Page 54 of Even Robots Die
She still doesn’t like the fact I can read through her lies, and it’s probably what she hates the most about me.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re eating in the dining room tonight,” I tell her.
She visibly relaxes.
“Let’s go then,” she says without letting me add anything before she’s passed me and is out of the lab.
I should add something, though, because I have a feeling she’s either going to be disappointed or mad.
Because what I’m not telling her is the fact that she’ll still have to eat with only me.
Why?
Because I timed the exact moment I was going to pick her up with the end of the crew’s dinner.
And why is that exactly?
Because I’m an asshole with controlling issues and if there is even a chance to make her mad, I’m not letting anyone else see it.
Will it give me more chances for it to happen? Obviously.
It looks like I live for the little thrill her rage gives me these days, so why would I deprive myself of it?
33
Florentine
On the way to the dining room, we cross paths with Charles, two other people I have never seen, and then Daniel.
No one is walking in the same direction as us, though.
This is suspicious.
When we arrive, the dining room is empty with the exception of one person who is setting two steaming plates of what looks to be pasta with tomato sauce and meatballs right next to each other.
And as soon as we enter the room, they disappear.
“What did you tell them?” I ask Brice, who stays at the door, peacefully leaning against the frame while my brain is going into overdrive.
This is not what I wanted. It looks like we’re going to eat with just the two of us again, and that’s definitely not what I signed up for.
“That we’re eating together,” he answers, as if it was the only possible answer to my question.
“Andwhyare we eating together again?” I ask him with annoyance.
“Can’t I like your company?” Brice asks me with amusement in his voice.
“No. You like making me mad,” I bite back and there’s some light that shines in his eyes at my words and I don't want to look too closely at what that means.
“Maybe I like both,” he answers me.
“I already knew your brain was fucked, but this is almost worse,” I answer him with a laugh I don’t even believe in.
“You have no idea,” is the only answer I get, and I’m not even sure he wanted to say it out loud.
Before the silence installs itself, I walk to the closest plate and drop to the seat.
I don’t let Brice start asking anything this time. I eat immediately. If eating is really the right word. It’s more like I’m shoveling food into my mouth more than anything else.
