Ruby

I glance at the man walking next to me, his handsome face hard and covered in sketchy-looking stubble. He doesn't look safe at all. To be honest, he doesn't look much more reputable than the gang that almost attacked me in the alley. Jeans, t-shirt, synth leather jacket, the beginnings of a beard. He looks like a poster child bad boy, though unlike the posers at school, he might actually be the real deal.

His hand is warm against mine as he leads us through other back alleys. Probably it was a bad idea to trust a man I just met and follow him into dangerous places.

The city came up with the money to light the alleyways in the hopes of reducing the crime rate. But the lights were broken within a week in each in every place they were installed. The mayor has simply thrown up his hands in defeat and no longer tries.

And here I am, traipsing through dark lanes with a stranger. I guess tonight is my night to make bad decisions.

"What's your name?" I ask, probably something I should have thought of earlier. You know, in case of a police report later. The police that this guy didn't actually call.

I mentally smack myself.

"Zane," he says, glancing back at me with a smile that does funny things to my heart. Stupid heart. "What's yours?"

"Ruby."

"Ruby," he repeats, almost savoring the sound of it. It sends a slight shiver down my spine. Apparently any move he makes affects me. "Pretty," he comments, his eyes warm as he looks at me.

When he turns back around, I still feel the effects of that look. I've never met a man so… male. Yes, he's handsome. Testosterone seems to just drip off him. And he definitely has that bad boy edge going on. But there's something more. His confidence, his clear intelligence. The way he doesn't hide that he finds me attractive.

I haven't been this attracted to anyone this fast… ever. I frown as I consider that. It's true.

I'm turning that thought over in my mind and wondering what it might mean as we keep going. Maybe because he isn't a boy from school. He isn't a boy at all.

Zane is definitely a man.

And I've never really spent much time around a good looking man before. Not with all the restrictions my parents have on me. Maybe it's as simple as that.

As I think, Zane keeps us moving at a brisk pace. It doesn't take us long to reach Grandmother's building, the expensive structure lit up like a Christmas tree next to other equally moneyed residential skyscrapers on either side. This part of town screams money and power.

Flashy and known as a desirable neighborhood, some people live here just to prove their worth. Even if they can't afford it. Like an expensive car on lease or really good fake jewelry advertised to trick even the most discerning eye. Holograms can accomplish a lot these days. Though one touch and the illusion would be broken.

"Time?" Zane asks as we reach the doorman at the front.

I check my watch. "One minute to spare," I say with surprise. That really was fast.

He grins at me, something about the wickedness of it hitting all the right buttons.

I blink. Wow.

I never thought I was the type stupid enough to go for bad boys. But how bad is he really? I mean, he did save me from those other guys. Their intentions were not at all good. Am I only basing his badness on how he looks? His clothes and his swagger? That doesn't seem fair.

Hmm.

I turn to the doorman, no time to really dwell on it. I went through a lot to be here on time, and damn it, I'm going to be on time.

"Ruby Devaux. I'm here to see my Grandmother."

"Ah, of course," the android says with a smile that I would be sure was human if not for the fact that his bottom half is clearly mechanical. Twenty-four hour doormen are one of the perks of living here. And robots are much more cost efficient for this kind of work. They never tire, never take sick days, and are always in a good, cheerful mood. Bad customer service doesn't exist once the human element is taken out.

So far, regulations ensure that full artificial intelligence cannot be combined with a fully humanoid body. Most androids are built for very specific tasks, with intelligence designed to stay within a narrow field and only half of a passable human body. Though I'm sure the black market has unsanctioned models to sell.

Sometimes I wonder if the dark whispers online about the androids walking among us are true. But then I shrug it off as a problem I can't do anything about even if it was true.

The doorman slides the door over the scanner on his chest and I place my hand on it. I've been keyed in to Grandmother's account.

"Very good, Ms. Devaux," he says with another smile. "You and your guest are welcome to enter."

The door to the building slides open. "Thank you," I say, smiling back at the doorman.

Some people aren't nice to the robots and androids, justifying it by saying they don't really feel. But I wonder at that. Maybe they don't feel. Maybe they do. But I know I feel terrible if I'm not polite.

I walk in with Zane, who also nods at the doorman in acknowledgment.

Hmm. Really not so bad.

I wonder if I should say goodbye to him. Grandmother isn't going to approve of me showing up with him, that's for sure. But he hasn't made a move to leave and it seems rude to say goodbye when he's done so much for me. It has nothing to do with the fact that he smells amazing or that he looks at me with heat in his eyes.

Nope. Nothing at all.

Maybe if I say it enough I can convince myself it's true.

