This story was a request.
*****
Nick grabbed for some ice cubes from the freezer and brought them to his forehead, hoping to alleviate his crippling hangover. He could feel the pulse of his throbbing headache moving through the ice he held tight against his skin. It melted quickly. The cool water ran down and around his eyebrows, falling off his face and quietly dripping onto the tile floor below.
He sighed to himself, "Why does this always happen to me?"
Opening the refrigerator door, he quietly replied to himself in a knowing voice, "Because Nick. You're lonely."
He reached in and grabbed for a quart of orange juice, hoping the sweet and tangy drink could alleviate both the dry acrid taste in his mouth and the swelling of unpleasant thoughts in his mind.
It felt light, empty.
"Fuck." Without thought, Nick tossed the paper carton across the kitchen, watching it collide against the mahogany cabinet opposite him. Several rivulets of orange liquid ran down the wooden surface, emerging from small cracks where the paper container had been compromised.
He groaned in defeat, "It's not even all the way empty."
Reluctantly, he grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels and walked over to the mess. As he squatted down a knock on the door echoed out from the entry way.
In a puzzled tone, Nick whispered, "What? Who knocks on peoples doors anymore."
Stopping what he was doing, he got up and jogged into his living room, his wake tossing a small stack of lingerie advertisements and bikini pamphlets onto the ground.
He passed a decorative couch on his way to the front door, rubbing his fingertips along the length of its smooth leather surface.
His heart rate quickened as he peered through the heavy oak door's peephole; on the other side stood an incredibly attractive woman in somewhat revealing business attire. She must of heard him approach, because immediately her light brown eyes focused in on the peephole and she smiled.
Nick hastily un-did the dead-bolt and pulled the door open, facing the beauty in front of him.
She continued smiling, the mid-morning sun glimmering through the small gaps in her shoulder length dirty-blonde hair.
Nick continued staring, solely focusing in on her elegant face, his expansive front yard reduced to a hazy blur at the sides of his vision.
He watched her glossy red lips open, delicately guiding her sultry smooth voice as it exited her mouth, "Nick?"
The words blew past him as his focused gaze found its way down to the woman's generous bosom. The brown leather strap of her over-sized handbag elegantly weaved through her exposed bubbly cleavage; the tops of her buoyant D-Cup sized breasts erupting from the low cut neck of her skimpy white blouse.
"Nicholas Moore?"
Being referred to as 'Nicholas' caught him off guard.
"Please, it's just Nick. Nick Moore."
He straightened his gaze upwards, meeting her amber eyes, suddenly conscious of how lewd his ogling must appear. Her face was striking; it was classically attractive. Her blemishless even-tanned skin was pulled taut over her pronounced cheekbones, neatly framing a slender nose. Her glossy pink lips were perfectly puffy and her brown eyebrows dark and distinct.
"Hi Nick, I'm Sierra." She extended her hand towards him. He reciprocated the gesture, shaking her hand, momentarily savoring the delicate softness of her fingers and palm.
He answered nervously, "Hi Sierra, I'm...Nick! But...you know that already." Their handshake ended and he pulled his hand back, awkwardly clapping it against the opposite, "So...uh...how can I help you Sierra?"
Sierra beamed a smile, almost shaking with excitement, "I'm here for you!"
In the bottom of his periphery Nick noticed the tops of her beasts jiggling, so with stoic determination he pulled his eyes down to the ground. He immediately took note of her nicely toned calves which ended in a simple pair of shiny black office pumps. His eyes slowly drifted upwards, observing how her athletic thighs disappeared up and into a pleated high-cut skirt that elegantly matched her footwear.
Grinning with equal parts curiosity and excitement, he chuckled, "Okay...Here for me...how?"
Sierra ceased her enthusiastic quivering. Her smile closed, flipping into a confused frown, "You ordered me! I'm Sierra, my current appearance is exactly tuned to your physical preferences. My personality is specifically adapted to please you!"
Nick's jaw dropped so far it hurt, "I ordered you?" His voice began to rise with anger, thinking this was just some hooker trying to play coy and come after his fortune. "When did I order you?! What did I even order!? What are you, some kind of call-girl or something!!" His voice echoed through his yard, carrying over the fence nearly a quarter mile away.
Sierra cocked her head at Nick, her pretty face quickly taking on a puzzled expression, "I'll try to answer you in the order you asked, Nick...Yes, you ordered me. You ordered me this morning at 2:22 AM. I'm not a call-girl or something; I'm a FORMARE Companion Bot, Serial Number SJ-090245-12." She flashed him the trademarked FORMARE flirty grin and ran her hands down her svelte body, showing off her supple curves, "Do you remember now?"
Nick looked at Sierra in complete bewilderment, his mouth agape. He was too astonished and suspicious to make a judgement call right now. Hell, he was too flabbergasted to even attempt a response.
He coughed out, "You're...you're...you're a robot? But you seem so real."
"Yep! In the flesh!" Sierra put emphasis on the word 'flesh' and sensing Nick's difficulty at grasping the reality of his current situation, decided to step in to move the process along, "Do you have an iComm or anything on you?"
Nick nodded.
Sweetly, Sierra replied, "Well can I see it? I can show you what I'm talking about. It might jog your memory."
Nick slowly grabbed his iComm out of his pocket and hesitatingly, handed it towards Sierra who eagerly accepted it.