Free Driving in Neutral by Sandra Antonelli Page B

why he does all the hiring and I stand there and look good.”
    “Are you fishing for compliments?”
    “Do I look like I need to be reassured?” He cast an eye about the things she had on her desk. Most people had transferred their music collection to iPods and other digital music players. Olivia preferred CDs. Emerson pulled one from a tall stack she had on the desktop. He turned the jewel case over. “You like these guys?”
    “Would they be sitting on my desk if I didn’t?”
    He shook his head and looked through the pile. “Vampire Weekend, Daft Punk, The Dead Kennedys, and…” he picked up another CD, “ Disco Super Hits ?” He read the song list out loud. “ Hot Stuff, Le Freak, Ring My Bell and YMCA . The Village People? You don’t strike me as The Village People type. At all.”
    “What is it with you and this need to type me?”
    Emerson’s mouth pursed and twisted. He exhaled and replaced the CD before looking at the photos she had on the desk. “Are these,” he said, pointing to a silver frame, “your grandparents?”
    “No, my parents.”
    “And this guy?”
    “My brother, Hector.”
    “He looks like he could be your father. So I guess this,” he lifted a framed playbill from the Chicago Lyric Opera, “is your sister?”
    “Yes.”
    “They both look a lot older than you.”
    “They are.” Olivia lifted her glasses and jiggled them impatiently. She had to get Maxwell out of her office before she did something stupid…like find out what sort of toothpaste he used this morning by sticking her tongue in his mouth. “Is there anything else, Maxwell? I’m in the middle of something. Your boys are tops in computer animation, but no one here seems to know a whole hell of a lot about cars. I’ve got to explain horsepower, aerodynamics, and the reasons race cars are designed with low centers of gravity, so these concept sketches can be turned into computer graphics that are accurate and theoretically possible.”
    Emerson slid his rump off the desk. “Lots of things are theoretically possible,” he said. The scent of her, that spring rain and lavender fragrance, had started to throttle his good sense. Yeah, lots of things were theoretically possible. He saw himself theoretically reaching for her, theoretically pulling her out of the chair she was in and up into his arms. He headed for the door before he swept the CDs and family photos off the desk and theoretically lowered her to the cleaned-off top with his hands tearing the buttons from her tailored pink blouse, while his mouth theoretically gorged on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Lot’s of things are theoretical here, but what do you expect when half the guys’ closest experience with sports cars is restricted to Xbox, Wii, and online gaming?”

Chapter 5
    “Put this in perspective? What the hell do you know about perspective, Pete? This is my damn wedding and I am callin’ the shots! Do you hear me?”
    “Everyone can hear you Ella. Trust me, everyone can hear you!”
    Olivia put down her highlighter, rose from her chair and headed out of her office. Pete was correct. Every word Ella shouted at her older brother traveled from the elevators clear to the other end of the floor.
    Employees peeked over the tops of their cubicles, poked their heads through doorways and peered around the corner of the staffroom to see what was going on, some sidling out into the hall to watch. Olivia pushed her way past Josh, Palmer, Timmons, and the kid with orange high tops. She hurried past Maxwell, who stood in the doorway of his office. He caught her eye as she passed by and shrugged, his index finger making a spinning motion at his temple.
    Unfortunately, Ella saw the little gesture. Like an angry, clucking hen, she bustled around at the end of the hallway, griping in a squawking voice, “Perspective? How could you do that to me, Pete? Mommy said you reminded her. What were you thinkin’?”
    “Calm down,” Pete groaned. He didn’t yell like his