Page 5 of Fembot
The robot—Calvin—Cal, greeted them both, then turned his attention back to Winston. He seemed to know that Winston was his owner. Owner sounded wrong, though. It made Winston cringe to think of being an owner to something that could choose its own name. Winston would have to think of a better word for it. Sponsor maybe. Boss, perhaps. Anything was better than owner.
“What do you wish of me?” Cal asked Winston.
“Um, is your charging unit portable? Like, can it be relocated?”
“Yes.”
“Great, um, follow me, I’ll show you around, and then we can pick a suitable spot for you.”
Cal followed Winston around the ground floor as he explained what each room was as they passed through it. “This is the kitchen. Not that you’d have much use for this room.”
“I can cook,” Cal said. With every word he spoke, he sounded less like a robot and more like a person. Like every interaction,no matter how small, informed him on how act. How to move and speak and interact to blend in better.
“Have you ever cooked before?”
Cal tilted his head. “No, but I’ve never walked or had a conversation before, and I’m holding my own.”
“Fair enough.”
“Do you wish me to cook?”
Winston thought about it for a second. “I mean, you can’t be worse than anyone else. Sure, but not right now. Come on, I’ll show you the upstairs.”
Winston climbed the stairs that lead to the second floor. “These rooms belong to Lucky and Novak. Then there’s the bathroom. Mine is on the third floor.”
It was Winston’s dad who purchased the house, so he got to choose what bedroom he wanted. In reality, Winston didn’t need roommates. He could have survived just fine here by himself if money had been the only issue. But Winston had grown up in large, empty mansions. Sprawling estates with plenty of staff and no friends. If he had his way, he’d never live alone again.
His bedroom took up the entire third floor. He had a king-size bed that looked antique, but it had been modeled after an old Victorian style four-poster. A thick canopy of rich, eggplant purple fabric draped over the top. Sheer curtains were tied off at the posts instead of being drawn shut.
The room was large enough that it had its own sitting area with a couch and a couple of chairs. Over by the window, Winston had a chair that he sat curled up in sometimes. Across the room at the other window, there was no such chair, but there was plenty of room for Calvin.
“Is here fine?” Winston asked, showing the empty space to Calvin. Technically, he could keep him wherever he wanted. He could lock Cal in a closet or the basement. He could command him to stay in his crate and power down, and he could ignoreCal’s existence altogether. The thought crossed his mind but was easily dismissed when he saw the way Calvin traced his fingers over different things in the room. Calvin didn’t know what sheer curtains felt like until he touched them. He’d never experienced the warmth of a bed or the softness of a pillow before.
“That location is adequate.” Cal paused. “Thank you.”
“Do you need help bringing your charger here?”
“I can manage, but thank you, Winston. You’re kind to offer. If it pleases you, I’d like to retrieve it now.”
“Absolutely. Go ahead. I’ll, ah, wait here.”
“I’ll be right back.”
When Calvin left the room, Winston dropped onto the bench at the foot of his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. What the fuck was he going to do with his very own fucking robot?
CHAPTER FOUR_
SETTLING IN
Winston grabbeda bottle of whiskey from the cabinet in his bedroom and poured himself a generous glass. He knocked that back, then poured a second. He put the bottle back but kept his glass with him. He stared at the charging station that was tucked away in the corner of the room. The crate Cal had come in folded in on itself to create a smaller, sleeker station that Cal could use to recharge and update his software. The bit of modern tech in his otherwise antique room stood out, but not in a bad way necessarily. Winston thought it added a bit of interest to the room.
One thing he couldn’t stand, though, was the awful suit they’d dressed him in. It was nice enough, but it made Calvin look like a fucking butler. And Cal might not care about comfort, if such a thing existed for him, but it sure as hell existed for Winston.
“Cal, come here.” Winston walked over to his large walk-in closet and ushered Calvin inside with him. Winston had suits for when he had to wear them, but mostly he preferred a well-tailored pant and soft sweaters or knit shirts when the weather was too warm for sweaters.
He pulled one of the shirts off the rack. It was a burgundy one that he thought would look especially nice on Calvin. “Here, change into this.”
Calvin loosened his tie and pulled it free before he worked on the buttons of his shirt. He looked at Winston while he undressed, which didn’t unnerve Winston. Nothing prepared him for how fucking pretty Calvin was, though. Winston had survived high school locker rooms and was no stranger to nudity, but Calvin had been built well.
