Headspace by Calinda B Read Free Book Online Page B

couch.
    Nigel leaps up onto the back of the couch and snarls. Oh, no, you did not. You can’t leave him there. He stinks. And that’s where I like to nap .
    “ You don’t nap at night,” I say. “You prowl.”
    Have you checked the time lately ?
    I tap the time chip in my left index finger. “24 October, 4:24 a.m.” flashes in front of my eyes. “Oh, no,” I groan. “It’s a good thing I make my own hours.”
    Yeah. About that. You know that service you use to field potential clients ?
    “HoloMess 500, yeah. What about it?” The name makes me laugh. It’s a warehouse of bots in Southeast Asia. Those warehouses seldom see a human inside of them. Anyway, something got lost in the translation of “messages” and it became merely “Mess.”
    You know how they try to reach you when there’s an urgent message ?
    “What are you getting at?” I grab a blanket from the closet and drape it over Jonas’s snoring form.
    I’m talking about the disturbance—they tried to reach you tonight. They kept trying to access the mainframe and it kept messing with my Zen prowl .
    “The mainframe? Why would they do that?”
    Did you request a “do not disturb” ?
    “ No, I…shit, I’ve been way preoccupied! Jonas decided to go on a bender tonight and it took my total focus. He’s not in good shape right now. That’s why I brought Jonas home. Damn!The pulse-com system sometimes can’t get through if you’re preoccupied. You can intentionally turn it off but tonight it just couldn’t reach me. I was too upset and busy taking care of Jonas.”
    Exactly. Hence, there’s been this hum in the house for hours. It’s been driving me mad. And now you drop a smelly, drunk man on my bed? You’re going to pay for this .
    “What will you do? Wage a protest? Hunger strike?” I wander toward him and scratch his head. My hand moves down his back, right in front of his tail. He loves that spot. He starts to purr.
    Stop it .
    “You know you don’t want me to.” I move up to his chest. He purrs louder.
    Stop it.
    “Stop it some more? You’re a hoot, Nigel. Now, I’d better check that message.”
    All I have to do is draw the digits of the com number I need in front of my face to place a call. I do this and an automatic voice answers.
    “This is HoloMess 500. Please enter your five-digit identity code.”
    I write it in the air.
    “Thank you. Now enter your six-digit business code.”
    I comply.
    “Thank you, Vienna Venetta. You have eight messages. The messages have been labeled urgent . Here is message one. ‘Sultana, you don’t know me—yet. You’re going to want to. Com me. Any time, day or night.’”
    I roll my eyes. They all think they’re all that. I flick my fingers to delete it.
    “Message two. ‘Sultana, I’m your next client. You won’t want any more after me. I guarantee you’re going to like what we do together. Com me. Seriously. Any time.’”
    I cock my head. Someone’s impatient. Once again, I flick my fingers and the com is deleted. Messages three, four, five, six, and seven are similar in nature. The only difference is a growing edge to the voice. It disturbs me to hear it. This com caller is going to need to be vetted, big-time. I have a service that vets potential clients to ensure that no one is a psycho, serial killer, or deranged in any way. Even though this is just a fantasy game, I still don’t need to contact the headspace of a crazy person. Like I said, I feel everything about them—who they are, what they think and feel.
    The last message does the complete opposite of the first seven. It turns me on so much, I’m stunned. It’s like the guy has reached up into my pussy and found that place— that place. His voice snakes down my throat and into my chest. It insinuates itself up my thighs and parts my tender lips. It’s deep and delicious and makes me feel like an orgasm is on the way. Could it be that this guy will help me unlock the secret code inside ? I make a mental note