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much the same schedule so it just happened. But now that George was on a radiology elective and Pia was holed up in Rothman’s lab, he knew that the chances they’d run into each other by accident were slim. But why he was bothering to ask her he had no idea, since he knew it wasn’t going to happen. And why was he always so damned accommodating?
    “Sorry, George, I can’t make plans,” she said. “Yesterday I had to spend the entire day and come back at night to work on one of Rothman’s journal articles, and it still isn’t done. On top of that I’ll be meeting with him sometime to find out what he has in store for me for the entire month. I seriously doubt I’ll even be getting lunch.”
     
     
    P ia was unhappy to see that the pesky maintenance man was still in her office. He was up the stepladder again, only facing a different direction this time. The day before, as she had worked on Rothman’s paper on one of the benches out in the lab proper, she’d noticed that he’d left at twelve and didn’t come back for four hours. At that rate she worried about him being there pestering her and keeping her from her cubbyhole for a week. Her office was small, but it was hers and she could leave her stuff spread out on the countertops, something she couldn’t do in the main lab.
    Pia made enough noise dropping her bag on her tool-littered desk to ensure Vance knew she was there and not particularly happy. “Hey, you up there,” she called out.
    Vance pulled his head down into the room and, seeing Pia, climbed down, smiling, rubbing his hands on a rag. “Ah, Miss Grazdani! How are you today? I missed you yesterday when I left.”
    “I noticed you took a four-hour lunch. You should have told me you’d be away so long. I could have been working here in my office. Anyway, yesterday you thought you’d be finished. What’s up? How long is this going to take?”
    “The job is turning out to be more difficult than I had thought. All I can really say is that I’m trying my best. As soon as I figure out what the hell is wrong, I’ll knock it right out and be outa here.”
    Pia merely sighed irritably and lifted her bag.
    “Miss Pia, I’ve got a surprise for you. I made an extra sandwich today for lunch, one for me and one for you. How about joining me for a bite? I make a wicked pastrami sandwich on a ciabatta roll. What do you say?”
    He was smiling again. Jesus, men were so predictable. Pia glowered: Was this guy suffering from delusions? She wasn’t staying to find out nor did she want to encourage the man.
    “Just hurry the hell up with the job. Please!” she snapped. As far as the sandwich offer was concerned, she didn’t even want to acknowledge it.
    Pia turned and stepped back into the main lab. She put her bag on the bench area where she’d worked the previous day. But instead of jumping right in, she walked back to Marsha’s desk to find out where their leader was that morning. To her surprise, she learned that Rothman was in his office and waiting for her. Pleased, Pia hurried in through the open door. Immediately she noticed he was dealing with the same maintenance inconvenience Overhead, a number of ceiling tiles were missing and spaghetti-like wires dangled from the holes. An assortment of tools dotted one of the countertops and a few were scattered on the floor. In the corner was a stepladder leaning against the wall and the security camera was missing from its mounting.
    “Good morning, Dr. Rothman,” Pia chirped. She never knew what to expect mood-wise but hoped for the best. “Marsha said you were expecting me.”
    “Miss Grazdani. How do you spell ‘catheter’?” Rothman demanded, not even bothering to look up from the sheet of paper he was holding. She could tell it was part of the Lancet manuscript she’d worked on.
    “C-A-T-H-E-T-E-R. Why?”
    “Well, it seems you know how to spell it, so I’m wondering why you felt the need to make up an alternative version for my