Selling Two Cars

Chapter 3: Selling Two Cars

"Only two years old, then?" Vance didn't look convinced.

"No — Amber's car is the old family car, from before my parents died. Glenn's been using the one I drove in college. I'm the one in the brand-new one — bought it a year ago, before the wedding. And I bought Gavin a motorcycle for school."

Rachel's eyes filled without warning. "You gave them everything."

"Hey." Vance pulled her against his side. "I am nothing like Glenn. I am constitutionally incapable of doing what he did. I have been faithful since birth."

"You'd better be," Rachel said, muffled against his shoulder. "Or I will personally remove the relevant anatomy."

That afternoon, Anaya drove home with a smile on her face. Bitter, yes. But she was standing.

"Where have you been?" Gina met her at the door, arms folded. "There's nothing to eat for lunch."

"I was at the hospital. Then I stopped by a salon."

"So you were out enjoying yourself while we sat here starving."

Anaya tilted her head. "Starving? You're standing right in front of me, perfectly alive, last I checked. If you're hungry — there's a full refrigerator. Cook something." She walked past them both. "The kitchen is at the end of the hall. I'm sure you can find it."

She left Gina and Amber standing there with their mouths open.

"What is wrong with her?" Gina muttered. "She's never talked like that before."

"No idea," Amber said, recovering. "Come on, make something — I worked up an appetite shopping this morning." She lowered her voice. "I have to say, since Glenn married that girl our lives have been transformed. We used to eat lentils and rice every day. Now look at us." A small satisfied sigh. "Lucky for us she's too naive to notice what's happening to her money."

"Not for much longer." Anaya said it from the other side of the wall, her voice perfectly pleasant, and kept walking. "Because tomorrow morning I'm canceling every card I gave you."

Silence from the dining room.

She let them sit with that and went upstairs.

It was two in the afternoon. Glenn wouldn't be home for hours. Anaya showered, changed, and spread everything across the bed: vehicle titles, property certificates, share documents, blank land deeds, the company's official paperwork.

She checked every single document. Names, dates, seals, signatures. Nothing had been altered. Everything was still in her name.

She exhaled slowly.

They haven't moved yet. Good. They're waiting until after the wedding.

She called Rachel.

"Come to the house at three. If someone else answers the door, say you're picking up a phone you left behind. Bring a big bag — I'm handing you all my important documents to take to Vance's office. Have him verify everything is legally sound. I want this done fast."

Rachel arrived at exactly three o'clock, polished and deliberately glamorous.

Gina answered the door. Scanned her head to toe. "What do you want?"

"Is Anaya home? I'm her friend."

"Her room's upstairs." Gina turned her back and walked away.

Rachel climbed the stairs and knocked softly.

The door opened from inside.

"Get in here." Anaya had already assembled everything. "You don't need to stay long — we can't let them get suspicious."

"Got it." Rachel opened the tote bag she'd brought.

Anaya transferred the entire stack of documents into it. "Tell Vance to move. Before they notice anything is missing."

"Relax. Everything is under control." Rachel squeezed her hand. "No matter what happens — the baby isn't responsible for any of this. Don't neglect yourself. And call us. You are not alone in this."

"Thank you. Now go. Make up something convincing if they ask."

"Convincing is my specialty."

She was halfway down the stairs when two shadows detached from the hallway wall. Amber and Gina. Standing in the corridor like they'd been waiting.

"Oh!" Rachel manufactured mild surprise beautifully. "Were you about to knock? I just came to pick up a phone I accidentally left here last time. All sorted now." She waved the tote bag at them. "My fiancé is coming over tonight so I need to run — sorry, ladies, lovely to see you—"

She was out the front door before either of them could form a question.

They are actually terrifying, Rachel thought, walking quickly to her car. How has Anaya lived in that house for a year.

Upstairs, Anaya had changed into a satin slip — curve-conscious, deliberately eye-catching. She walked downstairs.

"That's what you're wearing?" Gina's lip curled. "In this house?"

"I was going to cook dinner." Anaya smoothed the fabric over her belly. "Is there a dress code in my own kitchen?"

"Anaya," Amber said, "you should put on something more appropriate. Glenn and Gavin will be home soon."

"That's fine with me. We're family." She turned to Gina with the blandest expression possible. "Gina — honestly, my body still looks good, doesn't it? Even pregnant. I make sure to keep up with my exercise. Glenn keeps telling me he couldn't imagine looking at anyone else."

Gina said nothing. She didn't need to. Anaya had already catalogued the things Glenn's sister spent freely on — designer bags, shoes, clothes — and the things she did not. A gym membership. Skincare. Anything that might put Adrian's attention back where it belonged. Anaya had never once seen the two of them exchange a single warm glance.

Not her problem anymore.

Morning. The far side of the bed was cold and smooth and completely undisturbed. Glenn hadn't come home.

She made herself one plate of fried rice with shrimp and chili and sat down to eat it at the kitchen table.

"That's all?" Amber appeared in the doorway. "Just fried rice? One bowl?"

"I'm feeling weak today. I could only manage for one." Anaya kept eating. "Glenn didn't come home last night, so I'm not exactly feeling motivated to cook for everyone. There's food in the refrigerator — help yourself." She looked up pleasantly. "Do you know where he went? He didn't call me."

Amber's mouth worked silently for a moment. She knew perfectly well — Glenn had messaged to say he was with Zara, who was being needy about the pregnancy. Amber approved. Zara was an asset.

"Oh — Mom." Anaya pushed back from the table. "I need the car keys. I'm selling the cars today."

"What?" Amber's voice went up. "Sell the — I use that car. What am I supposed to drive to my social club?"

"Don't worry, I'll get you something better. It's actually standard procedure when you own a company this size — periodic fleet upgrades. Sell the old ones, replace them with new." She smiled. "Yours will be an upgrade, I promise."

Amber visibly calculated the value of a new car versus the loss of the existing one and relaxed. "Oh. All right. You had me scared for a second. I'll get the keys."

"Registration and title documents too, please."

By midday, a buyer had taken both cars away — the old family sedan and Anaya's own sports coupe. She'd debated keeping the sports car, but she was five months pregnant and had no business behind the wheel of a two-door. It went with the rest.

She rode in the buyer's vehicle as far as the financial district, then asked to be dropped at a specific bank.

She had five credit cards and two ATM cards to cancel. It took almost two hours.

Not because the bank was slow. Because there were that many accounts.

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