Page 56 of CHOICE Lover
He huffs. “How about ice cream?”
“We were just robbed at gunpoint, and you want ice cream?” How is he not lagging from the aftermath of an adrenaline spike like a normal person? “That’s it. You’re definitely a robot. What about your leg?”
He gives her an exasperated groan. “It’s fully healed, and even if I still had some lingering pain, it wouldn’t be enough to prevent us from getting ice cream.” When she doesn’t respond, he adds, “We can go to the lake simulation I told you about—not the holo-lake center. This one’s in the simulation chamber in my tower.”
At this point, she’s feeling a little lightheaded and jittery from the adrenaline overload. A private lake simulation might be nice. She nods, understanding. “Because water is soothing.”
“Exactly! You’re welcome to congratulate me on my excellent idea.” He offers her a sly grin, and she wonders if he’s pretending like she’s a manupartner again, or just finally getting used to being around a real woman. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take my compliment.”
She laughs loudly. “That’s never going to happen, so don’t hold your breath.”
“Why would I hold my breath?” His eyes narrow. “Another metaphor?”
“Yeah. It’s a saying from my time—a hyperbole that means something is likely to take a long time if it ever even happens at all.”
“So no compliment then,” he mutters, brushing it off as if her idiosyncrasies are nothing more than a minor blip. “You’ll see. The simulation will help.”
She hates to admit it, but he’s probably right. Sleeping away her latest trauma isn’t the answer. She needs to be occupied so she doesn’t spiral. “Synthetic ice cream and faux nature sound great.”
His hand presses against the small of her back, and he guides her toward the elevators. She can’t help but soak in the grounding warmth of his touch, despite all the reasons it’s a capital-B Bad Idea. Speaking of bad ideas . . .
“Don’t we need to collect Chryl?”
Res6 grimaces. “I suppose.”
They collect Chryl, who has moved onto anabduction documentary,and head toward the SAT garages. It’s a twenty-minute ride between his office in M Quadrant and the residential A Quadrant tower, which houses the upscale simulation chambers along with his penthouse unit. With Chryl in tow, it feels much longer.
From the backseat, the manupartner vibrates with excitement. “I looove it when we go fast!”
“Recycling her is an option, correct?” Electra asks, smirking. Not that she really wants Chryl recycled; she’s not entirely convinced the manupartner isn’t something real-adjacent. She’d just rather Chryl not be around all the time.
“I’m fine with that too.” Chryl reaches forward, squeezing Res6’s shoulders. “Whatever my handsome man needs.”
He ignores Chryl, addressing Electra instead. “I thought you were eager to leave the lab.”
“I would have gladly stayed another ten minutes to get the deal done.” She glances over her shoulder at the perpetually grinning woman. “No offense, Chryl.”
“None taken, hotcakes. We are feelings twins!”
Feelings twins? Oh God, Chryl must mean they’re thinking the same thing. She really ought to ask if manupartners have ever murdered their owners. Or their owner’s other manupartners. The thought might not be concerning outside of Chryl’s sudden interest in murder and abduction.
When no one speaks for an extended pause, Chryl fills the silence. “I loooove ice cream. I can’t wait to try it.”
Electra shakes off the thought. Chryl probably doesn’t even understand half of what she’s saying.
When they exit the SAT, the same blonde attendant from before rushes out to greet them. “Welcome home, sir!”
The attendant’s eyes widen as he opens the back door and helps Chryl out. He escorts her around the SAT and takes Electra’s hand, while Chryl takes his other arm. The attendant, now slack-jawed, lifts her phone, pointing it at them. Electra can only imagine what they look like to her.
Res6 holds up a hand. “No pictures, please.”
The woman lowers her device, frowning. Electra is about to give her a self-satisfied smile when she notices something on the woman’s face that wasn’t there earlier. She squeezes Res6’s hand to get his attention. She nods to the attendant and lowers her voice to ask, “Did she have a procedure to get freckles or are those drawn on?”
Res6’s nose wrinkles. “Not sure.”
The woman responds to their staring by lifting her chin as if she’s on display. “Do you like them?”
On Res6’s opposite side, Chryl bounces. “Oh, I get it. She got freckles like yours, Electra, to impress Daddy!”
