“If we have to go through and edit Sparky’s work anyway, how does this save us time?”
“Are you aware your AI uses an obscene amount of water? It’s bad for the environment!”
“What happens if we refuse to use it?”
And on and on it went. To Max and Rashid’s credit, they answered everyone’s questions to the best of their ability while referring other questions to Miles.
“Unlike other websites, Sparky isn’t creating posts that just go live without any human eyes on them,” Max said. “In fact, Sparky isn’t really creating anything at all. It’s just there as a tool to help while you’re creating your posts. So, rather than having to leave the CMS to google something, you can put into Sparky something like, ‘Add all the zodiac signs,’ and it’ll pull sourced images for you. Or if you want a list of the highest paid actors, it’ll drop that in for you. And then you’ll go in and tweak it with your own copy and ideas.”
This seemed to make sense to Stella, but she, just like everyone else in the room, had heard about how “AI writers” were replacing real writers across the digital space, so she was hesitant to believe this Sparky thing was really for their benefit. And she wasn’t the only one.
“As for whether or not you have to use it,” Max had continued, “Miles has made no indication that you all have to use it, and if you prefer to continue to make your own posts and not work with Sparky, that is your prerogative. However, the more you use Sparky, the smarter and better it becomes and the more helpful it will be.”
Effie had scoffed at that. “Right, and the easier it’ll be for it to replace us.”
Murmurs of agreement went around the room, and Max and Rashid had exchanged a long look before finally ending the office hours, with Max making a declaration that he would discuss their questions with Miles and hopefully come back with more concrete answers on Monday.
Stella had lingered in the conference room, debating if she should say something to Max, but when Effie looked at her and mouthed, “What are you doing?” Stella quickly scurried away. She hadn’t yet told anyone about Max, and she didn’t think the office was the best place to do so.
Especially because the office hours only seemed to make everyone’s opinion of Max (and by association, Rashid) even worse.
As much as Stella wanted to ignore the various conversations about AIX and Sparky, it was difficult when everyone around her had something to say, including Effie, who for once was also incredibly distracted from her work.
“This is how it always starts,” she’d said. “First, they bring in this little robot thing, and next, they’re kicking us to the curb so they can still get content without having to pay us for it. This is the beginning of the end.”
Stella frowned. “What happened to not worrying about something that hasn’t occurred yet?”
Effie rolled her eyes as if Stella was being naive.
“Itishappening, Stells,” Effie said. “Best start prepping your résumé.”
Stella did not start prepping her résumé.
Perhaps she was being naive, as Effie had suggested, but she’d tried to do her places-to-lose-your-virginity post with Sparky, and it spit out the most random places, like the M&M’s Store in Times Square and the Staten Island Ferry. She soon realized it was pulling ideas from a Reddit thread about the wildest places people had had sex.
Not exactly what she was going for.
Once she’d seen that, Stella couldn’t believe this AI thingcould really replace their entire staff. Sure, their team wasn’t writing Pulitzer Prize–winning articles or anything, but they each brought something special to their work that this Sparky machine simply couldn’t.
Also, Stella couldn’t even consider that she was about to sleep with someone who could be responsible for causing her and her friends to lose their jobs. Her brain simply wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she was determined to focus on what she did know was happening: she was going to have sex with Max tonight.
Penetrative sex.
With a condom.
And no interruptions.
In hindsight, Stella knew she should’ve knocked on wood.
At the start, it seemed that everything was going perfectly. She’d arrived at Max’s building, which was on the Upper West Side, right across the street from Central Park. Based on location alone, Stella would bet Max paid more in rent than she made in a year.
Perhaps if she did lose her job she could marry Max and joinThe Real Housewives of New York City. Just kidding. That would be crazy.
Unless…
Stella shook her head, dismissing thoughts of marriage from her mind, as she strode up to the doorman, whose name tag said “Ernesto.”
Max had told her to let him know when she was close by so he could come down and get her, which she’d done. But shecould tell he wasn’t standing in the lobby yet, so she approached Ernesto.
