The Convertible - Thief of Hearts

Walking down the narrow aisle, Darren bumped into a covered car. Pulling back a corner of the cover revealed a British racing green-colored fender. "What year is this one? It's some kind of a Triumph." He pulled the cover all the way off. The beam of sunlight coming through the door reflected brightly off the deep green paint. "Wow, she's a beauty! And the keys are in it!"

I checked the list. "This is odd. There's no Triumph on the list at all. It must have been completely written off and deleted or something. As far as the insurance company goes, it doesn't exist. Same goes for Corporate HQ; they paid for the vehicles on the clipboard, and that's it." I had an idea. Only 12 days until retirement, I was definitely bulletproof, career-wise. What the hell, why not?

Darren had grown up a blue-collar kid in the Midwest; he didn't go to college or have much to his name; he often lived from check to check. This was a man of little means who either carpooled with me or took the bus to work. Bottom line, Darren was a good worker with a positive attitude, and an overall good man.

Everybody at Move-It International loved working with him; he was also like family to me and my wife Darlene, the child we'd never had. When Darlene was hospitalized, Darren visited every day until she got released. I was convinced Darren was one of the reasons Darlene recovered as quickly as she did. She adored him. I knew she'd wholeheartedly approve of what I was about to do.

I cleared my throat. "You know, Darren, as far as our bosses know, this car doesn't exist. if you drove it home nobody would know except you and me, and at my age, my memory is for shit. Hell, I've already forgotten this conversation. Since the Triumph is an unclaimed vehicle you could file a mechanic's lien and get a new title, and you'd be all set." Stunned, Darren looked up; at first he thought I was kidding, but then he saw I was dead serious.

He threw his arms around me in an unexpected hug. In shock, he could barely speak. "Thank you," was about all he could get out.

I patted him on the back. "Come on, bud. Let's finish this inventory audit, then you can get out of here in your new car."