Car TroubleTerrence Jackson is on his way home from another long day at the advertising firm he owns when he hears it—a steady chug-chug-chug beneath the hood of his brand new, candy-apple red Mercedes that he knows the sports car shouldn’t be making. He paid too much money for this damn thing to have it sound like an old man wheezing uphill. The late afternoon heat only adds to his discomfort. By the time he pulls into the driveway of his modest, split-level home, he’s ready to call the dealership and chew someone out for selling him a lemon.
By morning, he’s calm enough to call the firm first to tell them he’ll be late. His secretary answers. A pretty, young girl with a thick Southern accent, Melissa Jones is fresh out of college and, if truth be told, was hired more for her looks than
