Jane Weston impatiently tapped her Gucci clad toe on the marble foyer floor as the liveried Global Freight workers slowly wheeled in the large crate. Jesus, they were typical men: moving like molasses, devoid of any sense of urgency. Jane had a low opinion of men in general since she had booted her philandering bastard of a husband out two years ago. A good private detective and an even better lawyer had helped her exact her revenge to the tune of forty million dollars. She had used half the money to start her own investment banking business and now she was in the enviable position of using her own money to bankroll worthwhile start ups. She had parlayed his money into a sizable fortune, thanks to a keen eye for opportunity and a barracuda-like negotiating style.
At thirty-five, Jane was smart, beautiful, successful -- and miserably unhappy. She was unhappy because she was lonely. And Jane was often angry because she was unhappy and lonely. Unfortunately, she directed most of her anger at the men she dated, guaranteeing that she stayed lonely and miserable. Jane felt the problem was in the men themselves; they were all either cavalier, condescending, or after her money. She hoped that the contents of the aluminum shipping container would change all that.
Jane had the delivery men leave the crate standing upright in the foyer, signed the delivery ticket, and showed them out.
"Get a grip woman," she chided herself, mocking her own eagerness. "This is only a prototype, it probably won't even work properly."
'It' was 'Mister Wonderful', the brainchild of the Intercontinental Machinery Corporation, and Jane's latest venture capital investment. IMC was a small defense research company that was working on military robotics applications. Budget cuts in the Department of Defense had axed IMC's funding. Now the company was scrambling to finance the development of a civilian version of the robot. The company's brass was touting Mr. Wonderful as a bio-mechanical man that a woman could program to be the perfect mate. Jane knew beyond a doubt that if the machine worked as advertised it would make IMC- and her- a ton of money. She had written IMC a check on the spot for half of what they asked. She stipulated that when she received the first commercially viable model, they would get the remainder of the money.
Each Mr. Wonderful was custom built based on a questionnaire the buyer filled out at the company's web site. Jane had specified a six-two, two hundred pound outdoorsman; ruggedly handsome, with jet black hair and deep blue eyes.
Jane unfastened the latches and opened the container. She removed the Styrofoam packing material and gasped in disbelief. He looked perfect, abso-fuckin-lutely perfect. Jane went to her bedroom and retrieved the certified letter from Intercontinental that she had received two days ago. The letter contained the passcode that would activate her beautiful new man. The machine was voice activated, so she carefully regurgitated the sequence of letters and numbers then stepped back.
The robot's eyes opened and he smiled at her with perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth, again, just as she had specified.
"Hello, Jane, the machine said, "that is an especially flattering outfit. It sets off your complexion and beautiful eyes."
His voice was deep and melodic, and his eyes were the same dark blue as her favorite Japanese porcelain vase.
He spoke again, "Jane, my darling, love of my life, my reason to exist, my name is Cody, Cody Carson."
"You're laying it on a little thick, Romeo," Jane said tersely.
Cody's eyes closed and his face went slack for a split second as he tried to process what she said.
"I don't understand what you mean by that," he said.
"I mean the bullshit flattery annoys me," she replied.
Bullshit was a concept that he did understand.
"I am sorry that I annoyed you, but what I said was how I am programmed to feel; you are the reason I exist."
"Well tone it down some, especially when we're in public. I want you to be attentive but not fawning. Does that compute?"
"Yes, dear," he replied.
Jane stepped forward and touched his hand; his skin was warm and the texture was lifelike. She held the hand up and examined it critically, glancing from hers to his, looking for obvious differences. There were none.
"My skin is biologically engineered to replicate the skin of a thirty year old male. It is anatomically correct in texture to three decimal places. In addition, I can sense your body temperature and adjust mine to always be one degree warmer," Cody said.
Oh god, a man that could keep her warm at night was worth his weight in gold to Jane.
Cody was dressed in khaki trousers, pale blue shirt, and a dark blue blazer. He looked so good Jane couldn't wait to show him off.
''Go get the car out of the garage, I want to go shopping," she said, tossing him the keys.
"Shopping is fun. That's a wonderful idea, darling," Cody said.