Wheels by Arthur Hailey Read Free Book Online Page B

first coming to Detroit, though she had tried, for Adam's sake. But the all-consuming interest in their occupations which so many auto people had, leaving time for little else, repelled her. Erica's own father, an airline captain, had been good at his job, but always put it behind him mentally when he left an Island Airways cockpit to come home. His greater interests were being with his family, fishing, pottering at carpentry, reading, strumming a guitar, and sometimes just sitting in the sun. Erica knew that even now her own mother and father spent far more time together than she and Adam did. It was her father who had said, when she announced her sudden plans to marry Adam: "You're your own girl and always have been. So I won't oppose this because, even if I did, it would make no difference and I'd sooner you go with my blessing titan without. And maybe, in time, I'll get used to having a son-in-law almost my own age. He seems a decent man; I like him. But one thing I'll warn you of: He's ambitious, and you don't know yet what ambition means, especially up there in Detroit. If the two of you have trouble, that'll be the cause of it .”
    She sometimes thought how observant-and how right-her father had been. Erica's thoughts returned to the newspaper and Emerson Vale, whose face glared out from a two-column cut. She wondered if the youthful auto critic was any good in bed, then thought: probably not. She had heard there were no women in his life, nor men either, despite abortive efforts to smear him with a homosexual tag. Humanity, it seemed, had a depressing proportion of capons and worn-out males. listlessly, she turned the page. There was little that held interest, from international affairs-the world was in as much a mess as on any other day-th rough to the social section, which contained the usual auto names: the Fords had entertained an Italian princess, the Roches were in New York, the Townsends at the Symphony, and the Chapins duck hunting in North Dakota. On another page Erica stopped at Ann Landers' column, then mentally began com 3 posing a letter of her own: My problem, Ann, is a married woman's clicW. There are jokes about it, but the jokes are made by people it isn't hap pening to. The plain truth is-if I can speak frankly as one woman to another-I'm simply not getting enough . . . Just lately I've not been getting any . . . With an impatient, angry gesture Erica crumpled the newspaper and pulled the bedclothes aside, She slid from the bed and went to the window where she tugged vigorously at the blind cord so that full daylight streamed in. Her eyes searched the room for a brown alligator handbag she had used yesterday; it was on a dressing table. Opening the bag, she riffled through until she found a small, leather-covered notebook which she took-turning pages as she went-to a telephone by Adam's side of the bed. She dialed quickly-before she could change her mind-the number she had found in the book. As she finished, Erica found her hand trembling and put it on the bed to steady herself. A woman's voice answered, "Detroit Bearing and Gear .”
    Erica asked for the name she had written in the notebook, in handwriting so indecipherable that only she could read it. "What department is he in .”
    "I think-sales .”
    "One moment, please .”
    Erica could still hear the vacuum cleaner somewhere outside. At least, while that continued, she could be sure Mrs. Gooch was not listening. There was a click and another voice answered, though not the one she sought. She repeated the name she had asked for. "Sure, he's here .”
    She heard the voice call "Ollie! " An answering voice said, "I g ot it," then, more clearly, "Hell o .”
    -Miss is Erica .”
    She added uncertainly, "You know; we met . . .”
    "Sure, sure; I know. Where are you .”
    "At home .”
    What number .”
    She gave it to him. "Hang up. Call you right back .”
    Erica waited nervously, wondering if she would answer at all, but when the ring back came,