Adventures of the Artificial Woman Read Online Free Page A

hefty, with blunt features and a narrow mouth, Janet was not unattractive but would never turn a head.
    When they withdrew to the dining area after preliminary drinks at the other end of the room, with visits to the terrace to toast the lights of the city on such a clement evening, Pierce seated Hallstrom between himself at the head of the table and Ray, the purpose being to keep the heterosexual neighbor from putting too much scrutiny on Phyllis, something Ray was unlikely to do. On the other side, it was Cliff who flanked her, Janet at Pierce’s right elbow.
    Phyllis, unassisted, brought the hot dishes from the kitchen. Pierce wanted to keep her moving, though the inevitable moment came when everything was in place and she had to sit down and face the music—as if it were she who had to handle the strain! He was so nervous he all but cut himself while carving the crown roast of lamb, though the dish, not she, was the cynosure.
    â€œWhat’s the stuffing?” asked Ray, who turned out to be the cook of the pair, though he was the brawnier, with the jaw of a lineman.
    â€œA forcemeat of minced lamb,” Phyllis said.
    â€œAnd this is—fennel?” asked Janet, passing the dish. “What a beautiful menu, Phyllis.”
    A mashed-potato lookalike turned out to be a puree of parsnips, scented and delicate. Pierce was at one with the others in never having heard of it. Phyllis was grandstanding as a newlywed. Was that good or bad? At the moment everybody was distracted by the food, but Janet’s nose was probably en route to being out of joint. Pierce had heard Hallstrom praise her cookery, of which, skinny as he was, he hardly served as advertisement.
    It took no more than one taste for Cliff to raise his glass to Phyllis, a gesture soon duplicated by the others. “This,” said he, “would be well worth a detour, as the French say.”
    To which Hallstrom responded, “Hear, hear.”
    â€œPlease admit it, Phyllis,” said Janet. “You’re on a professional level.”
    Phyllis replied with her quote about the best ingredients, which seemed to go over well with the men, but Janet balked, fending off the comment with raised fingers that, Pierce noted, were exquisitely shaped. Perhaps he could have done a better job with Phyllis’s, not that anything was wrong with those she was now using to “eat” the meal she had prepared so well.
    â€œPlease,” Janet was saying. “ I can overcook the finest organic veggies from the best boutique farms. You ask Tyler.”
    Fearing that Phyllis might not be able to elude Janet’s bitchy trap, which was really designed for its effect on Hallstrom—who between forkfuls was seemingly trying to catch the eye of the artificial woman—Pierce stepped in.
    â€œTyler brags about your prowess in the kitchen. Let’s say both he and I have wonderful wives.”
    â€œAs do I,” Cliff noted without bravado or defiance.
    Ray thanked him and then confessed to Phyllis that about all he could do that could be counted on was broiled steak.
    Now Pierce’s fear was that his animatronic spouse would innocently say something that could be taken the wrong way by the sensitive, but before he could intrude again, Phyllis said, “Then I want some pointers from you. I’ve never cooked steak.”
    Janet frowned suspiciously, the corrugated forehead doing nothing for her looks.
    â€œWe eat steak only in the country,” Pierce explained, “where I man the barbecue.”
    â€œI want the recipes for everything,” Ray announced. “It’s high time I get more ambitious. I want to say right now, the next get-together must be at our house.”
    Everyone but Pierce assented with enthusiasm, including Phyllis. Pierce wondered whether he had made a mistake in having come up with the idea to expose her to society in this fashion. He did not want them—her and him—to acquire