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"It's me, Phillipa. Wiley."
William Wiley Smotherburn was Big Bill's one and only child. And a big pain in the b.u.t.t. The twenty-two year old had recently graduated with a degree in drama. He had hoped it would be easy to break into Hollywood. His dad could pull a few strings, offer a few bribes.
But Big Bill had refused to help Wiley in any way. He wanted his son in the family business, working a real job. He told Wiley it was time he earned his keep, and hired him as a lab tech.
Phillipa had told Big Bill she would quit rather than continue to work with Wiley. He ignored her threats. They both knew she was bluffing. She wouldn't leave. Not when all her dreams were about to come true. "How did you get in here?"
"Henry let me in."
"That d.a.m.n Henry had no business letting you in. What's the point of a retina scanner, if the guards are going to bypa.s.s it?"
"Well, since we're both here...all alone..." He walked up close to her. "Why don't we take a load off? Relax on the couch in your office."
"Don't make me file s.e.xual hara.s.sment charges against you, Wiley. Because I will, you know."
He put his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Please accept my humble apologies."
Acting. Everything Wiley said or did was an act. n.o.body knew the real man. And Phillipa didn't wish to. "Why are you here at this hour?"
"Because I came in late this morning, and I took kind of a long lunch."
"No, you wandered in at precisely 11:22 a.m., and left at 12:15. You returned from lunch at 3:45."
"Wow, I had no idea you were keeping tabs on me."
"Your father asked me to."
"Why? Because you've been complaining about me?"
"That's correct."
"Well, at least you're honest. Unlike Simpson in accounting."
"I expect you to be here from eight to five, like everybody else. Not to come in at all hours of the night trying to make up your time."
"What's the difference? You're here practically 24/7."
"The hours I'm here in the lab are none of your concern. I enjoy working alone at night."
"But wouldn't it be nice to have a partner?" Before she could respond, he said, "Hey, what's that gadget over there on the workbench?" He went over to check it out. "I've never seen one of these before. Is it some top secret thing? Is that why you don't want anyone body else up here at night?"
She smiled nervously. "You watch too much TV. It's just a new type of TENS unit."
Wiley launched into his TV commercial voice. "TENS, or Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation, is used to treat pain with electrical pulses. Two or more electrodes are attached to pads, which are applied to the skin. The pads are similar to EKG pads."
"Very good. Now go home."
He picked up a little black thing, shaped like a small watermelon seed. "What's this?"
"Put that down. It's an electrode. It attaches to a pad. Same as all the others."
"You think I'm stupid, don't you? Just a dumb actor. This is not like the others. Where's the wire?"
"Put it down, Wiley."
"He held it up to the light. There's something inside. A computer chip."
"Give me that."
"It's an implant, isn't it? It goes under your skin."
She stared at him.
"I knew it!"
"Now put it down. And go home."
"What's it going to be for?"
"You must not tell anyone about this. Do you understand?"
"Sure, sure, I know. I won't tell anybody."
"It will work like the others, only better."
"To kill the pain."
"Reduce the pain. And do it more effectively than anything else on the market. Wirelessly."
"Wirelessly. Cool. My dad's always complaining about the wires."
Big Bill had suffered from chronic lower back pain since his thirties, and had been using TENS units for years. It was the reason he had formed Smotherburn Technologies-to develop a better TENS unit-and make a fortune.
"That's right."
"So, that is a tiny computer chip inside."
"Yes. And the user will recharge it each day by wearing a special charging cap that I'm developing."
"Wow. That is cool." Wiley thought for a moment. "Could it be used for other stuff?"
She hesitated. "What do you mean?"
"You know. If you implanted a couple of those babies down below the belt," he said, pointing to his crotch, "could you make somebody go from frigid to red hot with the flip of a switch?"
"Why do you have to be so crude? This device is for pain management. Like all of our other models."
"But...could it be used for pleasure?"
"Well, that's a good question."
He smiled. "See. I have something to contribute. I make you think."
"Sure. Very good. So, do you want to be my test subject?"
"Uh..."
"You'll need to strip down, and get up on that table," said Phillipa.
"Naked?"
"Yes, of course. Don't be embarra.s.sed, Wiley. I'm a scientist. I'll cut two slits and insert the electrodes. Then we can test your theory."
"You'd have to cut me?"
"Yes, of course. How else can I insert the electrodes? They'll be tiny slits."
"Where?"
"Hmm. In the s.c.r.o.t.u.m."
"Whoa. Wait a minute."
"But, I must warn you that I have no idea what will happen. Maybe nothing. You might not feel a thing. Or it could light you up like a Roman candle."
He grinned. "Great b.a.l.l.s of Fire."
"Literally."
"You know what? I think I'll pa.s.s."
"Goodnight, Wiley."
He headed for the door. "See you tomorrow."
"Be on time."
"Right."
CHAPTER 7 - Tuesday, 12:03 a.m.
"Are you sure Joey won't recognize me? And what about the waitresses? And the maitre d'?"
"See for yourself." Gabby spun Rebecca around to see herself in the full-length mirror.
"Who is that? I truly do not recognize myself."
"So, you like?"
"Well, sure. It's amazing how much different I look with curly hair. And it's been a long time since I've worn a skirt this short."
"How about the makeup?"
"It's way too heavy."
"That's on purpose. The idea is that you're desperate to get noticed."
"But I'm ten years older than Wiley. You really think he's going to believe I'm his age?"
"Honey, looking like this, he's not gonna care how old you are. Are you kidding me?"
"Thanks, Gabby. But I don't think he'll even notice me. Not in a roomful of bare b.o.o.bs. How can I compete with that?"
"Easily. They're exposed. Their stuff is in all in your face. You, on the other hand, are leaving something to the imagination. And the imagination is always better than the real thing. I ought to know. It's how I make my living."
"Yeah, I guess so." Rebecca looked around at his beautiful designs all over the walls, thinking he could make any woman look beautiful.
"Okay, we'd better get going. Wiley should be there soon. He usually strolls in between midnight and one."
"But we still don't have a reservation. I hope your new buddy will let us in again."
"You don't need reservations after midnight. They let everybody in."
When they strolled into the lobby of Cafe Nue, Gabby spotted Wiley. He leaned over and whispered to Rebecca, "He's right over there. In the corner. See him?"
Rebecca saw Wiley talking to Bobby Ballantini. It looked like a serious conversation.
"I hate this place." Gabby spoke loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear him, including Wiley.
Rebecca looked surprised. And she wasn't acting. Gabby had gone off script again.
"Let's get out of here." Gabby grabbed Rebecca's arm.
Rebecca took the cue. "Get your hand off me before I break it off."
Gabby threw both hands in the air. "Fine. You can catch a cab home, b.i.t.c.h."
Rebecca punched him in the face.