What You Need

Lourdes believed that whoever said sensible heels were the perfect combination of utility and sophistication must not wear heels. By the time she flopped onto her downy hotel bed that night, she was sure her feet were no more than bricks made of bones and bruises.

"ASHLI," she hissed as she pried off the pumps. "Call Dave."

The soft ringer resonated through the room while she massaged her toes. No one answered.

ASHLI's gentle voice chimed through the gold cuff slung over the curve of Lourdes' ear. The sparkling amethyst inlay glimmered as she spoke. "Would you like me to try again?"

Lourdes' gaze flicked to her watch. She should have known he'd be asleep by now, but the disappointment of not saying goodnight to her husband three nights in a row still broke her heart. "No."

"Would you like to hear a menu for room service? The kitchen closes in twelve minutes."

"No."

"Would you like hear the selection of films offered at this hotel?"

"No. I'm going to sleep."

The hotel room, a cold, familiar place, became more sterile, more cavernous as she sat barefooted and fully clothed over the snowy duvet. She scrambled for conversation. "Big day tomorrow, ASHLI. If I don't convince McGrall Ventures I've got their golden ticket, the company's toast."

The device blinked. "Your blood pressure is lower than average. You may be dehydrated." A low whirring hummed over her ear. "There is a bottle of filtered water in the minibar. Shall I add it to your bill?"

Lourdes reached behind her back for her zipper, smacking her dry lips together. "Sure. Go ahead."

The resonant chime dinged with an upward flourish. "Done."

Minutes later, Lourdes reclined against the headboard, braless and shoeless, but still dressed. She sipped her water and mulled the possibilities held in tomorrow's answer. The fate of her entire career hinged on one word from a single pair of lips.

She needed to talk to Dave. "ASHLI," she whispered, but stopped when she realized she'd just get his voicemail again.

"Yes?" the voice prompted.

"Never mind."

"What do you need?"

Lourdes took a long drink of water. "For tomorrow to go well. To know that this whole journey hasn't been a crazy dream spiraling nowhere."

"Would you like for me to schedule a massage for tomorrow?"

"No. I don't want a massage." She chuckled, forcing back tears. "I just need a hug or something."

It may have been a trick of her tired mind, but Lourdes was sure she heard the melodious murmur of ASHLI's computer at work behind the shell of her ear.

"ASHLI," Lourdes tried again, if only to hear a friendly voice. "What's tomorrow's schedule?"

To her shock, the response was delayed. "There has been a shift in your schedule. Your morning meeting has been moved from eight-thirty to eight. Do you accept this modification?"

Lourdes groaned. "Fine."

"There has been a shift in your schedule. Your lunch meeting has been cancelled and rescheduled for Thursday. Do you accept this modification?"

"Yes."

"There has been a shift in your schedule."

Lourdes sat up farther. "What?"

"Your afternoon presentation has moved from three to twelve-forty-five. Do you accept this modification?"

"Okay. Is a client making these?"

ASHLI didn't answer.

"ASHLI?"

"Yes?"

Lourdes settled back into the pillows. "Are you happy?"

"My priority is your productivity and health."

Lourdes put her empty bottle on the nightstand. "Do you ever want a vacation? Is there a virtual beach for AI assistants?" She felt stupid for asking, but she just really didn't want to force herself to sleep in the stuffy silence of her hotel room for the fifth night in a row.

"Would you like for me to schedule a flight to Myrtle Beach?"

Sliding under the covers and flipping on her side, Lourdes tried to hold back the wave of loneliness that rushed over her. "Do you remember when we went to Myrtle Beach?"

"You visited Myrtle Beach two years ago for your anniversary with David Vasquez."

The pressure in her chest increased. She couldn't hold the tears back anymore. They slipped out and pooled on the cool pillow under her cheek as she tried to hide her sniffle.

"Your heart rate has increased."

"I'm aware," Lourdes said through a sob.

"Would you like for me to play music until you fall asleep?"

She nodded her head.

"I require a verbal response."

"Yes. Please." Lourdes wept silently, hugging the pillow. The melodious fluttering of Chopin's "Raindrop" was her only response.

The next morning, Lourdes woke as a steely, resolute entrepreneur ready to win the hearts and contracts of McGrall Ventures. She scowled at her sensible pumps, but stuffed her feet into them anyway.

It was time. Shaking off her nerves, cracking her neck on the left and right, she stood outside the door, her future waiting inside. With her laptop under her arm and her assistant in her ear, Lourdes closed her eyes and exhaled, electric anxiety coursing under her skin.

"What do you think, ASHLI? Are we going to get a 'yes'?"

"I cannot determine outcomes based—"

"Yes," a voice said behind her. "You're going to get a 'yes' because no one has worked harder for this than you."

Lourdes spun around, eyes wide in surprise as Dave approached, his weekend bag over his shoulder.

She wrapped her arms around her husband. "How did you—Aren't you supposed to be home?"

The light of the hotel lobby played off the gold sheen of the device curved against his ear. "ASHLI reconfigured my schedule and booked a last-minute flight." Dave wrapped his arms around his wife as she squeezed him tighter. "We've got the afternoon free. Give us something to celebrate."

Releasing him, Lourdes smiled wide. She kissed him and turned to face the conference room doors again. "I've got this."

Nearly two hours passed. When Lourdes emerged, ASHLI's voice floated through the couple's shared connection. "I will have the champagne delivered to your room."