There on the front walk of my work, right in front of the doors that opened into the office, and the entire row of cubicle offices that house my fellow employees, was Steve's wife. Standing next to her was Mason. Standing between her and our receptionist was our male security officer with the big belly. There seemed to be shouting between the two women, Steve's wife and the company receptionist. The security guard was breaking a sweat in the hot summer day, and Mason looked confused. Then as I watched Steve's wife pushed Mason with her hands to his chest, her mouth screaming something, that is when I did something really... stupid. I hit the gas instead of the breaks as I had been coasting through the parking lot watching all this, and I hit the president's brand new Silver Range Rover. The sound of the smack of my tiny red two door used car against the Presidents Range Rover was loud. The dent in his car was minimal. Although I might get fired over ramming a brand-new car. Nobody with a new car wants to deal with this. Better to just fire the imp who did it. My red used-car lot special deal of a car had its front-end bashed up and a jacked up hood with steam coming out of the front of my car. I was pretty sure I wouldn't need to worry about repairing the leaky radiator that had just decided to start leaking on me this morning. I was going to need to replace the whole car and most likely without a job or a possible let's make up boyfriend. Mason obviously now knew the real story behind Steve, not the skirted view that I gave him.
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