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and Maxwell limped across the room, his grin two miles wide.

Chapter 3
    Instead of letting his mind dwell on the memory of how her damp skin felt beneath his hands, like he wanted to, Emerson Maxwell crossed the room and maintained a business-like air. “We’ve met, Pete,” he said and offered his hand. “How nice to see you again.”
    Pleased he’d left the posturing outside the room, Olivia gave him a weedy smile and displayed the same courtesy, adding a curt nod. “Mr. Maxwell,” she said, gripping his hand. His straightforward, firm handshake created an unexpected buzz, like a direct line of champagne into her veins, and his spiced autumn fragrance fed into the line to imbue her system with another bubbly kick.
    “Please, it’s Emerson. I’m sorry, I never did get your last name.”
    “Regen.”
    Emerson grinned, waiting to see if her business-like demeanor would change. When it didn’t he said, “You know, I just heard this funny story about a woman getting caught in an elevator. Would you like to hear it?”
    “I wonder if it’s the same one I heard about the winking claustrophobic jackass.”
    “We’re a little pressed for time, folks,” Pete said. “We can tell our stories at lu—” The next second, a thunderous boom of laughter rolled from his throat. “Oh my God! Olivia was your naked chick in the elevator? I thought Timmons made this up. Olivia? Oh man! Oh man !”
    Puzzled, Emerson looked from Pete to the woman in the fuzzy pink sweater, one eyebrow boosted. “Olivia? Wait. I thought you said your name was Jerry.” It took a second…and then it twigged. He’d completely missed her ongoing mouse jokes and reference to Tom and Jerry cartoons. “Oh, hell, you’re here for the translating thing! You’re Ella’s friend, the maid of honor.”
    While their paths had never crossed, for years Ella had raved about Emerson, Pete’s college roommate. Back then, whenever Pete brought Emerson home, Ella said she’d needed a dental vacuum to suck up the drool that had collected in her mouth. Over the years, it became standard for her to talk about the erotic fantasies she had about her brother’s roommate-turned-business partner. Until she met her fiancé, Craig Fulton, the man of all her dreams, Emerson had been cast as the face Ella pictured when sex with her boyfriends was less than stellar.
    Now Ella’s former sex fantasy was the best man at his cousin’s wedding.
    Emerson Maxwell was Craig’s cousin. Olivia took a breath and released it slowly, softly, without a sound. Best man indeed .
    Pete got his laughter under control. “Jesus, Em, who did you think she was?”
    “Jerry, my naked elevator—”
    “I wasn’t naked,” she said quietly.
    “No you weren’t.” Emerson nodded his agreement, trying to keep his expression stony, “but I got a good look at your—”
    “You said you weren’t looking.”
    Pete held up his hands. “Olivia, I don’t want to know this, I don’t want this picture in my head. Oh, I so do not want this picture of my sister’s best friend in my head.”
    “Okay, look, Pete, she wasn’t completely naked.” Emerson waited for her face to turn as pink as the little scar near her mouth.
    Olivia looked at him placidly, but the pleasant buzz she’d felt from his touch turned into scratchy irritation. “You know I wasn’t naked at all,” she said evenly.
    “That’s your story. In mine you were practically naked.”
    “And you were breathing so fast you practically passed out.”
    “Well, your dress was see-through.”
    “Because I was soaking wet.”
    “Yeah, and everything you wore was see-through.”
    “The lack of oxygen must—” she broke off, suddenly aware of the scope of his story telling. The expression the amused receptionist had worn when she’d taken the jacket popped up like an instant message, and Olivia knew that look had nothing to do with how her sweater had been buttoned. “Okay. Who else did you tell this little porno fairy