Chapter 33
He thinks the command: Message Electra. No more interesting messages to get me through the day?
After fifteen minutes, she still hasn’t responded.
She’s probably napping. Her sleep schedule is a bit erratic.
He did some research and read that having odd sleep habits is common with creatives like her.
While he waits for her reply, he rereads his favorite scenario she sent him: Scene idea.
After a hard day’s work, MMC falls asleep on the couch.
Wakes up to FMC swirling her tongue around the crown of his growing erection.
Licking up the pre-cum already beaded there.
She grins, because they both know how eager she is for more.
Every time he reads her little narratives, his cock takes notice. He shoves the feeling away. Having a hard-on while Tommy is sitting across the desk from him would be incredibly inappropriate.
Think about the sales figures.
He refocuses on the numbers on his screen.
While they’re good, they weren’t as good as he hoped based on dragging Electra and Chryl out in public at every opportunity.
At first there was a spike, aligning with what he expected, but then they evened out, showing a slight increase overall compared to the prior five years.
He runs a hand over his face, massaging his temples.
“This is because of the GROW reincarnate scare, isn’t it? ”
Tommy looks up from his tablet. He stares at Res6 across the desk, blinking.
“GROW reincarnates—Tommy. Are you listening?”
Tommy shakes his head. “Yes, sir. The reincarnate scare is likely affecting public trust. Would you like to put out a statement?”
“I should report them. I have some information I could give Inspector Wanda that might demonstrate to the public how we’re working with the authorities to rebuild—”
Tommy’s eyes glaze over. Is he paler than normal? A few seconds pass before his attention clears. “Perhaps reporting GROW isn’t such a wise choice, considering . . .”
Res6’s brows shoot up. “Considering what?”
“If someone were to find out about Electra’s nature.” Tommy emphasizes the word nature.
Why is he being vague? Is he worried about getting fired like Lextr?
Perhaps he should reassure him at some point.
Of everyone he knows, Tommy is the least likely to do something suspicious.
He sighs, taking pity on the man—Electra must be rubbing off on him.
“You mean that she’s a reincarnate? Yes, I’m quite aware of the risks, but that isn’t something you need to worry about. I have her identity under control.”
Tommy frowns, looking away as a message pops up on Res6’s screen.
“Tommy, why are you messaging me when I’m sitting right here?” Curious—because when is he ever not curious—he opens it. It’s a forwarded NewNewsletter. “What’s this?”
“Scroll down.”
Res6 does, freezing when he reaches an avatar that looks an awful lot like Electra. Beneath it is a headline: “What does MSP’s new advice influencer know that you don’t?”
Heat crawls up his neck as he scans the article.
Dear Electra has taken MSP by storm . . . giving out advice, encouraging relationships between humans . . . with Electra’s advice, will manupartners become a thing of the past? . . . only time will tell, but in the meantime, this reporter plans to get the exclusive.
He finishes the article and shoots out of the chair. “I’ll take care of this. Then I’ll get that inspector in here and deal with GROW and our public trust issue.”
As the SAT zips across the city, he can’t stop thinking that she’s not only putting herself and his company at risk, her column is impacting his sales.
If MSP found out she was a manupartner and that they’d brought her back more or less intentionally, NHOS would fine him at minimum.
Possibly shut them down. That means no more CHOICElover, the thing he’s worked tirelessly on his entire life.
Plus, he’d lose the chance to bring Jerme back.
Two more chances. That’s all he has left. Yet after the last heartbreaking failure—the look in his brother’s eyes as he whispered Make it stop—his throat constricts.
But he’s come this far. He can’t give up now. So what if it takes every last sample to get it right? He owes Jerme that much. He owes it to himself because, for one fleeting minute, having his brother back gave his life meaning.
The memory evokes the same jolt of meaning he felt later that night. He’d fallen into welcoming arms, and they’d tethered him—almost like he mattered. Like his existence meant something to someone. Like he mattered to her.
Damn it, Electra. He can’t let anything happen to her.
Suddenly, all the doubt and dread he pushed aside flood back in. By the time he exits the SAT, he’s practically trembling with a dangerous mix of anger and despair.
He throws the door open only to come face-to-face with the man he’d do anything to bring back.
“Hi Res6. You don’t look good. Would you like to sit down? We can talk about it.”
His heart thuds painfully. Then it hits him. His gaze slashes to the closed door of Electra’s room, then to the spare room. The door is wide open. His stomach drops to his knees. Shit.
Take a deep breath. Maybe it isn’t what you think.
Slowly, he asks, “How’d you get out?”
The body double warily glances at the closed door. “I met Electra. Are you upset?” The manupartner’s attention drifts to where his fists are clenched at his sides.
“I am upset.”
“Good.” Res6 doesn’t turn his head away from the manupartner, but he can sense Electra standing in her doorway, staring daggers at him. “I’m upset too.” Her voice is a mirror of his own, full of venom-laced agony.
“Unit, please go back to your room and give us a moment.”
The manupartner walks by, placing a hand on Res6’s shoulder.
It’s so like what Jerme would have done, he has to bite back tears.
When the door finally closes behind it, he turns to Electra.
She’s clearly pissed at what she thinks she discovered, but he doesn’t care.
She’s been lying to him too about her column.
Now she’s breached his trust by breaking into his locked room.
He’s never felt so violated. She opens her mouth, but he doesn’t give her a chance to start.
“You trespassed! You’re writing an advice column that undermines my life’s work.
You’re splattering your likeness and name across the network, putting both of us at risk of getting caught for what you are.
Did you think no one would connect that the woman writing the trendy new column has an avatar that looks a lot like my latest manupartner?
” he hisses, watching as her cheeks redden with anger. “What do you have to be mad about?”
Her eyes narrow as she steps into the room. “I’m so glad you asked.”