Miles handed his phone to the driver. "Name's Miles. Once it's repaired, I'll send you the bill."
Just then, Leslie got out of the car too, rubbing her aching forehead with an annoyed look on her face. Her tone wasn't polite either.
"Seriously? If you don't know how to drive, maybe just don't. You'll end up hurting someone."
She thought Miles might argue with the driver, so she got out, ready to back him up. Even if she didn't like him, at this point, they were on the same team.
The driver glanced at Leslie-pretty girl, but her words burned like chili.
"My bad, totally on me."
Since the guy apologized right away, Leslie let it go.
"He admitted fault. What are we still hanging around for?"
Then, the back door of the other car opened.
A polished leather shoe hit
