Chapter 18
“I’m sorry for playing too competitively, I embarrassed you,” Rob said, as they walked back through town toward college.
“It’s fine,” she said, linking her arm through his. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. As they reached the Bodleian, Chloe checked her phone and saw she had a missed call from her parents.
“Do you mind if I just call my parents back?” she asked Rob.
“Of course not,” said Rob. “Why don’t I go ahead to the room, leave you to it. Physical exertion always takes it out of me, so I’m running a little…” He paused, blinked, stumbled slightly, then said, “Beep beep boop boop.”
“Rob?” she said, clutching his arm in alarm. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”
Rob’s face dissolved into a grin, then he started laughing. “Sorry, Chloe. You enjoy humor, and I could not resist.”
“That’s not funny. Don’t do that again,” she said, relief washing over her. She couldn’t handle him short-circuiting in public.
His face fell. “Was it a bit funny? I am trying to work on my sense of humor.”
“It was a bit funny,” she acknowledged, reaching for his hand, “but please don’t do it again.
” He gave her a guilty, goofy smile and kissed her on the cheek, then she waved him off.
She paused for a moment, watching him walk away, those broad shoulders narrowing into a trim waist, his perfect backside.
She sighed, then dialed her parents’ number.
“Hi, Chloe, how’s the reunion?” asked her father.
“Good, thanks, Dad. Nice to catch up with old friends.”
“I won’t keep you. We just had a question about sending you some money. Mum wants to pay you back our half of the shop you did last week.” Chloe did an internal eye roll. Her parents were sticklers for paying her back any time she spent money.
“Dad, I’m living with you for free, the least I can do is pay for the occasional shop.”
“No, no, we insist. It wasn’t even a Tesco’s shop, it was a Waitrose one. You bought all that fancy ham, and the marmalade Mum likes. Waitrose thick-cut is almost a day’s wages.”
“Dad, it was nine pounds.”
“Extortionate!” he cried. “Anyway, we won’t be arguing about it, I’m going to get you cash. Is that okay?”
“Dad, no. Do not go to the bank to get money out for me. You know you can do this at the click of a button on your phone now? You just log on to online banking, or Revolut me.” Chloe briefly closed her eyes. There was no world where her parents were going to trust Revolut.
“We don’t want you spending your hard-earned wages on our luxury marmalade and cashews. Cashews might as well be caviar, the price of them these days.”
“What’s going on? Why are you insisting on giving me money all of a sudden?” she asked suspiciously.
Her dad paused, then cleared his throat. “Mum opened a bill addressed to you. It was a mistake, she thought it was for one of her magazines.”
Chloe felt her chest constrict. She wasn’t expecting any bills.
“What bill? Who from?”
Her dad cleared his throat. “I’m putting your mother on.”
“Darling, we’re not here to judge you,” said her mum. “What you choose to spend your money on is your business. We know you’ve been lonely since things ended with Peter.”
Chloe closed her eyes, pausing in the street to lean against some railings. “Sorry, who was this bill from?”
“Perfect Partners,” her mother said. “We looked them up.” Oh no.
Chloe’s mind raced. Why would Perfect Partners be sending her a bill? She was on a free trial. And how had her parents looked them up when there was nothing about them online?
“These sex lines just want you to stay on the phone as long as possible, darling, that’s how they get your money,” her mother hissed down the phone.
“Tell her about the porn,” she heard her father whisper in the background.
“Porn? What porn?” Chloe muttered.
“Not that we know about these things, darling. But Tim Ridgway at number nine says there’s a lot of free pornography you can access on the internet. All sorts of things, catering for women as well as men. You know, rather than having to pay a premium for it.”
Chloe covered her face with a hand, feeling she must be beetroot.
“Okay, I have not been paying for sex lines or premium porn, Mum. I think you must be confused with Perfect Partnerz with a ‘Z’; this is with an ‘S,’ and it’s an introduction service.
Nothing” she searched for the right word “racy.” Though as she said it, she realized it wasn’t exactly true.
Rob was designed to be very racy if she wanted him to be.
“Oh thank goodness,” her mum said. “We were worried you might have developed an addiction.”
“How much is the bill for?” Chloe asked, having to put aside her mortification for long enough to get some answers.
