Another call from the area code 650. Ruslan sighed and Googled it.

"Who the hell do I know in San Francisco?" For the third time in an hour, he let the phone go to voicemail. "Of course, the one time I bring the phone into the gym some idiot keeps calling the wrong number."

He grabbed the bar and started pulling again. The woman at the next station quietly wiped off her handles and moved on.

"Probably the muttering," Ruslan said to himself before he forced his voice down. He was self-conscious about his internal monologue. Never got the hang of just thinking quietly to himself. A big part of why he loved the gym. When he concentrated at something he was good at - like lifting weights, or climbing, or coding - he didn't blurt things out. He didn't feel awkward. He didn't feel different.

The phone buzzed again.

"God," groaned Ruslan. He grabbed the phone hard enough to make the OtterBox cover squeak. (He'd learned his lesson about good phone covers after he snapped his old Blackberry in half.) He grabbed his towel and walked to the locker room.

Ruslan thumbed his phone. "Who is this?"

"Is this Ruslan Verov?"

"Who is this?" Ruslan was getting irritated. It happened easily, especially after working out, and he took a deep breath and let it out. "You want to be a father, learn to be patient," Alicia would say.

Ruslan could hear an awkward pause, a held breath, on the other end of the line. He'd said it out loud, in Alicia's voice.

"Mr. Verov, are you alone at the moment? Can we talk privately?"

"I am. Sorry."

The voice cleared its throat. A Chinese man, maybe 30, old accent almost gone. Ruslan had an ear for accents. "Mr. Verov, I'm Tully Cho. I work for DNYou. We've been working on your DNA sample?"

"Okay. Yes. Why are you calling?"

"Your results are... they're unique. They're quite unique, and we're not quite sure how to proceed. We'd like to fly you out here: First class, all expenses paid."

Cho was nervous. Ruslan couldn't help but press at nervous people. He didn't like it about himself, but it made him a good executive.

"Learned it as a wrestler, I guess."

"Sorry?"

"I'll have to talk to my wife." Ruslan chuckled nervously. "Team player. Learned it as a wrestler."

"Okay. Please call us tonight."

There was an odd click on the line.

"Will you call us back tonight, Mr. Verov?"

"I will."

He hung up. He showered and drove home. Alicia was in the kitchen, he could see. He grinned. Lamb chops. He stopped and frowned as he shouldered his duffel bag.

"I didn't ask how I was unique."