eyes and revealed her arched eyebrow. The smell of vanilla wafted to Aaron’s nose and without realizing it until too late, he took a step closer to her.

  “I don’t know anything about those cars. They haven’t been here long enough,” she said.

  Mike sputtered his lips and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry, Mr. Owen. Can you excuse us for a moment?”

  Aaron retrieved his pen from his pocket and twirled it yet again as he pondered Mike’s exasperation. “Sure,” he said finally. “I’ll just start looking a
t that blue one. Are the doors open?”

  “Yes,” Mike and Mandy said in unison.

  Aaron nodded and walked toward the row of newer vehicles. When he looked behind him, Mike was making wild gestures and Mandy was shaking her head.

  Aaron leaned against the side of the open sedan and tapped his pen on top of the doorframe. “What an odd little sales team,” he mumbled. “Why are they working here? They’re both out of place.”

  He woke up his phone and told it to call his number four speed dial contact. When Tina answered with a “What do you need, dude?” in lieu of “hello” he said, “Honey, I need you to do some pre-employment screening on a few folks. I don’t have a whole lot of info, but hold tight for a bunch of text messages. Be discreet, as always.”

  He listened to Tina chatter in her usual rocket-propelled cadence, then chuckled. “I guess he’s okay looking. Not really my type.”

  He walked around to the front of the car and stared at the engine without touching. It was clean as a whistle, which meant absolutely nothing. Clean didn’t mean functional. Besides, that engine had way too little power for a car that size. He hated base models.

  “So, how’s this going to affect the training event?” Tina asked.

  “I don’t know if it is.” He worked his way to the driver’s door and sank into the seat. “Still, can’t hurt to be prepared. We can add another room. Better to have it than not.”

  “You know, I don’t mind handling some logistical stuff every now and then, but this really isn’t — ”

  “Objection noted, Tina.” He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his hair and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “I know it’s not your job. I’m working on finding someone who can do it. You know how picky I am, especially since that last batch of dud mechanics. I won’t compromise my core team with warm bodies who won’t pull their weight. I’ll make it right for both you and Chas. Just give me some time.”

  “Fine.” Tina sighed and hung up.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Come on, Mike, I know you’re trying to help me out, but this could be a big deal for you. You said you needed cash, right? Maybe you could finally get that knee of yours fixed.”

  Mandy and Mike both turned their gazes toward Aaron. He was talking on his phone and had his back turned to them while he stared under the hood of one of the sedans.

  Mike slid his arm around her shoulder and moved them a bit further from Archie’s office window. “Don’t worry about my knee,” he whispered. “I’ll be insured soon enough. I didn’t want to say anything yet because Dad’s gonna blow his top, but I’ve got another gig lined up.”

  She ducked out from under his arm and put her hands on her hips, scowling at him. “I never tell your secrets.”

  He nodded. “I know that. I just — ” He blew out a breath and shifted his weight to his good side. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were being left dangling. It’s a good gig. Evening news doing sports commentary. The station had offered me the position way back when I was still competing, but I wasn’t ready to sit still.”

  “And now you don’t have a choice.” She pointed to his bum knee.

  He shrugged. “Look, I’m just trying to hold out until payday because Dad is bastard enough he would hang onto my final commission check if I quit. I just need to make it look like I’m trying. I’ll sell that Miata or something, so you go ahead and take the Owen commission.”

  She pushed her hair back from her eyes and furrowed her brow. “You ginger jerk. I can’t believe you.”

  He smiled in that smarmy way he reserved especially for her.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I haven’t told anyone else. I wanted to make sure it was a done deal before I started making announcements. I faxed the paperwork from Dad’s office before he came in this morning. I hope he doesn’t check the history.”

  “You’re a horrible son!” Even as she said it she started to giggle and wrapped an arm around his waist to lean her head on his shoulder.

  “That I am.”

  They both laughed. Truth was, they’d been in a tacit conspiracy to make “Archduke Asshole’s” life as uncomfortable as they could manage for the past fifteen years. Usually, Mandy didn’t need to try all that hard. She just had to be herself and sit back and wait for the tirades about her uselessness. Mike had to work a little harder. His last great stunt had been nearly breaking his back after being tossed from his motorcycle during a motocross event in Sanford. He broke his shin in two places and the ligaments of his right knee were all over the place. Since he hadn’t been back on the track in almost a year, his endorsements dried up, followed immediately by his savings. Him nearly killing himself hadn’t been what flustered Archie: Mike having to move in with him did that.