“Four hundred pounds,” her mother said. “I hope you get introduced to an awful lot of men for that.”
“Tell her about the addicts’ group in Richmond community center,” she heard her father say.
“She says she’s not an addict. She says it’s an introduction service.”
“Mum, Dad, I have to go. The bill must be a mistake, I’ll have to call and find out what’s happened. Thanks for letting me know, and please, please do not go to the bank to get me marmalade money.”
As soon as she’d hung up, she dialed Avery’s number.
“Hello,” Avery said. “Everything okay, Chloe?”
“Why have you sent me a bill for four hundred pounds? I thought I was on a free trial,” she said, voice full of indignation.
“Use of our technology is free, yes, but there are charges for incidentals.” There was a clicking sound as Avery checked something on a computer.
Why was she sitting at her computer on a Saturday afternoon?
“Dinner, Chez Roque; Vinted purchase, one silk cocktail dress; protein shakes; phone bill; flower shop; Starbucks. You will be invoiced for all the purchases your Perfect Partner makes. This was made clear in the terms and conditions.” She paused.
“You can change your settings to a ‘no purchase’ option, but we find that emasculates the BoiBots. There is also an option to approve each spending item on the app, if you go to settings.” Avery paused again.
“For the majority of our clients, this isn’t a problem. ”
Chloe swallowed. She felt so stupid. Rob had talked about his job so believably; she’d just assumed he really did make money doing computer programming.
But since there was no such thing as a free lunch, clearly there was no such thing as a free robot boyfriend who bought you dresses and coffees and flowers and books.
She really should have read all those terms and conditions.
“At the end of the trial, if you sign up for our subscription service, there are ways you can recoup costs,” Avery went on, as though following Chloe’s thought pattern. “But we don’t offer that until you’re committed to the program long-term.”
“What do you mean ‘recoup costs’?” Chloe asked, her skin prickling.
“Rob is a valuable resource. When he’s not with you, he could be doing any number of paid tasks—writing copy for websites, manning call centers, even performing minor surgeries.
There’s a lot of tedious red tape to get through, but we can help with all that.
” Avery paused. “The downside is, if you put him to work, he won’t be as accessible to you, you might compromise on bandwidth.
And our primary goal is to have someone a hundred percent dedicated to you and your needs.
” Avery sounded like she was reading a script.
“However, if cost is an issue for you, we can discuss ways to help you make this commitment long-term.”
Chloe felt sick to her stomach. This is why there weren’t any fairy tales about dating robots. It rather killed the romance if your story ended, “And then she set up a long-term payment plan so she could afford the bandwidth for her happy ending.”
“This is an investment in your future, Chloe,” Avery went on.
“Our data shows that having a perfect partner increases a client’s earnings by an average of thirty-four percent, so really this pays for itself.
Clients also notice an improvement to their health, their confidence.
What price would you put on being happy, successful… loved?”
Chloe felt like there was a Rubik’s cube in her brain, each twist trying to align the colors of right and wrong.
Morally, ethically, this felt off. But Avery had a point.
Rob had helped her stand up for herself with McKenzie, and he was making her stick to her latest health kick.
He wasn’t just a romantic partner; he was a coach, a mentor, a therapist. And even though these new feelings for John were muddying the water, and the number of cons on her pros and cons list was growing, the thought of having to give him back made her feel uneasy.
Like the feeling you got when you lost your phone, the quiet, gnawing sense of being without something you hadn’t realized you were depending on.
“We’ll talk about your financial options on Monday,” Avery said breezily. “In the meantime, if you’re worried about expenditures, just change the settings on the app.”
Chloe hung up, feeling the unease return like an incoming tide as she walked in circles around the Rad Cam.
This felt like that time she got addicted to TikTok after her breakup with Peter.
She knew it wasn’t healthy, but she couldn’t stop scrolling, distracting herself from reality, anything not to feel the emptiness.
Was Rob TikTok? No, no, he wasn’t. Because Rob was a good influence; he was pushing her to be the person she wanted to be.
But what about John, this spark she felt between them?
She frowned. She didn’t know if that was real, it could be all in her head.
After walking around the Rad Cam eight times and coming no closer to any clarity, she did the only thing she could think of: she called Wendy.
“Let me guess, you went back,” Wendy said, her voice gloating.