It wasn’t the first conflict between Dr. Thorne and Mr. Dunney, and it would certainly not be the last. In fact, they were famous for their recurring bickering. Newcomers would always think they were an item. The old-timers knew better but mockingly referred to them as husband and wife anyway.

Rostam knew that Dr. Thorne’s beef with Mr. Dunney could simply be reduced to their different approach to risk: he loved it too much; she was a strategist. As far as she was concerned, there was no such thing as chance. His randomness defied her strategic mind; her visceral aversion to risk paralysed his talent for bringing other people on his side and seizing opportunities at the right moment. Never mind thinking for the long haul; Sales had to be clinched today, not tomorrow. It was precisely his intense focus on the present that made him the perfect tactician.

Still, when they weren’t in combat, they were perfect complements. After all, they had built an impressive business together.

The conflict he just had witnessed had sounded like much more than just the weekly “spousal” argument Rostam was used to, though. Mr. Dunney’s disposition had been hostile: a quality Rostam had never recognized in him before.

He wasn’t interested in office politics, and therefore he did not know the particulars of this meeting, but he knew enough to understand that the people in that room were determining the future of the company. His employer. His job.

A job that he might lose after today.

Someone had used his credentials to mess with Anna on the production system.

Rostam didn’t know what to do, so he did what all office folks were conditioned to do in cases of not knowing what to do: seek refuge in neutral territory. He desperately needed a double espresso.

On his way to the coffee corner he ran into the other Board Members returning from their break. They seemed to be in good spirits, which confused him, especially after witnessing Dr. Thorne’s and Mr. Dunney’s clash. He saw Gretchen chit-chat with the finance guy. Both of them looked quite relaxed; slightly flirtatious even. Jealousy stung him briefly, but he realised that this was their standard office behaviour. When they passed him, she covertly squeezed his hand. He felt panic rise up from his chest. Had anyone seen that? Usually, he loved these little tokens of affection; now, he was too paranoid to enjoy their secret office flirt.

Rostam calculated the possibilities of how this would play out.

It was very well possible that Dr. Thorne already knew someone had been messing around with Anna. Rostam realised he might just have witnessed Dr. Thorne accusing her business partner of this very same fact. In any case, if she knew, the system probably already was under surveillance, which meant that he best stay away. But by staying away, there was no way to verify if there weren’t any traces

Of course it was possible Dr. Thorne didn’t know Anna had been messed with. Until she found out, there wouldn’t be any surveillance, which would give him time to investigate. The problem with that scenario was that at least someone knew Anna had been messed with. Whoever this someone was, he didn’t want to give this motherfucker any leverage by presenting them the perfect opportunity to blame the Anna hack on him.

Either way, he was screwed. His studies had nearly bankrupted and fifty thousand profiles on several social media had offered fantastic opportunities to make a little money on the side. No harm done. Just a few clicks here and there and he didn’t even need to log on. Anna could be indirectly controlled with tweets, using certain hashtags. They did this all the time; whenever Anna ‘started working’ for a new customer, they had to teach what to visit, like and comment on. Rostam had kept these interventions to a minimum, because he knew Dr. Thorne could spot statistical anomalies from miles away. But with an imminent investigation, she would certainly discover his little click farm.

Rostam watched Gretchen enter the room last. Before she closed the door, she looked straight at him and winked. He just stood there, paralysed. A terrible thought was trying to settle in his brain, and he desperately tried to push it away. He felt cold all of a sudden.

He knew that when someone used your credentials, it wasn’t personal and surely wasn’t done to set you up, contrary to what techno thriller television shows might want you to believe. Real life was much simpler. His account was hacked because he was the perpetrator’s easiest way to get in. He suddenly felt unforgivingly stupid.

Don’t let it be her. Please

He really wanted to find out who did it now. Thinking again, there was perhaps a way to get access to the production system without raising suspicion. He produced his telephone from his pocket and entered a message.

“Sorry to bother you. I wanted to tell you. Someone used my ID to mess with Anna in production. But think you know already…“

He didn’t expect an answer right away. But before he could put the phone back in his pocket, it vibrated. He got a reply.

“Hey handsome. Boring part has started. Dinner tonight?“

Damn. Not a reply. Gretchen wanted to secure her evening, apparently. He felt manipulated, which was completely insane, because Gretchen couldn’t possibly know that he suspected her of using his userid.  Or could she? Was he under surveillance already? No no no no, this is a coincidence, he corrected himself. All in all, he could still be wrong.

The phone started vibrating again.

“What happened?“

Dr. Thorne had replied. Apparently, Gretchen wasn’t the only one being bored.

“Not sure. Some unauthorized deployment last week or so. Don’t know details, but it wasn’t me. Wanted you to know that.“

It was a long shot, but given that Dr. Thorne was trapped in that meeting, it might actually work.

“Need details. Pls check“

Rostam stared at the screen and raised an eyebrow. His plan had worked. She had just given him a legitimate reason to log on to production. He instantly felt better.

Maybe he would not be fired after all. He would of course have to explain how someone else got his password and he would definitely be reprimanded for being so sloppy with the security requirements and Dr. Thorne would certainly be disappointed and he would have to think about a story as to not to raise too much suspicion about his secret affair with Gretchen and he was still hoping it hadn’t been her and there still was the issue with his click farm but at least he had time to find out if the source of his tweets was logged and if they were he could maybe change it to cover his tracks and the phone started vibrating again, snapping him out of his stream of thoughts. He was frantic.

“OK. On it.“

He downed his double espresso and headed for his desk. Thank you Dr. Thorne.

His phone vibrated again.

“Anyone home?“

Oh shit. He totally forgot about Gretchen’s invitation.

As he wasn’t sure it had been her who had tampered with his account, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. For now. He was also pretty curious about what was going on in that meeting room and perhaps he could find out some interesting things tonight over dinner. And if she indeed was guilty, he also wanted to sleep with her one last time before confronting her.

Before he could reply, another message arrived. Anonymous sender.

“Clicks&likes. YouTube+FB. Usual payout. Start 22pm.“