Free Grave Intentions by Lori Sjoberg Page A

glass.
    “You can’t have that in here,” Sarah said, motioning to the cup in Jackie’s left hand. “We’ve had enough problems with contaminants.”
    Jackie gave Sarah a pained look. “Oh come on, you’ve got to be kidding. It’s coffee, not Ebola.”
    “Sorry, but I can’t take any chances. Pitch it.”
    Jackie took one last chug before dumping the cup in the receptacle by the door. “There. Happy?”
    “Very. Thank you.”
    Jackie leaned a hip against the prep table. “So how’s your neighbor doing?”
    “As far as I know, better,” Sarah replied as she picked up another sterilized slide. With a practiced precision, she secured the cell culture to the slide and coated it with a thick, yellow chemical solution.
    “I still can’t believe he’s gay.” Jackie made an unladylike sound in the back of her throat. “That’s a crime against single women.”
    “Believe it,” Sarah replied, never taking her eyes off her work. She had mixed feelings about her neighbor’s orientation. Mostly, she was disappointed, like when you opened a present on Christmas morning and found a pair of socks instead of the necklace you’d been wishing for. But part of her was relieved. At this stage in her career she had neither the time nor the inclination to entangle herself in a romantic relationship. Maybe she’d be ready in another year or so, once the clinical trials were well under way. Until then, she’d have to settle for enjoying the scenery next door.
    In a rare show of skepticism, Jackie asked, “What makes you so sure he’s pitching for the other team?”
    “Well, let’s see. He’s living with another guy in a one-bedroom apartment. There’s only one bed. And last time I saw them together, they were looking pretty cozy.”
    Jackie’s nose crinkled. “Cozy how? Were they kissing?”
    “No.”
    “Holding hands?”
    Sarah shook her head.
    “Giving each other the big doe eyes?” Jackie batted her eyes for dramatic effect.
    That one made Sarah laugh. “No, of course not.”
    “Then what makes you so sure they’re playing hide the salami?”
    “I don’t know,” Sarah said with a shrug. She reached for her journal, hoping Jackie wouldn’t notice the blush heating her cheeks. “I got this . . . feeling. Like there was something going on between them.”
    “Maybe they’re good buddies.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “Maybe you should ask them, just to make sure,” Jackie suggested.
    “I’m sure that would go over really well.” Sarah jotted down the tag number for the slide in her journal. She finished the process by carefully placing the specimen in the slide box to minimize the risk of contamination.
    “Why wouldn’t it? If they’re a couple like you think, they shouldn’t have a problem with you asking.”
    “And if they’re not?” She could only imagine their reaction.
    “Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of them will want to prove his masculinity.” Jackie flashed a wicked grin. “Maybe both.”
    “Good lord.” Sarah shook her head and forced back a laugh. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage her. “It’s not even nine in the morning. Could you please wait until at least noon before letting your brain veer into the gutter?”
    “Can’t help it,” Jackie said with a shrug. “It’s part of my charm.”
    “Yeah, well get your charms over here. I need to get the specimens from the variable groups onto labeled slides before Angelo gets back from his meeting with Research and Development. Which will be in . . .” She paused to check the clock on the far wall. “. . . About three hours.”
    Jackie crossed over to the sinks and scrubbed her hands. “Your wish is my command.”
    Hours later, Sarah was busy setting up the final batch of slides when she felt a hand press against the small of her back and a silky Italian accent murmured, “You never called,” into her ear.
    “Jesus!” Sarah jerked back, coming dangerously close to knocking the tray of slides to the floor.