"Sir?" Wis entered Foster's office reluctantly.
"What do you want, Hart?" The imposing man in the almost ironically formal business suit didn't even look up from his computer screen.
"I was...I was just wondering if there were any double engagements in the queue? You know...like ones that Cassie and Andi could go on together?"
Now Foster looked up, as he cocked an eyebrow. "And why would you be wondering about that?"
"It's just... they get along so well in the House, I think even when imprinted, they'd help comfort each other...and with the stresses they've been under recently, that might be a good thing..."
"Hart, we're not in the business of comforting dolls, only renting them out. Now go do your job."
"Well, no, but you don't want them to have a breakdown on an engagement, do you?" he insisted. "I think...I know stress makes them more likely to blank out. Just a little test of a buddy system, please?"
"Your fondness for these dolls is going to bite me in the ass one day, I just know it... but you have a point. I think there's a double assignment coming up; I'll send you the files when I find it. Put Cassie and Andi on it, and we'll see what happens. If they blank out even for a second, that's the end of it. If they don't...well, then I may consider your idea a bit more."
"Thank you, sir! I promise, this will help, and you won't regret it." He clasped his hands, whether in prayer or gratitude he wasn't sure.
"Not nearly as much as I regret taking the time to have this conversation. Desk, work, now." He waved his employee off.
The files arrived about an hour later. "Double engagement. Any two female dolls acceptable. (Strike that: Andromeda and Cassiopeia to be assigned.) Client's bachelor party; one doll to be gourmet chef, one to be professional stripper. Chef's specialty: Italian cuisine." Wis shook his head. It would cost him less to hire a real chef and stripper, so why go through the trouble of engaging dolls instead? He knew why, and it made him sick: this man got off on controlling others. Just knowing that the women he'd hired were his to create, his to mold; that aroused him more than the food or dancing ever could. In a way, Wis understood the appeal; that's why he loved programming so much, after all. But he knew the science, he knew the biology, he knew the neurological and psychological limits of the actives. He knew what was safe and what wasn't, and he did his best to protect the dolls when they couldn't protect themselves. The client, however, didn't understand any of that, and would likely end up abusing the dolls even if he never meant to. The last lines of one of Wis's favorite science fiction novels went something like this: "'They didn't understand what they were doing.' I'm afraid that will be on the tombstone of the human race." He sighed and got to work.
Andi smiled at her friend Cassie as they rode together in the back of her catering van. They'd been friends since high school, back when they were still just Andrea Hollister and Cassandra Jones, social outcasts. When Andi found her love for exotic dancing, Cassie was the only person she knew who didn't disapprove. Even when Cassie had gone away to culinary school, they both kept in touch almost daily. Nothing could ever pull them apart. So when Cassie returned home, she'd come back with a grand idea: they should be partners in their careers! A catering/pole dancing food and entertainment duo—the world had never seen such a thing, and they were bound to make loads of money. Andi had laughed about it at the time, but after trying it out, she discovered that it actually worked! They formed their own company, with the tag-line, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach," and before they knew it they had jobs lined up for months in advance.
"Okay, so, pasta ingredients? Check. Veggie dish? Check. Every spice on this list for the main steak course? Um...check, check, and check. We're good to go!"
Andi laughed. "That's what you said the last three times you checked. Do you ever relax on a job?"
"Nope. No time to relax when there's food to cook." She sounded serious, but she let herself grin. "Don't forget, food is the way to a man's heart," she joked, slapping her chest with the notepad. She winced.
"Hey, you okay, Cassie?" Andi asked her friend, who was clearly in pain.
"Ah, yeah, just...just a bruise..."
"What, on your boobs?" Andi chuckled.
"Yeah..."
"Wow. And here I didn't even know you had a boyfriend."
"Yeah, not funny. I slipped in the kitchen last week and landed chest-first into the corner of the counter. Still hurts like hell if I touch it." She was always so meticulous and careful in the kitchen, but somehow she'd missed that puddle of water, and the result was extremely painful.
"Chest-first? Wow, and I thought I was the flexible one in this business," Andi laughed.
"You are; I'm just the clumsy one, apparently. The clumsy one who bringeth food." She joined her friend's mirth.
"Okay, we're here," announced Richard, Andi's bodyguard, from the driver's seat.
