Turning off my ringing phone I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. Ever since I'd woken up phone call after phone call had come through, demanding to ask why I'd dropped all the companies I managed. Unable to tell them the truth I had just given a mumbled reply and then hung up.
But businessmen, of course, are persistent. And so my phone was vibrating and playing tunes until I was sick to death, I having ignored most of them.
"You've made the headlines, sir," Kevin said, flying over with a newspaper outstretched in his robotic, claw-like hands. I took it reluctantly and my eyebrows shot up.
'Rogers Ruins Economy' screamed the text. I groaned and threw it across the table, hitting my head on the desk and staying there.
"I knew that this was going to be trouble," Georgina muttered, picking up the newspaper and reading the article. "Do you want me to read it out?"
"Eurghng..."
"I'll take that as a yes." She flipped the paper open and started to narrate the bad news.
"Ever since this morning, as the first calls rolled in," she said, "Pepper Rogers, billionaire scientist, has been ignoring his companies.
'Giving no reason as to his sudden decision to break off from the world his various previously-managed companies have taken offence and are looking for new managing directors. Many of these businesses are banks, laboratories and even a branch of the NHS.' Is that still running?"
"Yes."
"Oh, okay. 'Keeping only his own company, Spirit Metal, Rogers has declined to comment. More information will be placed on the website.
'Here at The News we give Mr Rogers a piece of advice: go back to what you're best at, managing companies and inventing in the safety of your own home. Now you are open to attack and will be constantly harassed.
'This may be the biggest mistake you've ever made." Georgina finished and refolded the paper.
"Was that written by Lotte, by any chance?" I murmured, still not looking up. Lotte had become a journalist after coming back to life, working for (and running, thanks to me) 'The News', the worldwide newspaper that wrote whatever they wanted as well as telling the story plainly and clearly. It was good if you wanted facts and an opinion to talk about, bad if you wanted the weather as everything was rainbows in Lotte's world.
"What do you think?" Georgina replied, sliding the paper across the table towards me. I ignored it and sat back, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling glumly.
"Sir, there are reporters outside for you," Kevin said. I moaned and buried my head in my hands once more.
"Send them to the conference room," I ordered. "I'll be there at some point, I need to get changed out of my pyjamas first."
*
Sat at the front of a large, airy room behind a long white table I watched as the reporters filed into the room. I'd changed from my blue nightwear into a black, pinstripe suit, open collared and tieless.
"They're all in," Kevin said, flying past my head and settling on the desk for added information. He was a little like a mobile computer that could think and give you the correct data without you asking it to.
Immediately a forest of hands was raised. I hesitated, unable to decide, panic setting in.
To save my skin Kevin decided to take charge. "The lady in the green top," he said in a pleasant, almost-human voice. A while ago his speaking function had broken down and I'd had to redesign his voice, much to my sadness. My dad had made him in the first place and had given the hoverpod his voice, a husky, voluminous sound that had first spoken to me to tell me I wasn't allowed alcohol.
"Why did you suddenly drop all of your outside companies?" she queried, rising to her feet. There was a muttering around the room and styluses were poised over electronic tablets.
"It was due to forces beyond my control," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "I had no say in the matter."
"So are you being blackmailed then?" the woman pressed.
"I don't really know much about the matter in hand."
"Then why do as you were told when you didn't have all the facts?"
Boy, is she persistent.
"I was told what to do via means of threat and so I did it. Another speaker, please." I looked down at the desk and started to tap a nervous rhythm with my fingertips, jumpy adrenaline coursing through me.
A man stood up, a recording machine held out in front of him. "You say that you were threatened," he began, "but how? All the facts, please."
"I really can't say anything," I replied. "But I can tell you that I wasn't threatened directly. People I care about were."
"Like your fiancée, for example? Congratulations on the engagement, by the way. I bet she won't stick around after this calamity."
Do these reporters ever shut up?
"Yes, but that was my fault," I said, glancing at Georgina who was stood at the back of the room. Her eyebrows flicked up briefly and she rolled her eyes, giving the reporter a withering look.
"And if she doesn't," I continued, a smile growing on my face, "then I'll disable her arm."
Georgina's look of horror and the reporter's look of shock made me fall about with laughter. That's what happens when I'm nervous - I do stupid things.
"Next question," Kevin said hurriedly. Lotte stood up, twirling a paintbrush between her fingers for some reason.
"Have you two set a date for the wedding yet?" was her question. Georgina groaned and I sagged down in my seat.
"Please don't talk about that," I begged, "I'm stressed enough right now."
"Same over here," Georgina muttered, tapping her foot against the wall. Lotte laughed and sat back down.
"Is there any more questions?" I asked. One person raised their hand. A man with very pale skin, pink eyes and white hair stood up.
An Albino. Cool.
"Has your third task arrived yet?" he said quietly. "And did you show it anyone?"
"Um..." I hesitated, trying to phrase the facts in the best way I could. "No, it hasn't. And like it stated, Georgina did see it, but she's trustworthy."
"You understood the warning..."
"Yes, yes. And that brings an end to the session!" I cried, standing and clapping my hands together. "Um, thank you for coming, I hope you got what you came for..."
"What was all that about?" the woman in the green top shouted. "Who is this guy?"
"Never seen him before, never will again. Kevin will escort you out." I stayed in place, a fixed smile spread across my features. The second the door shut it vanished and I collapsed back into my chair.
"I hate talking to people," I wailed. "Why can't they just leave me alone?!"
"Because you're famous, you're fabulous and you got into the newspapers," Georgina said, walking to the front of the room and sitting on an abandoned chair.
"They didn't interrogate Clarkson as much when he punched someone," I grumbled.
"That was years ago and you're more powerful than he is," Georgina retorted. "Of course you're going to get more press coverage. And anyway, they tried, he just didn't elaborate about anything."
"Fine..." I sighed and rested my elbows on the desk, propping my chin up in my hands. "I want to sleep now but I can't, I have to work and wait and-"
"Calm down, shut up, go upstairs and give me your phone," Georgina said firmly. "I'll look after things for you now."
I rose from the desk and jumped over it, wrapping her up in a giant hug. "Thank you," I whispered in her ear, smiling gratefully. "Thank you."
"No big deal," she said, extracting herself from my embrace and regarding me with a half pitying, half adoring look. "It means that I get to have all the food and you don't."
"I'm not hungry," I said, moving away and blurring upstairs. I flopped onto the bed, snatched up my pyjamas that I'd left abandoned in a heap and got changed quicker than I ever had before. Sighing contentedly I wrapped the duvet around myself, curling up, closing my eyes and slipping into sleep.