Austen drove out of a Mercedes dealership with a seven-year-old beige Honda Civic that cost eight grand. Sissy had given Austen an allotment of $90,000 and told her to buy something befitting her status as Cobi Winslow’s wife.
Julia sat beside Austen, her face screwed up, looking around the tiny cabin. “This looks like the car I drove in college.”
“And that’s exactly the way I like it.” Austen smiled, whipping the car into the flow of traffic. “I just had a seventy-thousand-dollar car repossessed. That’s not going to happen again.”
“The Winslows aren’t going to take your car from you, Austen. If that were the case, why would they have bought it?”
“Whether they take it from me for some reason, or I decide to give it back, either way, I won’t miss this little thing.”
“And why would you want to give it back?” Julia asked. “You thinking about backing out on this?”
“I hate to say it, but the thought has crossed my mind,” Austen said, braking at a red light. She turned to Julia. “The upside is, I would have my freedom. The downside, I would still have to pay my mother’s mortgage, and I would need to earn money till this housing thing blows over.”
“Yeah,” Julia said. “Money you don’t have.”
“Then maybe I should get a job.”
“Girl,” Julia said, “nobody’s hiring out there.”
The light turned green. Austen sped the car along, smiled, and said, “We won’t know for sure until I try.”