THE PERSONNEL MANAGER wore a perfectly-tailored suit. He strode across the lobby floor toward Ish, his hand outstretched.
“Martin Isherwood!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “I’m very glad to meet you!”
“I’ll bet,” Ish said dryly, giving the Personnel Manager’s hand a short shake. “I’ve got other ideas. I want out.”
“That’s all he’s been saying for the past forty-five minutes, Sir,” the Receptionist said from behind her desk.
The Personnel Manager frowned. “Um. Yes. Well, that’s not unprecedented.”
“But hardly usual,” he added.
Ish found himself liking the man. He had a job to do, and after the preliminary formality of the greeting had been passed, he was ready to buckle down to it. Oh, he—shucks?—the Receptionist wasn’t such a bad girl, either. He smiled at her. “Sorry I lost my head