  “I totally am. I think I’m his cosmic payback for all the dirt he’s done in life. I don’t know how your mom puts up with him. Hell, I don’t know how my mom put up with him for ten years. I never knew she was capable of laughing until after the divorce was final. That’s how much it sucked.”

  “I hate you for leaving me to the wolves.” She shifted her lips to the right side of her face and started chewing the inside of her mouth again. Mike being at the house was the only pro to balance out a very long list of cons in respect to her moving back home with her tail between her legs. He just got her. She didn’t have to explain anything.

  Mike held her close and rested the side of his face on top of her head. “Aw, kid. I know it’s rough. Just keep asking around, flexin’ that network of yours. You’ll find a job soon. I just know it. Meanwhile, go sell that man those cars. It’s an easy sale. Just be honest and sit back and collect your free money.”

  “Easy for you to say. I get hung up on even the simplest questions.” She pulled away from his arm so she could up into his face. “What is the difference between a diesel engine and a gasoline one, anyway?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, and then flattened his lips into a straight line. After thirty seconds or so, he finally offered, “Hey, that might require a diagram. Just keep on tellin’ folks that diesel is more efficient for long-distance hauling, okay?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not going to remember that. I can walk through four rows of a clothing store and point out every display that’s not to spec or schedule a staff of sixty people for a week of irregular shifts, but don’t expect me to remember what a bunch of moving parts do and why.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it. We can’t all be good at everything.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.” Aaron approached the two with a clipboard in his large hands and turned the full bore of his movie star grin on Mandy.

  She gulped but straightened her posture and stuck out her chin.

  “I actually suck at a lot of things. Makes life easier to just fess up to it and hire someone who’s good at those things to do them for me.”

  “Amen,” Mike agreed. “Did you see anything you like, Mr. Owen?”

  Aaron looked down at his clipboard and clucked his tongue as he reviewed some notes. “I want to try to lock down that green sedan today. It’s a really desirable car for people with small children because of the deep and wide backseat. We have a Tyner family on our waitlist with twin infants and a toddler who would need to put three car seats in the back. If it runs well, I’ll take it off your hands today. There are a couple of others that might be okay, but I’ll have to come back for those.”

  “Cool. Well, Mandy will take care of you. If you have any questions — ”

  “I won’t be able to answer them,” she rebutted. Mike had said to be honest, so she would.

  Aaron’s grin wilted a bit, not into a frown, but into something less salacious — more encouraging. “That’s all right. I’m an engineer and a car enthusiast. I can identify the source of pretty much any ticking or clattering ju
st from hearing it. If the ride isn’t smooth, it’s not hard for me to figure out why. All I need from you is general information about where the car came from and stuff like that.”

  He was twirling that pen again, but doing it slowly enough that Mandy could see the dirt under his nails. Yeah, she was intrigued, and becoming more so with each passing minute with him on the lot. In every picture she’d seen him in on television or in newspapers, he’d been well groomed and immaculately dressed. Even when he was just out on short errands his appearance seemed carefully curated: crisp polo shirts and khakis, hair slicked back, and those mirrored sunglasses always perched on his nose. The man in the pictures looked like the sort who would be averse to fiddling around under a sooty car hood.

  Standing in front of her was a different person altogether. His sun-streaked brown hair was longish — not long enough to require a ponytail, but certainly long enough to need frequent tucking behind his ears since he hadn’t styled it that day. His blue ringer tee had a hole at the neck he had to have been aware of and his tan shorts had a couple of bleach splotches. She thought this version of Aaron Owen, with the five o’clock shadow on his chiseled face and wearing an easy, affable smile, was far more interesting than his public persona. This casual Aaron was the kind of guy she would gleefully seduce. His alter ego was the kind of guy she could corrupt. She always felt bad for being corruptive.

  Mike gave her a nudge with his elbow. “Why are smiling like that, Miranda? Did you lose your last marble?”

  “Possibly. It was lonely. It was bound to roll away sooner or later.”

  She didn’t know if Aaron was reading her mind or if they were just on the same wavelength. His smile had changed yet again. It had gone from being merely pleasant to a bit crooked, flirtatious.

  Mike obviously didn’t notice. “Don’t worry, Mr. Owen. She’s quite competent, even if she is a bit insane.”

  “Well, good. I could use the entertainment. I’ve been out at the beach alone on prescribed R&R time by my mother for the past week and was bored out of my skull. So, test drive?”