The sound of harps playing echoed in the quiet chamber of Bette’s car.  She hit a button, “James,you told me you’d change the gallery ring tone in my phone to something less mechanical…but harps?,” she asked wryly.

She could hear him laugh a little, “Sorry boss, I didn’t have time before you drove off earlier today. I’ll switch it to something else when you get back.  How about..umm…Palladio?”

She grinned and shook her head.  The song he suggested came from a car commercial that James loved.  Bette thought the advert was well shot, but the background music, overly dramatic.  To break the tension of mounting the gallery’s holiday exhibit, during breaks they’d bantered about the car’s merits and demerits.  I guess he still can’t get that song out of his head.  Nor the car, probably.  When they had been debating, James had also urged her to consider leasing the car, to take advantage of the holiday offers, “Boss, how long have you been driving that dated blue Scandinavian convertible?  Time to trade up!”

After a couple of weeks of his teasing, she’d relented, and decided to visit the showroom.  But,instead of examining the car she’d made an appointment to test, her eye fell on a sexy all-electric speedster in fire-engine red on display.  James was flabbergasted when she pulled up in it later that week. She shrugged her shoulders, “They gave me a good deal, and took my “dated convertible” at book value, too!”

She hadn’t been able to figure out some of the car’s controls, however, and had asked James to do things for her, like sync her phone, program the satellite channels, and input all the addresses she tended to go to in the GPS  — this would prompt the car to relay traffic information to her once she’d selected one.

“…and Xavier has an idea for the front of the gallery that you’ll either love or hate.  We can’t decide which, so I told him to hold off until you get here before starting on it,” James was saying.

He paused, noting Bette hadn’t reacted to his run-down of the day’s events in the gallery.  “Where are you anyway?,” he asked.

“As it happens I am cruising down the Pac 1, just left Santa Barbara,” she answered, her tone changing, becoming reflective.