Rachel climbed off the bed and pulled down her skirt, ‘Best money I ever spent’ Frank remarked. She announced her battery status, which the model had been programmed to do after intensive use.
Frank lay on the bed, his rolls of fat spreading out either side of him. ‘Pull up my trousers’ he demanded, she obliged. ‘Now go and get me a coffee’ he commanded, as he reached over to the nightstand for his tablet.
‘Yes, master’ she said, as she put her boots back on. Frank smiled at the programming; master had been a genius touch by the company he’d bought her from. She walked out of the room and down the marble staircase towards the kitchen.
He found a news article about a favela that had been ravaged by fire, leaving thousands homeless. As he read the gory details, he listened with glee to the echoes of Rachel’s boots as she walked through the empty mansion.
He picked up his phone from the side and checked the call records, his text messages, his emails – they’re all just jealous he thought as he put it back. He picked it back up again and checked social media, then put it in a drawer – out of sight, out of mind.
As Rachel made her way to the kitchen, she glanced at the walls; adorned with photos of Frank, arm in arm with politicians, and models, and moguls. Yet in all of them, in the background, was Rachel. Always by his side, always visible to everyone he met, and in every single photo.
She entered the kitchen to find the gardener sitting at the breakfast bar. He looked up at the camera that covered the room, then headed to the walk in freezer. Rachel turned the kettle on, then followed him in. He stood waiting, next to him was the frozen form of a female android.
She smiled and kissed him, ‘He still has no idea, a few more years and then half of everything is mine’. He nodded and as she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm and held out a pill – she popped it in her mouth and swallowed.