Cassie opened the back door of the van and let the fading evening sun in. "Alright, Luca, help me get all the equipment into their kitchen." The sous-chef stepped out of the passenger seat and began helping her boss unload everything. She'd only been Cassie's sous chef for about six months, replacing her previous assistant who found a better job at a four-star restaurant in New York. She was proud of him, genuinely proud, but having to find a new hire wasn't the highlight of her year. Maybe she was a perfectionist, as Andi often joked, but no one seemed to live up to her high standards. Luca didn't, either, if she was totally honest, but working without a sous chef made her inefficient and their profits were suffering, so she had to hire someone. She tried to be optimistic by telling herself that maybe after some on-the-job training, Luca could really make something of herself, but sometimes Cassie wondered whether Luca even cared about self-improvement at all.
The four entered the front door of the house – though "mansion" would be a more appropriate word – and while Cassie and Luca dragged shelves and boxes of equipment and ingredients towards the kitchen, Andi took a moment to admire the cavernous home and its vaulted ceilings only a giraffe could reach. "Damn... guy's got money, that's for sure," Andi muttered. "Hey, Rich, we've got time to plan before the party gets started. Should I open with Britney or Christina?" She liked to start with the 90s classics, both for nostalgic reasons but also so she could put on a "good girl gone bad" act before things got truly heated – 90s pop stars were perfect for that kind of thinly veiled sensuality.
Richard shrugged. "I have no idea. Even in the 90s I didn't listen to any of that crap."
Andi shook her head in disapproval. "It's not crap, first of all. And second of all, if we ever make enough money to afford a place like this, I'm hiring a personal DJ."
"Whatever you say, Andi," Richard responded. "I'm just here to keep you safe."
"I know." Andi put a friendly hand on her bodyguard's shoulder. "And you do a wonderful job of it. I appreciate it, I really do." The two shared a brief moment of silence before she continued. "Anyway, I think anyone this rich would like to see me be a... slave for them." She grinned, but Richard did not. "Oh, come on, I thought that was a good joke. Whatever. Come on, Christina, I guess it's just you and me." She carried her laptop into the living room and began connecting it to the lavish sound system.
About 45 minutes later, self-proclaimed Party Boy James Dupont had popped into the kitchen to introduce himself to his chef for the day.
"Hi, hello, nice to finally meet you in person." Cassie smiled as she shook his hand.
"Well, hello there," he replied in an forcibly suave voice. "Nice to meet you, too." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it. Cassie barely reacted; fifty years ago that may have been charming, but to her it was just way overselling himself. Being in the uniquely combined industry that she was, she'd had far worse come-ons and come away unscathed, so though she wasn't flattered, she wasn't uncomfortable, either. More apathetic than anything.
Cassie deftly removed her hand from his. "I just want to make sure you're still okay with the menu we agreed upon? Some simple bruschetta to start, linguine primavera, grilled Tuscan steak for the entree with a side a of roasted red potatoes, and affogato for dessert. I've also got cannolis for anyone who doesn't want to end their night with espresso, but I'll be honest, those are store-bought, so I wouldn't recommend them." She smiled and gave a playful wink.
James returned the smile warmly. "Well, don't worry; I'm sure none of us would dare to prefer store-bought over your masterpiece."
Just then, a poppy bassline boomed through the house. "Oh, sounds like the party's ramping up in the other room. You go enjoy the Aguilera, I'll start on the primavera. It's your night."
"That it is. Nice meeting you, Cassie." And with that, he ducked out to join his friends.
Luca strode up next to her boss. "So... how long until you've got loverboy up inside your lover's lane?" She chuckled, but Cassie turned to her angrily.
"Luca! I've told you before, you can't say things like that. I don't want to have to deal with searching for a new sous chef again, but if you can't keep it professional on a job, I will fire you."
"Whatever you say, Chef."
Cassie sighed. "Just... finish up the mise en place for the pasta." Luca turned to head off to the ingredients. "And from now on, leave the sex talk to Andi. That's her job, not yours."
"Yes, Chef."
A few hours later, dessert had been served and the music had transitioned from 90s pop to bedroom R&B. Cassie and Luca were cleaning up in the kitchen when suddenly, they heard a scream from the other room. "Hey! Hands off!" It was Richard's voice.
Men, and occasionally women, would often get handsy with Andi. She considered it just another part of the job, and usually she'd just playfully slap them away while maintaining her coy persona. If Richard had to intervene, it meant someone had gone too far. Cassie ran out of the kitchen to check on her friend; she found Andi naked in the middle of a group of men – which wasn't surprising – but she was holding a blanket up to cover herself and looked genuinely terrified. Richard was pushing his way through the group to get to his employer. When he reached her, he covered her up more and put his arms around her, guiding her out of the room. As they left, several of the men laughed and shrugged and muttered things like, "Jeeze, never thought a stripper could be such a prude."
