The Perfect Wife(34)

“Yes. Go back to bed,” Tim says curtly.

“Wait…” you say. “Tim, I need to know…Is Sian your girlfriend?”

Sian looks at Tim expectantly, and you realize she wants to hear the answer to this, too.

“No,” Tim says after a moment. “She’s someone I had sex with, that’s all.”

You note that had.

“Thanks, Tim,” Sian says sarcastically. “Nicely done.”

“Abbie’s upset,” he says tersely. “Right now, that’s my priority.”

“Abbie’s upset?” she says incredulously. “The robot’s upset?”

“She’s my wife,” he snarls.

Sian must know the warning signs by now, but she doesn’t back off. “So if she’s your wife, what am I, exactly?”

“I could give you a word,” he says curtly. “But you might not like it. Why don’t you go upstairs and pack?”

She stares at him. “Are you firing me?”

“Restructuring. Your services are no longer required.”

“Because I slept with you?”

“No,” he says calmly. “Because Abbie can take over your duties with Danny.” He turns to you. “If that’s acceptable to you, Abbie.”

“You cannot fire someone just because you slept with them,” Sian snaps, at the same time as you say, “Tim, wait a minute. We need to think what’s best for Danny here.”

“There’ll be a generous payoff,” he tells Sian. “I suggest you go and think about just how generous you’d like that to be.”

She doesn’t reply. You can almost see the numbers turning in her brain.

Turning back to you, he says in a quieter tone, “What do you mean, about Danny?”

“I can’t replace her. Not yet, anyway. I know some of what she knows about Danny’s therapy, but not nearly enough. She should stay. At least for the time being.” You hate saying it, but you really have no choice.

Tim nods. “All right. Sian, you’ve got two more weeks, for which you’ll also be well recompensed. And now I suggest we all go back to bed.”





27


“The point is, we can’t go on like this,” Mike Austin says tentatively. “Scott Robotics is under siege. Reporters have been harassing our employees. And John Renton’s asked for an urgent meeting.”

It’s next morning. There are five of you sitting around the beach house’s big outdoor table: Mike, Tim, a man called Elijah who’s their chief financial officer, and Katrina Gooding, their PR consultant. Tim’s insisted you join them—“Abbie has as much right to be part of this as anyone”—but the truth is, you have nothing to contribute and the debate simply goes back and forth around you.

You still haven’t had a chance to talk to Tim about Sian. You thought maybe he’d come to your room last night to explain, even apologize, but it’s almost as if he regards the matter as closed now.

Compared with that, the problems at his company seem unimportant.

“What does Renton want?” Tim asks.

“We don’t know exactly,” Mike answers. “But it’s a fair bet he’s getting anxious about the return on his thirty million. We haven’t exactly carried our investors with us on this journey.”

“Abbie should do an interview,” Katrina suggests.

Tim doesn’t hesitate. “She’s not doing an interview.”

“What’s the mortgage like on this place?” Elijah gestures at the beach house’s stunning exterior. “If Renton wobbles, you’ll be the one whose loans are called in.”

“Yes,” Tim agrees icily. “Those are my loans, my guarantees. I put my neck on the line to achieve this. And that’s why it’s my decision. When you have the balls to start your own company and do what it takes to keep it afloat, then you’ll be entitled to an opinion.”

Elijah shrugs, apparently unoffended. No doubt he’s heard similar things from Tim many times before. “I see this differently from you, that’s all. An interview could be a great opportunity—a chance to put our own, positive message out there. We’ve built something incredible. The more people become aware of that, the less our investors are going to be worried about short-term returns. We’ll sell it as a deliberate strategy—first disrupt the existing paradigm, then figure out how to monetize it later.”

Tim shakes his head. “I told you. Abbie doesn’t want to do an interview.” But you can hear from his voice that he’s taken Elijah’s point.

As one, Elijah, Mike, and Katrina all turn to look at you.

“Well,” you hear yourself say. “Of course I’ll do it. If you think it’ll help.”

“It really is your decision, Abbie,” Tim says.

“It’s fine. I want to be useful.” A really useful engine.

“Don’t worry, we’ll coach you in what to say—give you some lines to hit,” Katrina says reassuringly.

“When should we do it?” Tim asks.

She’s already pulled out her phone. “I’ll start making some calls.”



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