Read Online Spare and Found Parts by Sarah Maria Griffin - Free Book Online Page B

pants and a thin gray cardigan, starched white shirt. Aggressive,formal. In some lights he was handsome in a way, but that was sharply undermined by the uneasy, greedy energy he exuded.
    His mothers were the proprietresses of Kelly & Kelly, a florist and an undertaker. He’d been adopted as an infant out of the orphanage; he had no augmented limbs, nothing visibly missing. Despite this, he received no preferential treatment from the other apprentices—an undertone of resentment at most. After he made his contribution, Oliver’s whole, healthy body could be his ticket out into the Pasture. Thing was he seemed intent on sticking around.
    Nell wished he’d go. She’d wave him off, throw flowers after him as he left town. She’d seen enough of him for a lifetime. At least the Saturday classes she’d shared with him had ended last year so that they could each focus on their contributions, but he still rattled around the house too often, asking her father questions and making a nuisance of himself.
    Those who didn’t have profitable enough trades to afford new models of their augmented limbs or those who couldn’t afford maintenance or needed a fix in a tick and didn’t have the time to go on Julian’s waiting list would go to Oliver, down at the morgue, and he would repair them for a discounted fee. This system, when perfected, would be his contribution. And thereit was: he’d have to stay in the city to maintain it. Stay near Nell.
    Oliver had taken this upon himself. Julian hadn’t stopped him; he was happy to have somebody else cover the things he couldn’t. He was happy his machines were getting reused; but he didn’t have time to dote on Oliver, and Nell was already technically his apprentice.
    â€œSo, how’s it going?” Oliver tried again, leaning closer to her.
    Nell stiffened; his cologne and the scent of formaldehyde were oppressive. She pulled her scarf higher around her chin.
    â€œI’m grand, Oliver. Same as usual.”
    Antoinette slammed down two short, fat tumblers of spirits, and Nell turned to her to pay. She had a small purse full of clunky plastic tokens; so much of the things they needed they got by trade, but the tokens still went an awfully long way. Ugly blue disks, something from a time long behind them.
    â€œIt’s fine. The Cranes and Kellys drink for free around here,” said Antoinette. “Remember that when the two of you get hitched and set up shop; I need regular fixes for the amount of action this old girl sees.” She flexed her beautiful, silent augmented arm. She waltzed off before they could thank her and left them alone.
    â€œWhat does she mean by that?” Nell snapped. “Do we have to go over this again, Oliver?” She wrapped her fingers around the glass. It was full of ice, and it was a relief against the heat of the room. If this conversation was about to go how she thought it would, it would mark the eighteenth time that Oliver had propositioned her to go into business together. Which implied courtship. Which implied marriage. Which implied kissing and sex. It was the sex part that irritated her most because naturally he would expect that immediately; clearly he expected it already. It utterly enraged Nell, and she had told him so. Seventeen times. And here he was again.
    Her no always fell on deaf ears with Oliver. Every few months he’d boomerang back to her with a new angle on the proposal. Sometimes it was because he truly loved her; others, because he could make sure they were wealthy. Once he promised that the relationship and marriage could be completely lavender—strictly chaste—as long as she convinced her father to teach him everything he knew. Worse than this, Oliver truly felt that if he kept telling everyone he was going to marry into the Crane legacy, eventually it would happen. At first his enthusiasm was endearing, and Nell and Ruby had giggled over it. But over