Neville set the food down on the table in front of the sofa and hesitated.
"Is this better than the dining table?" he asked, suddenly uncertain.
The table seemed too low for comfortable eating while sitting on the couch.
Grayson looked at him with an expression that bordered on disbelief. "You don't know this table can be adjusted?"
"Adjusted?"
Without another word, Grayson reached under the table's edge and pressed a button Neville had never noticed before.
The table hummed softly and rose, its height adjusting until it was perfect for eating from the sofa—not too high, not too low.
It was even movable.
Neville stared at the table.
Then at his hands.
Then back at the table.
He had lived in this apartment for nearly a year and a half. For more than a year. And he had never once thought to check if the furniture here had hidden features.
Does this mean that the others have other functions too?
[HAHAHAHA!] Shelly's laughter exploded in his head. [Host, you're so—]
