Chapter 41
The emcee’s soliloquy on Automata’s state-of-the-art programming stumbled as Sam stalked past with Ophelia in his arms, but he recovered quickly. By the time they reached the edge of the stage, the curtain had begun to fall.
An angry Tiffany stormed over to them in her white lab coat, her holopad in hand.
“What the hell was that?” she asked, squaring up to him.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Ophelia tensed in his arms, and he knew she must fear recognition, but Tiffany looked right through her.
“Put her down,” Tiffany said, distracted by whatever she was pulling up on her holopad.
“And give me your tether. I’m not letting you off the auction floor until I’ve double-checked your code.
You shouldn’t be able to walk off like that.
The last thing we need is a defective bot fresh off the line. ”
“Tiff!” Logan jogged over to them, red-faced and covered in a sheen of nervous sweat.
“I said put her down,” Tiffany said impatiently, ignoring Logan as she glanced up at Sam.
For a moment, he contemplated refusing. Ophelia was trembling in his arms, clearly still in need of comfort, but acting out of character now would make the brave act she’d endured all for nothing.
Despite how it pained him, he lowered her to the ground.
He braced a hand on the small of her back when she swayed on her feet.
“Tiffany, I’ve got this,” Logan said again, physically stepping between them. “Just leave it, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. Who the hell approved all of that? Anal play? The tongue thing? This is supposed to be a universally appealing demonstration. What part of a three-foot tongue strikes you as universally appealing, Logan?”
Ophelia loosed a delirious little snort. All three of them turned to look at her in surprise. She looked away, clearing her throat.
“I’ll look into it,” Logan said, turning his attention back to his girlfriend.
He looked so wan and miserable. It wasn’t nearly as much suffering as he deserved for what he’d done to Ophelia, but it gave Sam some small satisfaction.
“When is the auction?” Ophelia asked hoarsely.
Tiffany did a double-take at her. Her penciled brows furrowed. “You…”
“Soon,” Logan answered quickly. “You should go… clean up.”
“Logan, what is she—”
“Leave it,” he said harshly, glaring at Tiffany.
She recoiled as though he’d struck her. Her bottom lip trembled, but then her expression turned thunderous. “This was not the deal,” she hissed. “I want to know what she’s doing here right now.”
Ophelia snatched off her mask, glaring down at Tiffany from the few extra inches her high heels lent her.
“I’m here to buy an android, the details of which are none of your fucking business. Press your luck, if you’d like. I’m sure my father’s fixers would be interested to hear about the Automata employee who’s been actively working to extort his company.”
Tiffany gaped, her mouth working in wordless indignation. She whipped her head toward Logan. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
Logan cast her a weary look. “Yes, Tiff.”
Tiffany’s anger seemed to be building upon itself, swirling into something that would destroy both her and anything caught in her radius. She jabbed a finger at Ophelia. “Let me be clear. The only way you’re walking out of here with one of my bots is over my dead body.”
Something flickered in Ophelia’s eyes. A strange, placid calm spread over her, stilling the faint trembling of her limbs. Then, as fast as a whip, her hand shot out and cracked across Tiffany’s cheek hard enough to make her stagger.
She ducked to meet Tiffany’s gaze, where she was doubled over.
“Let me be clear. I am leaving here tonight with this android. Do you understand me? I will make a very generous bid on him, the kind that will inspire your boss to write you a big bonus check this Christmas, and you will carry on with your sad, conniving little life like I never figured out that you were willing to destroy mine.”
Ophelia leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose.
“But if you’re sure, really sure, that the only way I leave this auction house with my android is over your dead body?
” Her face lit with a venomous smile that made Sam’s cock twitch.
“I am sure it can be arranged. What do you say, Tiffany? Am I making a bid tonight?”
The blonde woman straightened, turning her head to spit blood on the polished floor. She stormed off without answering.
Logan cursed. “I’ll handle this. Just get changed and get back to your seat.” He hustled off after the other woman, giving them a moment of respite alone.
A few people bustled around backstage with them—mostly androids. One of them walked by with the sheets they’d just soiled bundled up in his arms. Ophelia flushed at the sight.
“Come with me,” he murmured, taking her by the elbow and leading her behind a pile of props. When they were alone, he cupped her flushed face in both hands.
“I hit her,” she said in a stunned tone. When she looked up at him with baleful eyes, they held none of the violence he’d seen moments ago.
“You did.” He leaned down and kissed her. “It was glorious.”
She huffed at him disapprovingly, but she swayed into his arms anyway, pressing her cheek against his bare chest and winding her arms around his waist. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“Mmm. I recorded the whole thing to my data bank.”
She tugged back to stare up at him in abject horror. “You—”
“I backed it up twice, too.”
She shoved at him, but she only managed to make herself unsteady on her legs.
He caught her around the waist, chuckling under his breath. “Don’t worry. It’s for my own personal enjoyment. I’ve no intention of blackmailing you, beautiful.” He contemplated it for a moment. “Well, actually—”
She hit him again, and this time he extended her the grace of pretending to be wounded by it. “You’re not funny.”
That made him frown. “Why would you say that? I have an excellent grasp on humor.”
She pulled away from him, replacing her mask with a surly look before storming away.
He trailed after her, whispering in her wake. “Ophelia? Take it back. I am very amusing. Admit it. Ophelia—”
He drew up short when she reached the door to the ladies’ room. A woman walked out just as she went in, frowning at him as she straightened her Automata lab coat.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him in a voice meant for a child. “You should be back in line with the others. You’re Thirty-One, aren’t you? Yes, I remember.”
Ophelia stopped in the bathroom just behind the woman, who was busily fussing over his barcode. Her face lit with a wicked grin, and she flashed him a single finger before the automatic door sealed shut between them.
Oh, she…
“What are you smiling about?” the annoying woman asked, glancing over her shoulder at the sealed door. “Oh, whatever. Who knows how those glorified tweens are programming you guys these days? Come on, then.”
Thrumming with annoyance, he followed the employee back to the stage, where he stood in line and stared at the seat where Ophelia had first emerged.
He couldn’t see more than the vague outline of her figure when she finally returned from the restroom, but it was enough for him.
He didn’t look away for the rest of the hour.