“I did not talk to it. It was just…pretending. And you said you'd never tell.”

“Just give me the rest of those.” He reached over her shoulder and grabbed the papers from her hand then stuffed them in between two books on the shelf.

She almost wished she could see if there was a note from Penny Fitch. It was

ancient history, but she couldn't help it.

Peter snorted. “Why don't we just leave behind memory lane, okay?” He

pulled her by the elbow to a chair near his desk, then returned to his own.

Kate saluted as she sat. “Aye, aye, Super Chem Guy.”

“You said you needed some advice on your proposal?”

She was enjoying seeing him flustered, brushing his unruly hair back from

his eyes. His face was clean-shaven today, and he smelled like fresh laundry and

spice. But he was right. It was time to get down to business.

“Okay, so you know I'm supposed to be coming up with this brilliant new makeover for Nitrovex.”

“Okay.”

“But I just can't seem to get a handle on it. I mean, most of the companies

we work with are creative companies or in the service industry. We look at what

makes them tick, what's at their core, their foundation, then come up with a slogan. Like 'Moving into the Future' or 'Technology at the Speed of the Mind.'

Stuff like that.”

“Catchy.”

“Thanks. You can use them in your next letter to Marvel Comics.”

“So, what has Nitrovex thought of what you've come up with so far?”

She remembered the long silence from John Wells. “What's a word that

means hate but only worse?”

“Loathe?” He rubbed his chin once with his palm. “Um, despise? Shrink

back in horror? Vomit profusely?”

“Let's just stick with hate. He hated it.”

“Oh, c'mon, it couldn't be that bad.” He moved his chair closer to her, his arm touching hers. “Show me what you got.”

“Okay, but just remember, I'm not responsible for any loathing or shrinking

back in horror it may cause.” She punched a couple of keys on her laptop. A graphics program popped up, then an image of a smiling cow holding a test tube

filled the screen.

Peter burst out laughing, then stopped, clearing his throat.

Kate's eyes narrowed. “That was just a preliminary sketch. You weren't

supposed to see it.”

“No, Kate, I'm sorry. It's good. If Nitrovex were an ice-cream truck.” This time, he covered his face as he laughed, wincing in anticipation of the swat she

did give him.

“Hilarious. Artistic advice from a guy who couldn't even finish a paint-by-number picture of a puppy.”

“Hey, you're the artist, not me.”

“Exactly, which is why I need the help of your simple, unemotional little scientific brain. What am I missing?”

“Besides a dancing test tube? Not sure.”

She winced. “I tried that.”

“Really?” He rubbed his chin again. “Maybe if you gave him a little hat…”

“C'mon, Peter, I'm serious.”

His laughter had subsided. “Okay, okay. I'm sorry.” He wiped his eyes.

“Look, you're dealing with engineers and scientists here. Neither the people at Nitrovex or the companies they're dealing with are going to care about whether

the logo has a cow or a pig or a corn stalk in it. They're not that literal.”

“So how do I come up with a tagline for a company whose main product seems to be something that keeps raw sewage from getting foamy?”

“Well, how about 'Technology at the Speed of Poop'?”

Kate shook her head. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Peter's shoulders were shaking. He held up his hand. “Wait, wait, I got it.

'Nitrovex: Bowel Moving Into The Future.' ”

Kate stood up. “Thanks a lot for your help.”