Page 14 of Breaking Point
“While you whizz by on the Artery each day, from one end of the ship to the other, by-passing the plebians.”
His brow furrowed.
“Sorry, that was a cheap shot,” she said.
“Followed by an immediate apology…” he muttered.His gaze met hers.“And this is why I don’t want to undo anything.There are depths in you.”
She shivered.“No, there aren’t.Brice, get this out of your head.We can’t…whatever you’re thinking about.It wouldn’t work.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Whatareyou thinking, anyway?”she demanded.If it was just more sex, business-opponents-with-benefits, that would be…well, she wasn’t sure she liked that idea from a business perspective.Anything beyond that was edging into relationship territory, and that was just ridiculous.So, first, she had to know what he was thinking so she could dismantle his argument one piece at a time.
“Why do you want the stalls, anyway?”he asked.It was unexpected.
She wanted to say it was none of his business.Because it wasn’t.And if she told him the real reason, he might use it as leverage to say no.
However, she couldn’t push through to the end of this uncomfortable conversation and be able to leave if she threw up blocks and refused to answer his questions.If she cooperated just a little, that would hurry things along.
“Once I have bought your five stalls, I will be the largest commerce management company on the ship,” she said truthfully.
“Hmm.”His gaze shifted away from her.She sensed he was disappointed.
“Why won’t you sell them?”she returned, not liking the implied criticism.“They’re so badly managed they can’t be making any money for you.”
His gaze shifted back to her.“Is that so?”
“It is,” she said as calmly as she could.“Do you even check in with the managers?They’re lazy and have no idea how to sell.The product displays aren’t maximized for the space, so they lead the customer’s gaze along the stall, and the signage is awful—” She made herself halt.“Anyway, you would be off-loading a negative asset.”
“They’re not for sale.”He said it flatly.
“Just to me, or to anyone?”she asked curiously.
He moved back around the counter and did something with the metal container with the pasta in it.Then he picked up the whole container and turned around to the sink against the wall and poured everything into the sink.
Luciana’s lips parted as her jaw sagged.Did he just…throw away the pasta?
He put the container on the counter beside the sink, then reached in and picked up another metal container, this one with holes in it.Water poured through the holes.
Oh…Her mental voice was pathetic.She felt just a little bit stupid.
He shook the container a few times, until water stopped running, then brought it over to the counter.
Luciana got to her feet to watch, for she couldn’t see anything, sitting down.Two white bowls sat on the counter, there.Neither of them had utensils attached, the way the printer food came.He used an enormous spoon to scoop pasta into the bowls.That matched how the spaghetti appeared when it was printed.Now, sauce would go on top, she presumed.
Brice put the holed container beside the sink, then carefully stepped back to the counter, and took the lid off another container, much smaller than the one that had cooked the pasta.Almost immediately, Luciana could smell garlic and the wonderful aroma of spaghetti sauce.The scent was slightly different than the standard smell of spaghetti the food printers produced.
He used the same big spoon to ladle sauce on top of the pasta.The sauce looked chunkier than she was used to, yet it was the same general color, and the aroma was making her mouth water.
From a drawer on his side of the counter, he produced two forks and two spoons.He handed Luciana a fork and spoon.Then he called, “Crunch!”
The bot rolled around the corner and over to where Brice was standing.“Waiter mode,” he told it.
Luciana couldn’t see what the bot was doing for “waiter mode,” for it was short.Brice lifted both bowls down to it.Then he said, “The sofas, please.”
“Okay, Brice,” the bot replied.Luciana heard it rolling once more and moved to the end of the counter to watch it reappear.The flat section on the top of the bot, which had slid back to reveal the glasses of wine, was closed once more.The two bowls sat on the flat surface.The bot was perfectly upright, instead of leaning back a little.It trundled over to the sofa-and-armchairs arrangement and halted.
Brice was already moving over there himself, his fork and spoon in his other hand.
