Pleasure Island. Lorie O'Clare
swear that you forget that.”
“They’re also the reason your income is over six figures annually,” I threw out at her. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see no level of compassion register in her face.
Instead, she smiled softly. “Malachi, dear, don’t get jealous of them.”
“What?” I would never be able to follow Rose’s line of thinking.
Her thin, delicate looking fingers were as cold as the rest of her when she gripped my shoulder and squeezed. “Give yourself credit. I give myself credit. In spite of how successful the companions are, I know that if I hadn’t had the ingenuity to discover your talents and offer you a job, and if you hadn’t been willing to make your home here and continue with your work, we wouldn’t be as filthy rich as we are now.”
She leaned over to kiss my cheek and if she noticed me stiffen, she ignored it. Rose didn’t care about me. Her actions were simply to appease. If anything rang true and consistent about my business partner, it was that she was a cold, heartless bitch, concerned only with the almighty dollar and how many of them she could rub together.
It became clear a long time ago that telling her I didn’t care about the money only made her angry. “Was there something else you needed?” I returned my attention once again to the monitors, which allowed me to watch all of the companions, and make sure nothing ever went wrong.
“There’s always something I want,” she purred, and then scratched my shoulders with her fingernails.
When Rose offered herself to me, she wanted something badly. After ten years on this island, she still hadn’t figured out that there weren’t any sparks between us. I didn’t have a problem admitting that Rose Bontiki was an incredibly gorgeous woman, and on more than one occasion, guests arriving on the island requested her for their companion over one of my creations. Fortunately for our guests, Rose refused to be a companion.
“What would that be?” I asked, and adjusted one of the monitors so that I could see one of the guests in her room.
“Is this how you get your rocks off?” she hissed. “Watching our guests get laid in their rooms? You know if anyone ever caught you doing that…”
“Which they won’t because guests aren’t allowed in this part of the island.” I glanced down at the printout of the guests who’d just arrived this morning. This guest was Natalie Green, from Chicago, a lawyer from one of the larger firms in the Midwest. “And no, this isn’t how I get my rocks off. This is how I make sure that my companions perform properly.” I looked away from the pretty lawyer before her actions did start to affect me. “What do you want, Rose?”
She immediately looked offended. Not that her pouting expression fazed me a bit. I glanced over my shoulder at her but then focused on the rest of the printouts. Then, adjusting the monitors, I focused on each companion who was matched up with our new guests. Occasionally a companion wasn’t compatible with a guest, and I liked finding that out before the companion sensed trouble.
Rose grabbed my shoulder, pinching her long fingernails into my bare flesh while flashing me one of her famous, empty smiles. “I want companions that guests will fight over,” she said coolly.
“Then maybe you should leave me alone so that I can work.” If any guest knew that two people who hated each other’s guts ran paradise, they’d laugh us right out of the Pacific. “Thanks for bringing the gang back to me,” I added, putting a cheerful edge in my voice intentionally, just to get under her skin.
“You better work on your gang,” she said under her breath, and gave me one of her million-dollar smiles—literally, since I knew first hand. I gave it to her with her last plastic surgery procedure. Rose turned, tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder and sashayed her way out of the warehouse.
She glanced over her shoulder when the sun hit her hair and showed off the faint red highlights. Her smile became sincere when she caught me watching her. Let her think what she wanted, it made it easier to work with her. Raising a limp hand in a gesture of good-bye, I returned my attention to the monitors.
Five guests arrived this morning. Four other guests were already here and would be for another few days. I switched channels from the hot lawyer before I forgot why I was sitting here, and found Mr. Hardister, who for some reason had turned in his last two female companions and was now working on his third. The island had a policy that guaranteed customer satisfaction, but Hardister was taking advantage of the policy. I had no doubts. Especially as he sat watching the morning news, remote in hand, with Maria on her knees in front of him giving him a blow job.
I almost pitied Maria. She was one of our more popular companions. I’d done a damned good job mixing her personality chips when I’d created her. Always a smile on her face, and up for just about anything, Maria charmed anyone she spent time with. If Hardister complained about her, I would have to talk to Rose. It would mean that Hardister was abusing policy and simply wanting to switch out companions every couple of days while he was here on the island—and complaining they didn’t satisfy him got him out of paying for extra companions.
“Malachi?” Maggie brushed her fingers over my bare shoulder.
“What, sweetheart?” I asked, turning my attention from my work and adjusting the stool so I faced her.
“The Adams are acting up again.” She made a quirky expression and smiled.
Maggie was best described as a living, breathing Barbie doll, complete with her tanned skin and straight, waist-length blonde hair. And she was beautiful beyond fault, although maybe I was biased.
“Those damned Adams,” I said playfully, and stood, tickling her and laughing when she did.
My companions might be created to offer sexual pleasure, but to me, they were my children. I couldn’t think of them any other way. Putting my arm around Maggie, I hurried over to where two of the Adams were repeatedly walking into each other.
Of all my creations, the Adams probably shouldn’t hold such a special place with me. I knew no one understood why I didn’t scrap them. Hell, sometimes when they created more work than they accomplished, I didn’t understand why I kept them activated. But then there were times like now.
“Hold on to that Adam,” I instructed Maggie, pointing to the manlike android, whose face wasn’t even partially developed. “I’ll grab this one. On my word, face him toward the door.”
“Roger that,” Maggie said, laughing as she jumped around the two Adams. “Why do they do this?” she asked, her tone proof she was curious and not condemning.
Thank God they acted up after Rose left. “Circuit malfunction,” I huffed out, wrapping my arms around the waist of one of them, which wasn’t an easy trick since he kept stepping forward and backward. “Okay, Maggie, now!”
I turned my Adam and Maggie turned hers. I grunted and huffed loudly. Lifting a grown man was no easy task. Maggie lifted hers, the amused grin on her face never fading. She reminded me again why I didn’t regret making my later models stronger than the average human. The two androids, dressed in loincloths like the other companions on the island, walked out of the warehouse like nothing happened.
“Can you fix them?” she asked.
I started after them, deciding it would be best to see what shorted out now before they damaged anything or themselves. “They won’t ever be like you or the other companions. But I’m going to do a diagnostic on both of them now, I think.”
Maggie didn’t say anything. And although I knew she wasn’t programmed to judge, I gave personal thanks anyway that she didn’t. There were times when I thought I understood parents of physically deformed children. They loved their kids just like a parent of a normal looking child would. And that’s how the Adams were to me.
An hour later, after Charles and Phillip helped me carry the Adams to my laboratory, I sent the companions away, and stood in between the tables where the two Adams lay motionless. It didn’t seem so long ago when