As soon as we walk in through the second door, it closes behind us, enclosing us in a multi-directional elevator. We start moving. God forbid the rich have to walk anywhere. Though, if I'm honest, I suspect part of the reason why there isn't even a lobby in the building is so that every inch of space for this address can be utilized. Space is beyond astronomically expensive here after all. And I can't deny the convenience of the elevator.

It moves horizontally, comes to a smooth stop, and then rises vertically. Then horizontally again, taking us right to Grandmother's door. Can't beat the convenience. And the lack of ads. The people living here shell out so much partly so they don't have to constantly dodge those advertisements.

We step out and wait. I don't bother knocking. The doorman would have contacted Grandmother to ask for permission to send us up while he spoke to us. She knows we're here. She obviously also saw Zane and agreed to his coming up as well or the doorman would never have let us in.

Doesn't mean she'll welcome him, but at least she didn't deny him entry.

The front door opens in less than two seconds of us waiting, revealing Grandmother in all her glory. Even this late at night her gray hair is styled just so, holographic makeup still activated, gently smoothing out her wrinkles and highlighting her eyes. Her beige pantsuit is silk, and her gold flats cost more than a month's rent for us. Pearls at her throat and ears complete the moneyed, understated look.

Grandmother is in her sixties at this point, but her back is still ramrod straight and her waist is still trim. She keeps up a rigid regimen, looking down at people who decide to let themselves go in any way. It's a hard standard to live up to. I can see why Mom strayed so far.

"Grandmother," I greet her, leaning in to lightly kiss the cheek she presents to me. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," she says, her eyes already on Zane. "Who is this?" she asks, her tone imperious.

She manages to look down her nose at him even though he towers over her even more than me. It's a skill. I wonder if I could manage it with some practice.

"This is Zane," I say quickly, my smile straining at the edges. "There were some men that were harassing me on my way here and he stepped in."

"Hmm." Grandmother's eyes scan him, her lip slightly curled. She obviously finds him lacking. Not the type to appreciate a bad boy, I guess.

"Nice to meet you," Zane says politely, a slight smile on his face, like he only finds it amusing that she thinks he isn't worth her time.

I bet he probably gets it a fair amount. Though that's assuming that he meets the families of the girls he dates. If he dates at all. I picture a line of willing women spinning through a revolving door. I should probably stop thinking about this.

Grandmother just sniffs, turning her attention back to me.

That went well.

"Come in," she says, stepping back to allow us to enter.

I step inside with Zane close on my heels. Somehow, Grandmother doesn't seem quite so intimidating with him there.

Inside, the décor matches Grandmother's clothes. Beige, cream, hints of gold accents here and there. Not much for bold splashes of color, my grandmother but she has a killer view of the city lights. Large windows line one wall, cream colored draperies framing the view.

Linda, the maid, rolls over on her steel ball connected to the pole that holds her upper half up. It allows her speed and mobility in the house. "Allow me to take your jackets," she says with a smile, holding out a hand.

"Thank you," I say politely, taking off my jacket and handing it over as Zane politely declines to part with his own.

Probably wants to be able to make a quick getaway. That's actually an option.

Lucky him.

"You really should be dressing more appropriately," Grandmother remarks, her eyes scanning my jeans and shirt. "How are you going to attract the right kind of people if you don't project the correct image?" She glances over at Zane pointedly, the look conveying exactly what she thinks of his appearance.

Great. I give Zane an apologetic smile, but he still just looks mildly amused by everything. Better than offended, at least.

"Are you still friends with that Isa and Elle?" she asks as we all sit down on the spotless, cream colored couches.

She knows I am. But she still asks every time, like maybe I swapped them out for more respectable models since the last time I saw her.

"Yes," I say simply, bracing myself for the experience that is Grandmother.

I once again understand why Mom left. I come to the same understanding every time I'm here. But she's my Grandmother, so I make the trip every time. Yay for obligation.

"Those girls need some firm handling. I do wish you would keep better company, my dear."

"Yes, Grandmother," I say politely.

When in doubt, that's always the response I give her. Better to just avoid a fight. It won't get me anywhere. She's very set in her ways and I just do what I want anyway. Win win.

She nods as Linda rolls in with some refreshments, setting them down on the table. "Thank you," I say to her with a smile. Grandmother says nothing, simply reaching for the tea.

I sigh. Thank God for robots. No human would be able to tolerate Grandmother for long. And she isn't one to lift a finger when she can pay someone else to do the work for her.

"I invited you here tonight to discuss your future," Grandmother starts after taking a careful sip.

That sounds ominous. I already wish I wasn't here.

"What are your plans now that you're eighteen and almost done with school?" she continues.

Well, there's a loaded question. "I'm not sure," I say honestly. "I'm looking for work right now."

