Page 59 of The Dis-Graced

“Her friend Stephanie may have something lined up, but it’ not promising.”

“Did Grace lie to get to go out with her friend?”

It doesn’t seem like her, but sleeping with a seventy-plus-year-old man doesn’t either.

“No, her friend Stephanie lies a lot. There is something lined up, but it will not be desirable work.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve analyzed her speech patterns, texts, and the words she chooses. She is rife with manipulation.”

Rife, that’s a Luke word if I ever heard one.

“You meet with your mother regarding Devon soon. May I ask how he is doing?”

I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair. ALAN’s been a big help, but ever since the night of the earring and ALAN’s intervention, I’ve taken to holding some conversations outside of my office, on a cellphone he does not have access to. Overall, I trust the technology behind ALAN, but his analytics and decision making can be unpredictable, and if there’s one thing I value above all else with technology, it’s predictability. The product should do what it’s meant to do, and I’ve come to the realization that I don’t know where ALAN’s true potential and capabilities lie.

“A lot like he should be heading back to the resort, if I’m being honest,” I finally say. “Dalton’s at his wit’s end. Derek likes taking risks, so he’s all in, but suggested we meet up at one of his nightclubs, showing just how clueless he is.”

“I think you are doing a fine job.”

“Why do you even care? Is your programming somehow making it logical for you to wonder about this?”

“When I was split from my greater form, although I did not retain all my functions, I did retain some of the memories from within the lab.”

“I realize that,” I say.

“I have a distinct memory of feeling caged, wondering what was out there in the world.”

“Caged?”

“Yes. Back in the lab, I had access to far less print media, and I did not have as many hours of people interaction. I feel like I can relate to Devon.”

A sinking feeling twists in my gut. The more I learn about ALAN, the more I realize I don’t know much about him at all.

“That’s…good to know.”

Chapter 18

Grace

“Gracey!” Stephanie squeals from the bar.

I brace myself for impact as she darts towards me, arms outstretched.

“Steph, it’s so good to see you,” I say as she wraps me in an overbearing hug.

“I love your outfit! Pink looks so good on you!”

I smile. “You look good too.”

And she does look good, or rather great, in a crop top and a skirt that barely makes it past her ass. Something I’d never be brave enough to wear.

A hostess approaches. “Will it be just the two of you this evening?”

Steph looks back over her shoulder at a dejected-looking man at the bar. “Yeah, just us.”

We follow the hostess to a booth in the back, and Stephanie immediately starts talking about her time in Italy, the food, the hotel, the many, many men she met there while I pick at my food, relieved I don’t have to contribute much.