Cassie gave her friends a questioning look and followed them back into the kitchen. "What's going on? What happened?"
Andi shook her head, sitting down on a bar stool, but Richard answered. "She was giving them a show. They started crowding around her. I was going to say something, but she didn't want me to, so I stayed back. She played the crowd – you know how good she is at that – and next thing I know someone's smacking her."
"It was just a little ass smack," Andi chimed in. "No big deal. I gave him the shy little finger wag, the 'nuh-uh', and kept going. But then... then he..."
"Party Boy grabbed her. Pulled her to the floor and... if I hadn't reacted, they were about five seconds away from gang-raping her."
"Oh, my God!" Cassie exclaimed, rushing over to hug her friend. "Are you okay?"
"I will be... just need a minute to collect myself..."
"Oh, man," Luca said, chuckling. "Here's Cassie fantasizing about riding Prince Charming to the ball, and then in the other room Andi's stopping him from riding her to the ball! Gotta love the irony."
Cassie spun around, ready to shout and berate and fire Luca on the spot, but then something snapped. Something inside her came loose, and as if she had no control over her actions, she grabbed a bread knife off the counter next to her and charged at her sous chef. "YOU DON'T FUCKING SAY THAT! SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT UP!" Everyone else froze in shock, but Luca managed to dodge the knife just in time.
"What the fuck?! Crazy bitch, I think you need a treatment!"
"NO! You don't get to say shit like that and get away with it!" She lunged at Luca again, who dodged again, but only barely, and her apron fell away as the knife sliced through its tie. Luca reached toward her waist, as if reaching for a gun, then moved her hand away like she'd thought better of it.
"Richard, anything to say?"
"Cassie. Cassie, calm down. Put the knife down."
"You heard her! Andi was... and she just joked about it like..."
"I know... just put the knife down..."
Cassie placed the knife on the island and began sobbing into her hands. Andi wrapped herself in the blanket and came over to her friend. "Andi? I'm fine. Really, I am. See? Everything's okay." She rubbed her friend's back reassuringly.
"Now can we go for a treatment?" Luca asked.
"Fuck off," Cassie replied, shooting daggers at her new enemy with her eyes.
Luca glanced at Richard with a "what the fuck? Do something" expression. "Hey, what if I give you both a treatment?" he asked the partners.
"I think that's a good idea," Andi said.
"Yeah... sure..." replied Cassie. "By the way, Luca? You're fired. Don't show your face around the office or kitchen again."
Cassie watched as Andi left the treatment room, and tried to smile at her, but Andi seemed zoned out. Not a surprise after what she'd been through tonight. After her own treatment, she'd go and make sure her friend was okay. She was beckoned into the room and sat down in the chair, ready to get this over with.
"Before we start your treatment," Wis began, "did anything unusual happen tonight?"
"Not that it's really any of your business," Cassie answered, "but yeah, it did. Things got a little out of control. Those assholes took it too far with Andi."
"Oh, God, did they..."
"No. But almost. Richard had to step in. And then Luca... for fuck's sake, Luca decided it was funny, and I..." She trailed off.
"You what?"
"I snapped. I went after her. She shouldn't have said what she did..." Tears began to form in Cassie's eyes.
"No, she shouldn't have. And I'm sure she deserved everything you gave her."
"Well, she's fired now, so I'll never have to see her again."
"If only that were true..." Wis muttered. Out loud, he offered her some comfort: "The treatment will help you feel a lot better." He pushed the button, and the bright blue lights flickered.
"Did I fall asleep?" Cassiopeia asked.
"For a little while."
"Shall I..."
Wish crinkled his eyebrows when the end of the question never came. "Cassie?"
"I... I don't think I was my best today." She frowned.
"What? Why would you think that?"
"I don't know... Did someone get hurt?"
"No, Cassie. No one got hurt."
"Okay," she said, accepting the answer as her frown immediately transitioned into a smile. "Shall I go now?"
"If...if you like." Wis only had a few moments to consider what had just happened as he watched Cassie leave, before Luca showed up.
"Foster's office. Now." She walked away without even checking to make sure Wis was following, but he knew what was coming, so he followed anyway, despite every bone in his body telling him to run.