85 — Needle in a haystack

The photo this time isn’t really compromising, but just as Tyler predicted, they used the angle to create the perfect narrative. Even though a kiss doesn’t seem like something relevant — and something that only concerns my private life — the stalker attached an interesting detail when publishing it,
**[Angelee making out with her best friend’s now ex-boyfriend].**
These simple words are enough for people to start making absurd assumptions. Some replies related it to Laura’s pregnancy, and others accused me of being the reason she’s a single mother now, assuming that Tyler is the child’s father.
And from the satisfied smile on her face, she seems to be happy with the theories.
By now, it’s clear who’s responsible for these photos, but... I need proof. So I don’t even sit down to start work; I just walk quickly to the I.T. technician’s floor. And when the elevator doors open there, I start getting fearful looks that predict what will happen.
I walk quickly through the office, my heels clicking loudly on the floor. I try not to be nervous about the confrontation, but I’m an anxious person, and my fingertips are getting cold. The climate here is pleasant, though my body is hot to the point where a bead of sweat trickles down my spine inside my blouse.
There’s nothing I can do; I have to face it.
I stop in front of the desk of the guy I talked to last time. He’s staring at his computer, typing, without raising his eyes to glance at me. Once again, I seem invisible, almost like he hasn’t heard me approach... which is absurd because these heels really make noises.
So I clear my throat and reach across his desk, finally getting the attention of his brown eyes. He puts his lips into a smile, but they have no sympathy. He might be better looking if he wasn’t so unfriendly.
“Jackson, isn’t it?” I say, looking at the name on his uniform, and receive only a nod. “I think you know why I’m here.”
He blinks a few times, keeping silent... That makes me sigh harshly.
“Once again, they’re posting my private life on the company forums. I thought you were getting a lot of money to solve this problem... am I wrong?”
Faced with my serious tone, he moves restlessly in his chair, assuming a careful posture, but stays silent.
“Am I wrong, Jackson?” I insist, harsher. “Isn’t Mr. Adams generous with the amount offered to solve this problem?”
“Mr. Adams has been generous, miss.” He says calmly and pauses to sigh briefly, “But as stated in the report given to him, these are different accounts created with the credentials of former employees.”
“And how are these credentials still active?” I say harshly, not liking the tone in which he speaks to me. “Besides, how would anyone have access to those credentials?”
My words startle him because he looks suddenly uncomfortable, moving even more restlessly in his chair.
“Look, Jackson,” I lean over his desk, still resting my hand on his table. My eyes are steady, like my voice, as I add, “You can do more than that. You’re getting paid more than enough for a well-done job, so why don’t you do it?”
“We’re doing the best we can, miss.”
“Really? Isn’t there anything else that can be done?” I raise an eyebrow, “I don’t know... maybe track down the location of the phone or computer from which these posts are coming?”
He seems surprised by my suggestion. And I think that might lead down a good new path, but...
“We’ve already done that, of course.” He emphasizes sarcastically. “As stated in the report to Mr. Adams, The device used to publish the photos shows the exact same location.”
“But that’s great, isn’t it?” I say, excited, with my heart racing. “If you’ve got a location, can’t you find the identity of the stalker?”
“Unfortunately, miss... The location shown is this building.” His words are like a punch in my stomach; they completely steal me the air. “It has never left here.”
“What does that mean?” My voice comes out shaky. I’m so stunned that I can’t care for the sarcastic laugh he lets out.
“This means there’s no way of finding out who owns the device that makes these posts because it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. There’s no way of knowing which floor it’s on, which room... just that it’s in the building. And if they use other credentials, finding out who it belongs is impossible.”
I breathe harshly, running a hand through my hair, brushing it back... I just styled it, and now it’s all messed up...
Hah, just bad news everywhere... I need concrete proof, not just assumptions.
“Is there nothing you can really do?” I ask, nibbling my fingernail. “If it doesn’t leave the building, they get the images some other way. There’s no way of finding out how?”
The boy snorts, not caring how rude he is, and says, almost like he’s annoyed, “Look, miss... There’s no *legal* way of doing this, and I’m certainly not the right person for this kind of job.”
“Really?” I slam my hand down on his desk again, making his body shudder slightly. “Maybe you should have said that before taking the money from this company. Or should I remind you that your team is, in a way, responsible for what’s happening?”
