The Ex Factor. Eva Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ I don’t mind either way,’ he said. ‘I was just curious. The personal details are secure, anyway. But someone’s been hacking you. Look, all the profile pictures—well, they’re not of faces any more, put it that way. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “dickhead”.’

      Helen looked, then felt a slow blush move over her face. ‘Is that…easy to do?’

      ‘No. Do you know of any enemies the site might have?’

      Helen thought of Logan and his cut-price empire. The media attention the site had attracted through a series of dubious PR activities. The time he went on This Morning and got into a fist-fight with Phil. ‘Um…any number, to be honest with you.’

      ‘Right. Well, I’ve fixed the bug that’s replacing the photos, so people can show off their ski holidays and trips to Machu Picchu again. But you need to beef up your security.’ He spun her laptop back to her. ‘By the way, you’ve got an email from someone called Marnie. Subject—amazeballs dating plan.’

      ‘Give me that.’ Blushing, Helen pushed the screen down. ‘Thanks for fixing it. But I should get dressed now. I mean, in clothes.’ Oh great, now she sounded like she was flirting. ‘It doesn’t inspire confidence, you know,’ she said, in a burst. ‘Your T-shirt. I mean, that’s your job, isn’t it? Fixing computers?’

      He squinted down. ‘Oh. I didn’t realise that’s what I was wearing.’

      ‘Do you have another one that says “Have you tried turning it off and on again”?’

      ‘How did you know?’

      ‘Never mind.’

      He stood up. ‘You didn’t tell me your name. Normally people tell me their names and offer me cups of tea and stuff.’

      ‘Sorry. You just took me by surprise.’

      ‘It’s OK. I don’t understand why people set so much store by drinking hot liquids. Anyway, I’m going to tell you my name, in case you get hacked again.’

      ‘Is that likely?’

      ‘Yep. I’ve fixed it now but whoever did it was good. The bug also found every instance of the word “snowboarding” and replaced it with “looking like a douche”.’ He let out a loud laugh. ‘“I really enjoy jetting off for a spot of looking like a douche.” Sorry, but your hacker is hilarious. I’d like to shake them by the hand.’

      ‘But—you’re sure this was done on purpose? It wasn’t a virus, or a server problem?’

      He gave her a withering look. ‘A server problem wouldn’t replace all the pictures with ones of people’s penises. You were hacked.’

      ‘Oh my God, just like in Jurassic Park. Logan was right.’

      ‘You like Jurassic Park?’

      ‘Duh. I was born in 1982, of course I do.’

      ‘Right. I just thought, you know, the kittens.’ He waved a hand at her cushions, which were upholstered in a distinctly feline theme.

      ‘Kittens and dinosaurs are not mutually exclusive.’

      ‘Actually they are, because mammals weren’t really around until the Pleistocene.’

      ‘Probably one of the many reasons why opening Jurassic Park was such a bad idea.’

      He gave her a long look. Helen held his gaze. He said, ‘You’re right, as it happens. You can’t get Jurassic Park back online without Dennis Nedry. Lucky for you, I am Dennis Nedry.’ He paused for a second. ‘Except, you know, not really gross and into industrial sabotage and stuff.’

      ‘Good to know.’

      He fumbled in one of his many cargo pockets. ‘My card. Not a Blockbuster one this time.’

      Karl Olsen, Computer Wizard. ‘Wizard, huh?’

      ‘Yes, I am the Gandalf of online security. They shall not pass. Well, there’s no need for you to tell me your name, but contact me if your hacker starts again.’ He chuckled. ‘“Looking like a douche”. That’s a funny guy.’

      ‘You assume it’s a guy.’

      ‘Yes, yes, hashtag–not all hackers, I know. But statistically it most likely is. Bye.’

      Abruptly, Karl the computer wizard shouldered his rucksack and headed for the door.

      ‘Wait,’ she said suddenly. ‘Helen.’

      ‘Helen?’

      ‘Er… That’s my name. And I—Look, when I started this job, it was a normal dating site. It just didn’t take off, so he changed it without telling me. Always bank on the lowest end of the market, that’s Logan’s philosophy. I’ve looked for a new job, but there’s not much around.’ And she couldn’t bear going back to work in an office (because: yet more reasons), and every time she imagined going to interviews it made her throat constrict in anxiety, so she stayed where she was and tried not to think about the harm she was doing every day.

      He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter what I think, Helen. I’m just some random computer genius and, as you pointed out, I’m participating in the evil by fixing the site. So don’t worry so much. OK?’

      ‘OK,’ she muttered, tying her dressing gown tighter.

      ‘Are you all right?’ He looked at her keenly. ‘You seem somewhat suboptimal.’

      ‘Yes, I’m just—I was up late, and this is a bit of a shock.’

      ‘It’s all fine now. Computer wizard. Expelliarmus.’ He made a bizarre air-wand gesture. ‘You’re still upset though?’ She shrugged. Of course she was. ‘Do you mind if I…’ He reached out one large finger and touched her on the forehead, between her eyebrows, pressing hard.

      Helen felt an instant relief of tension. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Pressure points. Helps with the anxiety. Well, bye then. I’d say it was nice to meet you but in all honesty I think it just made you intensely uncomfortable.’

      As he left she realised it was the first time a man had been in her flat in two years. Well, a human man, anyway.

      ‘YRRROOOWWL!’

      Helen felt an affectionate blood-drawing scratch on her bare leg and bent down to pick up Mr Fluffypants, her sociopathic Persian cat. Green eyes, fluffy white fur, weighing the same as a small Rottweiler. She was very well aware that she was a living stereotype, but when everything kicked off two years ago it had seemed inevitable she’d become a tragic spinster, so she gave in and got a damn cat. And some cushions. And learned to crochet. She had her eye on a foot spa next.

      She kissed the cat’s fluffy head. ‘Who’s a good kitty? You’re the only man I need, aren’t you? You’ll never leave me?’

      ‘YROOOOWWWL!’ Mr Fluffypants, spotting a bird in the garden, СКАЧАТЬ