Skye had been able to convince Hugo to show them around personally, rather than handing them over to a member of his sales staff, but already she was regretting that impulse. She had forgotten how ruthless and underhanded her cousin could be, and she was afraid he’d take advantage of Xenia’s youth and inexperience.
Flashing deep dimples, Hugo said to Xenia as he led her and Skye out of the building, “Let’s get you into a car.”
The early-September sun beat down on the windshields of vehicles parked along Basin Street, Scumble River’s main drag. Other than the empty road, there wasn’t much else to see. Ye Olde Junque Emporium was the only other business open within a two- or three-block radius.
Hugo directed them to a space a few doors down containing a small rusty hatchback with yellow block letters spelling out EZ TERMS on a side window. Skye frowned but kept silent. She’d decided to intervene only if Xenia requested her opinion, and that was about as likely as the government truly reducing taxes or really fixing the health care system.
Xenia walked around the Ford. “How many miles does this . . . this thing have on it?”
“This luxury automobile only has a hundred and ten thousand,” Hugo answered smoothly, then added, “You mentioned that you’re attending film school in Chicago and need transportation for the commute. This baby has a spacious interior and gets incredible mileage. And I can let you have her for only four thousand dollars. Let me tell you about the previous owner.”
Skye studied Hugo as he talked. Her cousin had been fortunate when he took a dip in the gene pool. He had gotten a long, lean body from his mother’s side of the family and a thick black mane and the Leofanti eyes from his father’s. If it had been the other way around, he would have ended up short, with thinning dishwater blond hair. His dad, Skye’s uncle Dante, looked a lot liked a penguin; Hugo would have probably resembled a bowling pin.
Skye had the Leofanti emerald eyes, too, but that was where the similarity ended. While Skye’s shone with genuineness, Hugo’s glittered with insincerity. Although he oozed charm, he was good at masking his true thoughts. This was an advantage in his chosen profession, but it did not make him trustworthy.
Xenia broke in on Hugo’s sales spiel. “Seriously, dude, fuel economy may be important, but I’m carpooling with another girl from town, so it’s not totally the deciding factor. There’s also acceleration and quality of the ride.” She angled her pierced brow contemptuously. “By the way, FYI, four thousand is double what this piece of crap is worth, and even at a quarter of the price it would probably come back and bite me.”
Hugo’s expression subtly changed, and Skye felt her lips twitch. Clearly, he had looked at Xenia, outfitted in her usual Goth-punk sex-kitten attire, and thought she was an airhead on whom he could pull a fast one. He was wising up quickly.
Skye could understand her cousin’s misconception. Today Xenia had on a short ruffled skirt, leggings that ended midcalf, and a pair of Doc Martens. She had layered several ripped T-shirts, all of which exposed the gold ring in her navel. A multitude of bangle bracelets worn on top of fishnet gloves on both arms completed her fashion statement. White skin and the fuchsia stripe in her hair at the temple were the only contrasts to the unrelieved black of her clothing.
“What else do you have?” Xenia shaded her eyes and looked down the line of vehicles parked on either side of the dealership. “You gotta turn it up a notch from this.” She thumped the Escort’s trunk. “I want something sick.”
Hugo glanced questioningly at Skye, who mouthed the word cool.
Hugo recovered quickly. “I know just the car for you. A Volkswagen Beetle. It’s hip and gets great mileage.” He guided Xenia and Skye by their elbows. “I was saving this for Dr. Zello’s daughter—she’s turning sixteen next month—but since you’re a friend of my cousin, I’ll let you have first crack at it.”
“Awesome.” Xenia rolled her eyes at Skye but allowed herself to be propelled across the road to a line of vehicles parked along the curb.
“What do you think?” Hugo stopped beside a tiny yellow car that looked like an upside-down coffee cup. The lettering on its windshield read, SUPER DEAL. “She even has a cute little flower holder near the driver’s seat.”
“Dude, do I look like a flower kinda girl to you?” Xenia shook her head but inspected every inch of the finish, then repeated the process with the interior. Finally she asked, “What year is it?”
“Two thousand three.” Hugo’s smile displayed impossibly straight white teeth against his deeply tanned skin. “And she only has seventy-three thousand miles on her.”
As he pointed out the car’s features, Skye noticed they were in front of the new bookstore. The display window was still covered on the inside with brown paper, but the words Tales and Treats were painted in gold across the glass. Rumor had it that the owners had purchased the entire building and were living above the shop.
As Skye examined the second floor for signs of occupancy, the front door slammed open, and a petite woman dressed in faded jeans and a T-shirt with NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS MOVIE ~ J. W. EAGAN printed on the front came running out. “Mr. Leofanti, a word please.”
“Mrs. Erwin, as you can see, I’m busy right now.” Hugo hid his scowl and said, “Perhaps we can talk when I have more time. Why don’t you send your husband over later?”
“It’s Ms. Vaughn or Risé, as I’ve told you before.” In an aside to Skye and Xenia she explained, “I kept my maiden name when I got married, which seems to confuse Mr. Leofanti to no end.” Turning her attention back to Hugo, she said, “And for the tenth time, you need to deal with me, not Orlando, on this matter.”
“Well, Miz Vaughn.” Hugo grabbed Xenia’s elbow and tried to steer her away from the woman. “I’ll speak to you later.”
“Back off! You’re bruising my aura.” Xenia shook off Hugo’s hand, crossed her arms, and refused to budge. “I’m not in a hurry. Go ahead and talk to Ms. Vaughn.”
Xenia’s expression suggested that Hugo was rapidly losing any credibility he’d had with her. If Skye had liked her cousin, she would have told him that the teen was a feminist and his condescending attitude toward the bookstore woman would not improve his chances of selling Xenia a car.
“No. Ms. Vaughn can wait.” Hugo made another attempt to move Xenia away. “I know just what you want.”
“Oh, yeah?” Xenia snorted. “Yet, despite the look on my face, you’re still talking.”
Hugo’s ears turned red, and he snapped, “Young lady, you have an attitude problem.”
“No, I don’t.” Xenia smiled, clearly pleased she’d provoked him into losing his cool. “You have a perception problem.” She patted the laptop case that hung from her shoulder. “Now that we have that settled, I need to check the Internet about this car.” She turned to Risé. “You got Wi-Fi?”
“Yes.” The bookstore owner nodded to the door behind her. “Help yourself.”
“Phenomenal.” Xenia fluttered her fingers at Hugo, and said, “Later.”
Skye was torn. Should she go with Xenia or stay here? Since Skye was technology challenged and would be of no help with the computer, she remained where she was.
“Yes?” Hugo heaved a put-upon sigh and turned back to Risé. “What now?”