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Something new, bold, and different.
Or she was being monitored.
"Hello sir. I'm told you procured the media I asked about?"
She was being very careful.
"I did. When do you want to review it?"
"I'm booked for the next couple days. Can you set something up with my private assistant?"
She didn't have a private assistant. Which meant she wanted me to contact her phone's AI and schedule things privately - without using the Company calendar, and without me mentioning any dates on this call. I frowned. Clearly she was being monitored, and the AIs would flag certain word choices as worth investigating. I hoped she wasn't in big trouble and hoped more that I wasn't.
"I'll do that. Thanks for your attention in this matter."
"Thank you as well." She disconnected.
I picked up Julianne and brought her home. She was extremely quiet in the car. I imagined she'd been pretty quiet in the car with Suzie, too.
I got home, flipped open the phone and dealt with scheduling a meeting with Cheryl. I was surprised to find Julianne looking over my shoulder. "Yes?"
"Her AI is tapped."
"Whoever you're scheduling with. Her phone's been tapped."
"How do you know?"
"Close the app and connect to her AI again."
Frowning, I did.
"There. The window opened right up but there was a little pause right after the AI appeared."
"By little pause you seem to mean a few milliseconds."
"So three questions, I think. Why were you looking at my phone, how did you even notice that pause, and how do you know it means a tap."
"In order: I'm trying to learn your weaknesses and vulnerabilities; I'm good at noticing things; and my soldier friends knew quite a lot about taps and spying in general, and taught me things."
I closed the app, and then the phone. And looked at her.
"Julianne, it's no secret that you don't like what I've done to you. But you just helped me. Why?"
"I'm not stupid, sir. I'm broke and I need your charity. If you're in trouble it might not go so well for me." She smiled, sarcastically. "You enslaved a pair of tits but you also got a pair of eyes."
I looked at her eyes. They looked back. I smiled, a very little bit.
"You can track shuffles, can't you."
"I'm not great at it ...but nit terrible at it either."
"And you didn't know I had the two aces?"
"I didn't. I was almost sure you didn't have a ten so I didn't believe you could get the straight you needed to beat me. I'm best at tracking the cards I had in my previous hand and the board; but I can't watch everything at once. By the way, your friend Greg tracks cards. He got annoyed when he couldn't follow my shuffles."
"Figures. And you don't think that's cheating?"
"Why, sir? It's how I was taught to play. The guys taught me to shuffle fast and randomly because they tracked cards, too."
I continued to look into her eyes.
"That's an unnerving smile, sir."
"I suspect it is. Let's make dinner."
She stared at the stuff I laid out. "Fresh vegetables. Spices. Frozen chicken. Is this ginger? You cook with fresh ginger?"
"Not all the time. Ginger is for special occasions."
"For me, fresh vegetables would be a special occasion."
"Get used to it."
"I'm afraid to."
I looked at her; of all the ways she'd told me she was unhappy with her fate over the last few days, that was the one that really stuck home with me. I didn't say anything, but I thought a lot, as I stir-fried the chicken. She cooked a cup of rice, and then tasted the vegetables I'd stirred up in the chicken's juices and spices. She thought for a moment, grabbed some orange juice from the fridge, and dumped in a tablespoon's worth. She stirred and tasted again, found some honey, and mixed in a tiny bit. She tasted again.
"I think I could learn to cook," she announced.
"It would not surprise me," I replied. "Try adding a half teaspoon of the wine vinegar."
She found it, sniffed it, and wrinkled her nose. But she measured some in and stirred and tasted.