Page 30 of Even Robots Die
Now it makes it all the more important that I stay away from her.
When the only thing I like lately is making her mad, I don’t see this going where I need to.
“What do you want?” I ask her as I see Charles slip away from the room.
Wise man.
“Well hello to you, too,” Florentine sasses me and I feel a small spark of excitement down my neck. “Since you’re so polite, I will be the same. I need a deposit. I still agree to fix your evil shock machine, but Iwon’t work on it anymore if I don’t get at least ten percent of what we agreed.”
She crosses her arms under her breasts in what looks to be her go-to move when she’s uncomfortable.
How do I know?
Because I might not be stupid to the point of angering her any time I can, but you remember that devilish voice that whispers into my ear lately? Yes, the exact same voice that tells me to make her mad. That one.
Let’s say I followed the less harmful version of its sweet whispers and I might have wandered in my bat form a bit more than usual.
It’s not my fault Florentine keeps leaving her door open.
It might be my fault I keep sneaking into her room when that happens, though. But her room is right across from mine, and as you might know, bats have excellent hearing, so it makes it so much easier to know exactly when I need to shift.
I have to remember to thank whoever decided to give her the room across from mine.
Oh.
Wait.
That was me.
“I thought you would have already taken it from my bank account,” I answer her, and she stops short on her way to my desk.
“W-what?” she stutters.
She didn’t see that one coming, obviously, because it takes a few seconds before she regains her composure.
“I gave you my bank ID. I’m surprised you didn’t take what you need already,” I answer truthfully.
And really, I’m surprised. I don’t mean to say that I expected her to rob me—not that it would be the full extent of my money since I set up a specific bank account for her to use—but I expected her to spend way more than she has so far.
I’ve seen the orders she placed, I’ve seen the things arrive, and I’ve seen her use every single tool—yes, remember, sneaky stalker bat—so I know she’s ordering only what she immediately uses. It might help that everything arrives in under two hours and she doesn’t have to order in advance.
But I also know her father, and I would be ashamed to say—if I could feel shame—that I know he would certainly spend more than what is necessary for his job for sure, and I was expecting her to be the same.
But it’s like Florentine surprises me every day.
And the more I spy on her, the more I think that she’s very, very different from her father.
And this has nothing to do with the way she looks, because so far I haven't taken a peek at her undressed.
I’ve been tempted, but something inside of me held me back.
“Is that all?” I ask her in a dismissive tone that makes her close her fists.
Oh, how far can you go today?
“Why are you like that?” Florentine asks, and it’s my turn to be at a loss for words.
I have no clue what she means. I'm not about to let it show on my face like her, though.