I'd like to go to college, but I have no idea where I would get the money. If I work, maybe I can save up enough to start in a couple of years, though there aren't any guarantees. My part time job now won't be enough. I'll have to find something else as soon as I graduate.

"Yes, well, I'm sure that seems like a fine idea to you now. You don't know any better." She sets down the delicate teacup and meets my eyes, hers direct as always. "I want you to attend the same prep school as I did. There, you'll make contact with the right kind of people, find your rightful place in society."

Okay. I don't know how she expects me to make that happen.

"I'm thinking of saving up and then going to college," I explain. "I don't know if I'll be able to afford the same school you went to, but—"

"I'll pay for it," she interrupts me, waving her hand dismissively, the diamond on her finger winking at me.

I frown. This is… unexpected. "That's… very generous of you, Grandmother."

And it is. I could only ever dream of attending one of the upper class prep schools. Even apart from the expense, you have to be someone or know someone to get in. But Grandmother has been very consistent about not paying for anything and not throwing her weight around either. For my family or for me.

"It is generous," she agrees, folding her hands and nodding. "I would, of course, require you to meet certain expectations."

Ah. Here it comes. I don't know if I'm going to like this at all.

I glance over at Zane and notice how he's looking at Grandmother, his head tilted to the side. Like he's fascinated by her, trying to dissect what makes her tick. Good luck with that. Sometimes I think we'd discover a circuit board inside her if we cut her open.

I look back. It has to be asked. I'm in this conversation now and the only way out is to finish it. "What expectations?"

"I'll let you know as they come up." How open ended and convenient for her. "The first one, however, has to do with the upcoming Singarti cotillion Prince Herne is throwing. I want you to agree to attend. There will be many wealthy, eligible men there for you to choose from. A rare and important opportunity for you."

Next to me, Zane stifles a laugh, turning it into a cough.

My mouth twitches. It does sound rather Victorian. Grandmother was born in the wrong era altogether.

She flicks a quelling glance over at Zane and then back at me. "I do not want you to make the same mistakes your mother made."

There it is. Clear and out there. She's never said it so openly before, though I've felt the weight of that thought in how she treats me. And isn't it ironic that both she and my mother can agree on this one thing?

I sit back, not knowing what to think. That's a lot to take in. A lot to process. And I can't help but think this is a trap wrapped as a gift. Pretty and sparkling on the surface, but only to draw me in.

But school…can I afford not to take this opportunity? I'd really like to continue my education. Even if I work, who knows when I'd be able to afford it. And I know I won't be able to afford a school as good as the one she's offering to me.

How do I answer?

But Grandmother doesn't wait for an answer at all, like everything’s already decided.

She glances at the time. "I will let your parents know you will be staying with me tonight. It is much too late for you to return home at this hour." She stands and we both follow her lead.

For once, I breathe a sigh of relief at her high-handedness. I have some time to think. Even if she thinks it's a done deal, I haven't given my agreement yet.

Grandmother glances over at Zane with an arched brow.

He takes his cue. "It was nice to meet you," he says politely. He turns to me, his face and voice warming. "And you too. Stay safe."

"Thank you. For everything," I say, not knowing how to express what I want to. The gratitude. The desire to see him again.

He nods graciously, giving me a two fingered salute. I watch as he walks over to the door, his broad shoulders filling out that leather jacket deliciously. I don't want him to leave. But I can't say anything under Grandmother's watchful eye.

He steps out, closing the door behind himself.

"I don't know why you brought that street ruffian in here with you," Grandmother says as soon as he's gone. "That type of company just won't do, Ruby. Not if you want to advance your status. I'm sure you understand."

I sigh, missing Zane already. Somehow, he made her easier to deal with. "Yes, Grandmother."

She nods sharply. "It's quite late. I think it's time we both retire."

I nod, but she's already moving to the hall, her gliding walk eating the distance deceptively fast. Sighing silently, again, I follow.

"Goodnight," I call out as I step into the room I stay in when I'm here too late. It doesn't happen often.

I shut the door behind me and stand among the frilly canopy bed, the thick white rug, the over-sized dresser. Everything in here is pale pink, with plenty of lace and ribbons. Like I'm a five year old with a penchant for princesses. I guess I appreciate the effort, at least.

Shaking my head, I sit down on the soft bed, bending over to put my head in my hands. Tonight was a lot more eventful than I'd anticipated. Sleeping actually doesn't sound so bad. Maybe I'll feel better about everything when I wake up.

I move to lie down, but then hesitate. What was that?

Another sound.

Was that…? Is someone tapping at the window?

I get up, looking over. The glass is already black, the tint set to appear when the sun sets. I can't see through it unless I deactivate it.

But how the heck would anyone reach the window when it's so high up? Maybe it's a bird?

Another insistent tap. I take a step towards it.

Guess I'm about to find out.