George jumped up to be introduced. The deck was dimly lit but George could see how stunning this woman was. He was pleased—Berman had an impressive girlfriend.

“Miss Jones is my valued assistant. This is Dr. Wilson, who has come with Pia. I asked Miss Jones to join us to even up the numbers.”

So much for having a girlfriend, George lamented silently.

“Welcome to Boulder,” said Whitney to George. She came around and sat to George’s right; Pia and then Berman were to his left. Berman adjusted his seat closer to Pia and started talking to her. George took a deep draft of the vodka tonic that had just been brought to him. He felt he was going to need some alcohol to get through the evening.

“Thank you,” said George to Whitney, who crossed her legs, leaning into George’s space with both her person and her strong perfume. He strained to hear what Berman was talking to Pia about, but Berman was talking in low tones. Almost immediately he sensed Pia stiffen.

“So, Dr. Wilson, how do you like Los Angeles?”

In spite of his interest in what Pia and Berman were talking about, George found himself progressively pulled into conversation with Whitney Jones without a lot of effort. Her décolletage played a role, but more important from George’s perspective, she was interested in what he had to say and was interesting in return. Answering George’s numerous questions about Nano, she had reams of data at her fingertips. As absorbed as he was, George was unaware that his glass was being discreetly refilled, and was sorry when Ms. Jones excused herself to go check on the progress of dinner.

At that cue, Berman stood and walked over to the timber rail of his deck and looked out. “Not quite like Los Angeles, Dr. Wilson.”

“No, it’s not,” George said, casting a quick glance in Pia’s direction. She responded by rolling her eyes, which he had no way to interpret.

“Do you think it’s a good place to train in radiology?” Berman asked.

“The training is top notch,” George said. “But I’m not so sure the city is my cup of tea.”

“Maybe you should think about coming here to Boulder,” Berman said, still seemingly transfixed by the mountain scenery. “The University of Colorado has a superb program.”

“It’s a very attractive environment.” George looked back at Pia and silently mouthed “What?” Pia merely shook her head.

“I tried to get Pia to talk to me about her ordeal when she was kidnapped,” Berman said, before turning back to look directly at George. “She’s not interested in talking about it. I know you were involved, what can you tell me?”

As George tried to shift his mind into high gear, he realized he’d drunk more than he thought. He’d vaguely noticed that the level in his drink never went down thanks to the attentive staff, but hadn’t thought much of it. Despite his buzz, he remembered how strongly Pia felt about the kidnapping episode and how adverse she was to talking about it, even to him. He knew he had to be careful to stay in her good graces.