“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 just 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?”
“Of course. I’ll go get the key. I guess we can forego copying your license. You’re not exactly a nobody.”
“According to my mother anyway.” Aaron kept his gaze locked on her face until the door slammed behind Mike. Together, they started walking toward the sedan. “So, how did a stunner like you end up in a place like this?”
Her brows shot up but she fixed her face before he looked down at her again. “I bet you say that to all the girls, Mr. Owen.”
“Aaron. Call me Aaron.”
“Fine. Aaron.”
“So, tell me.”
They stopped at the car trunk and waited for Mike to catch up. “It’s a long story and not particularly flattering.”
“You mean selling cars isn’t your first choice profession?”
She laughed a hearty, gut-clenching laugh and could hardly catch her breath. “No way. This wasn’t even a plan B. I double-majored in business administration and human resources. I thought that degree would keep me away from this place.”
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
He opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. Instead, he shook his head and held out an arm, indicating she continue toward the car.
“Anyhow, I had a great job I loved back in Raleigh. I got fired three months ago.”
“Over anything scandalous?”
She shook her head as Mike hobbled over holding out the key. She took it and waved him away. “Nothing that makes a good story. Just corporate bullsh-uh … crap.”
“Damn it!” Mike exclaimed from up the lot.
They got into the car with Aaron in the driver’s seat and her at his right.
“I’ve never really had a job to be fired from,” he admitted as he turned the ignition.
“How’d you manage that?”
He shrugged. “Rich parents. Or at least they were rich by the time I had any awareness of such things. I went straight from college to a service program. Dug ditches and built shelters in third world countries — that kind of thing. Did that for five years then moved home right when Dad was campaigning for governor.”
“Let’s head south on 32.”
He nodded and carefully backed the car out of its diagonal space into the driveway. “I wasn’t home for long when I started the Cars to Work charity. Actually, my mother urged me to do it. I was getting nagged so much by the national press because they couldn’t figure out what I was about.”
She remembered the press’s interest in him. At the time, it hadn’t been because he’d done anything spectacular, but more so because he gorgeous and mysterious, and his father was being touted as a future presidential candidate for the party. No one knew anything about what made the man tick, and he always played coy with the press, leaving folks to think what they would. Just like Mandy had.
“Still can’t, I guess.”
“Right. Well, it was either I do something productive or take one of those offers to sign onto the cast of a reality television show. The charity seemed like the more fruitful endeavor.”
“I tend to agree.”
“Other folks did, too. Money started pouring in.”
She turned in her seat so her knees were angled toward him and her back to the passenger door. “You’ve never worked for anyone other than charities, although you could probably land a pretty sweet job in any number of corporations due to your father’s connections — ”
“And?”
“And instead, here you are running the fastest growing NPO in the state. Do you even pay yourself?”
He snorted and stole a look at her as he braked for a stoplight. At that angle his eyes looked straight green, although back at the lot there’d been a smattering of brown in them. “Yes, I pay myself, although my admin’s paychecks look a little better than mine. It’s been a wild ride, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“Explain.”
“I’ve got a staff of around thirty scattered all over the state and parts of Virginia. Caseworkers, certified mechanics, project managers, administrative and marketing folks, and so on. Everyone does their own thing and once a quarter or so my mother sends me some guy who makes sure I have all the board meetings on time and that I get all my paperwork in.”
“I’m not hearing a problem yet.” As the light switched to green, she pointed right.
“The problem is I never know where anyone is at any given time. I don’t want to be at my computer poring over schedules. I want to be out in the field talking to the people we help and, well, playing with cars.”
“You should hire someone.”
He cast his green gaze in her direction. “I’m working on it. So, hey, can we take this car out to open road? I want to put some stress on the engine.”
“You got it. Swing a U and we’ll go barrel down Highway 17.”
This was the kind of test drive she could get used to. He didn’t ask her complicated questions like when he should shift into all wheel drive or why there wasn’t an external antenna. He already knew.
And maybe it didn’t hurt he was gorgeous. If she had to put her car-related idiocy on display, it might as well be for someone she could daydream about later.