Rowan fired back on instinct, “And when was the last timeyouhad a boyfriend, real or mechanical?”
Raina maturely stuck her tongue out at him. “As forMilo,” she said pointedly, “it would be easier if you powered the bot down first—”
“I am not powering Milo down after a surge like that and risking an accidental wipe. I just want to make sure it doesn’t feel any pain.”
“Pain?” Raina snickered. “It’s made of metal, plastic, synth-skin, and lube.”
Rowan resisted the urge to deny that claim—even though it was true. He was still concerned about Milo’s behavior that morning, especially considering the gasp after Rowan touched its lightning scars. And then just standing there by the window? Weird.
“But in that case,” Raina conceded, “tell it to disable its sensors for that specific area. Done and done. Think of it like…” She shifted her weight to spin her chair in a circle, lolling her head to the side as she came back around to meet eyes with Rowan like she didn’t have a care in the world. “A local anesthetic for a real person.”
Rowan cringed at the wording because it implied Milowasn’ta real person.
He wasn’t.
Itwasn’t.
“Head’s up.” Raina finally dropped her feet to the floor to slip back into her shoes, nodding over Rowan’s shoulder.
Rowan spun around to look too.
From where they sat, they could see above and below them through the slats of the metal grating that made up the floor and ceiling of the factory. Other stations like theirs also had pairs, but spaced out around the perimeter of the different floors, with the center reserved for the production line as the parts moved through assembly.
Meaning that, aside from someone being in the hallway on the way to and from the bathrooms or elevators, they rarely saw anyone else on their floor.
Director Andreas was headed their way.
“Is he early?” Raina asked as they stood to greet him.
“Nope. Right on time.”
Andrew Andreas was young but an impressively shrewd businessman. Tall, average in build but reasonably attractive, he had flawlessly styled brown hair and brown eyes to match.He was almost always attired in a navy-blue suit, and equally as often accompanied by his personal assistant bot, another M.I.L.O. unit but tailored to Andrew’s taste. In his case that was a distinguished and handsome man dressed pristinely in white, with dark green eyes and dark hair speckled with gray.
Not Rowan’s type, but well suited for a billionaire.
Assuming Andrew slept with it.
“Jay,” Andrew said as he came to a militaristic halt in front of them, barely acknowledging the bot despite speaking to it.
Hadn’t its name been Ray last time?
“Who do we have next?”
Whatever its name, the bot dutifully pointed its tablet toward Andrew.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rangecroft,” Andrew read with a brief glance at it. “A married couple?” he asked with a thinly veiled sneer.
“Siblings, sir,” Raina said.
“Ah,” he replied, as if deeply uninterested and scanned the tablet again. “Both of you are exemplary employees with impressive reviews spanning years, with Raina Rangecroft nearly at fifteen, and Ronan Rangecroft having hit a full decade with us only a few months ago. Well done.”
“Um, it’sRowan, sir,” Rowan corrected.
Andrew held his gaze, shifting from disinterest to annoyance.
Great.
“Well, I see no red flags or concerns with either of you.” Andrew gave another brief scroll of the tablet. “So we can keep this short. As veteran employees of Andreas Tech, I have only one question: Anything new for me?”
