When A Robot Tries The Art of Seduction

"Follow me," I commanded, taking long strides to one of the doors. She pursued me, trying to catch up with my sharp and rapid steps. Eventually, we made it to the office and I used my fingerprint to open it. "I'll add yours because I won't be in the office when you want to clean," I told her, stepping into my office. The warmth and smell of the coffee I had just taken still enveloped the room. It reminded me of my youth, where krispy kreme was my go to. Divine and I would buy the six donut set and an iced latte each, much to my fathers disapproval whenever he found out from the staff that escorted us both secretly and openly. Although he always let us have our way at the end of it all.

"That's a bit too trusting, what if I go through your stuff?" She asked, bewildered as to why I would do that.

"We are Normans technology for a reason. Having access to the office doesn't mean you can have access to things in the office." I reminded her. I would have smirked but I decided to keep my face blank at all times most especially when she was around me. "Also, you would be breaching the contract if you do so."

"Why did you call me here, sir?" She tapped her fingers on her thigh impatiently. It was evident that she was chewing on the inside of her mouth.

"Have a seat. Nice to meet you again," I tell her offering a handshake. She took it. Her hands felt soft and warm. Like the hands of a person who did no work at all. Specifically, not kitchen work.

They were a lot different from the hands of my mother who has spent her childhood and teenage days, farming and baking in a town with more cows than human beings.

"I guess," she said, pulling out a chair to sit. "My apologies for bumping you this morning. It was a bad first impression," she giggled, throwing her head back slightly.

I cleared my throat, refusing to be affected by the beauty of her laughter. The sound was inviting. So pleasant- it was music to my ears. "I'm not talking about today."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her lips were still etched in a small smile. "I don't think I've ever had the honour of meeting you Mr Norman," she said after a minute of silence.

"You are unusually polite," I commented. "Are you that desperate for the job?"

"Excuse me? Are you a hormonal teenager?" She retorted. "Who goes from a prince charming saving the daughter of a nobody from a dangerous drop to a proud ass who belittles people he employs just because his name is everywhere."

"You're one to talk," I tell her. "What happened to 'I don't think I've ever had the honour of...'"

She raised her hand to silence me. She had the guts.

She huffed, her face red from realization. "Would you be so kind to remind me of our previous encounters or go straight to the point and tell me why I am here?" Her chest heaved up and down- she was fuming with anger.

"You never called me," I mumbled.

"How the hell was I supposed to get your number?" She cackles. "And why would I ever think of calling you?" Her eyes rolled up her skull.

I pulled out a card from under a document and slid it over to her. She stared at it for a while before she picked it up and took a good look at it. "And this is supposed to remind me of?" Her forehead was suddenly creased with lines.

"Do you have amnesia?" I inquired.

"No I do not," she rolled her eyes again. "You can check my medical record on Monday."

"No need for that," I said waving her off. "Where do I start? Candidate number..."

She closed her eyes momentarily, and when they opened, a flicker of surprise and remembrance flashed through them. Her face went pale and I could see the weakness in her expression. She pinched the bridge of her nose- leaning forward and muttering incomprehensible words.

"You," she hissed. "Ah, the irony of life."

"Yes me," I said fighting my victory smile. "I'll put that aside. You got this job on merit."

"Of course I did. I don't sleep my way to get or retain jobs," she scoffed bitterly. "If you begin to have those questionable intentions towards me, l would resign without hesitation. I'm not the kind to mix sinful pleasures with work."

"What has got your panties in a twist? Who says I have those intentions?"

"Why did you assign me to your office then?" She retorted.

I want to let out a laugh but I don't.

Her eyes pranced round the office, from the glass table designed to look wooden and antique, to the famous N at the back of the laptop on the table. They rested on the portrait of a white lion and then journeyed all the way to the live wallpaper of dancing black roses on the wall behind me.

"Did you get fired because you refused to sleep with your boss?" I asked, not just for curiosity sake but to remove the uncomfortable silence that was developing.

"No," she scoffed, looking a bit irked at my inquisition.

"You're a terrible liar," I informed her. "If you hadn't gotten fired, you would have gotten an appropriate job."

She lay shrugged at the statement so I continued, "Moreover, you wouldn't have stressed on not sleeping your way to retain or get jobs."

"You don't have business interfering with my personal life," she said glowering at me.

"Right." I stared at her intently. She locked eyes with mine, refusing to look away. I gave up and planted my gaze on the table.

"What did you call me here for?"

"I..." I could not believe I was lost for words. "I don't know."

"That's funny. Are you sure it wasn't to get me embarrassed? You want to rub your... What's the word..." She trailed off. "Your triumph."

"No."

"I see," she said standing up. "If that's the case, I'd be on my way."

"Well, I guess you should go."

"By the way, can I be sure I am not talking to a robot cloned to look like the real Mr. Norman?" She asked, stopping on her way outside the door.

"Do I look like a robot?"

"Essentially yes."

"Why do you say so?" I stood up to meet her at the door. "Do robots take deep breaths like this?" I asked, bending my neck to inhale her scent from behind her ears.

She swallowed hard. "What are you doing?"

I pulled back. "Confirming I am not a robot."

"This is Norman's technology," she breathed. "You guys know how to make anything happen."

"Really?"

"See what I'm talking about," she huffs slightly pushing me. "Even when you did that, it was with the same tone as when you're speaking with others and not..."

"Not what?" I asked, now breathing against her neck.

"Stop it." Her chest rose and fell rhythmically. "You know what I mean."

"I swear I don't."

She took a considerable amount of steps back. "You don't smile, laugh, glare or scowl. Your face is always blank."

"If anything is possible in Norman's tech, then you should know our robots made to act as humans can do all those," I paused, gauging her reaction. I took a few steps towards her again, cornering her against a wall. "We even have robots who can pleasure-"

"Stop it," she glares pushing me. "It's creepy."

"What is?"

"This? Who tries getting people in the mood with a tone like this? You sound automated."

"In the mood?"

"You have changed so much," she commented suddenly, biting her lips. "What in the world happened to your provocative smiles and suggestive winks?"

My thumb- on impulse, pulled her lip from the grip of her teeth. "And this isn't provocative?" I challenged.

"I said stop it," Her voice was uneven. It sounded somewhat terrified. Goodbye, sir." She said, suddenly shoving me. She then ran to the elevator and waited for it to open.

"Go to dinner with me," I blurted as she stepped into the elevator. "Dark Tribe by six o'clock."

The door of the elevator shut before she could respond. I could have done something to stop it but I remained fixated on the spot, pondering over her words.

It's creepy.

Had I lost my touch with the art of seduction?