“No, but-”
“Yes, your incompetence is causing me so much trouble! You failed to close the credentials and failed when you allowed people access to it! Your mistake makes me wonder if other wrongdoings aren’t happening under your eyes.” I notice that he swallows dryly, his breath suddenly short. “This is no small mistake, Jackson. Because of this failure, crimes are being committed. What do you think would happen if I wasn’t the owner’s daughter and I sued the company?”
He remains silent, looking at me with a surprised expression, his eyebrows so up that he doesn’t look like the same arrogant guy who treated me with disdain.
“The company would lose a lot. But do you know who would lose more?” I force a smile and then slam my hand down on the table again, making his body jump and attracting other eyes. *“You.* You’d lose a lot more.”
“Miss...”
“Maybe I should settle this right here? Fire all of you and hire professionals who can do what they’re being paid for?”
“No...” He straightens up in his chair, keeping his eyes withered, adding softly, “I... I will be a father... I can’t lose my job right now.”
“Well then, why don’t you open your computer and find out what I’m telling you?” I point at his computer, “If you don’t, I really will fire you.”
I look around, looking at all the faces around me, and adding, “All of you.”
Once again, I turn my eyes to Jackson, who is shrugging, looking down.
“They posted something new today... Take a look; maybe you’ll find something new. In fact, I *really hope* you find something... And don’t just report it to Mr. Adams... I want a copy too.”
“Right, got it.” He mutters so low that I can barely hear him.
I open my lips to reply, but my phone buzzes and attracts my attention. The screen lights up with a message from Julian, which I open quickly. It sends a shiver down my spine because I’m certainly not prepared to deal with him right now…
But, well, *better now than later, right?* This subject has given me the necessary adrenaline to face it, so let’s do it.
I sigh deeply and turn away, walking back to the elevator, once again aware that my heels tap on the porcelain tiles, matching the way my heart pounds.
Fortunately, time seems to be in my favor, as it unfolds faster than usual. It’s really curious how the seconds, minutes, and hours are always the same, but our perception of them always changes. A while ago, I cursed the elevator for being so slow — now I wonder if it couldn’t go a little slower.
But of course, it doesn’t; when the metal doors open again, almost in a flash, I drag myself out with my conviction already threatening to fail. People around look at me with contempt, and I wonder what on earth they have concluded in their minds. *Maybe I stole Laura’s boyfriend. Maybe I’ve destroyed a family and left a baby without a father.* A monster, a despicable person.
I don’t know; the possibilities are wide, but I can feel it... under their eyes, I seem to be the worst person in this world.
As I make my way to Julian’s room, I notice familiar faces near Laura, almost like they are comforting her... Deborah, Naomi, and Grace, of course. They look at me with a serious, furious expression, perhaps because Laura’s eyes are watery and slightly swollen. They’re pitting her, but I don’t believe any of her tears or words.
Unfortunately, no one sees what I see.
I walk past them without paying another glance, completely ignoring their judgment. They look at me like I’m responsible for Laura’s crying when she’s the one who’s been backstabbing me, hurting me, and doing so many bad things for who knows how long. But I’ll soon expose all her sins and take down everyone who talked crap behind my back.
Finally, I stop in front of Julian’s door and knock twice. The whispering around me reaches my ears, but I don’t understand what they’re saying; I’m sure it’s just another lie or a free insult. I don’t mind, really. But I confess that hearing Julian’s permission to enter his office is a real relief... Which doesn’t last long because the moment I open his door and step into the room, I can already see his intense green eyes on me.
The air is suddenly heavy when I’m fully inside this large room that’s *too small* for both of us.
I close the door gently, and its hollow slam sends a shiver down my spine… maybe it’s because the tension between us is so deep that we don’t even need to touch. I turn to Julian again, almost fearfully... and he’s getting up from his chair, walking towards me.
And I think he will come closer, but he goes to the window and pulls down the curtains. This simple and harmless movement makes me hold my breath, flustered, with a chill spreading through my chest.
When the blinds are finally closed, assuring the privacy he seeks, Julian walks to the couch, nodding for me to do the same.
He sits down and taps the couch beside him, inviting me to sit. I obey without saying a word, my legs tightly closed, knees pressed together so that no shiver dares to turn into a tickle in my lower belly.
With my eyes fixed on my feet and the black heels that seem so small, I cling to anything other than his presence... other than the smell of his cologne, always so cozy.
But Julian’s hand reaches for my face, his thumb sliding across my cheek, forcing me to look directly into those green eyes, so intense and beautiful that they steal my breath away.
“Morning has come…” He smiles subtly, then slides his thumb up to my mouth, brushing his finger across my lower lip, “If I tell you now, will you believe me?”