“Okay, Mr.Turnbull, how far are you willing to go to rid yourself of this problem?”Tiffany asked, her eyes twinkling.
“At this point, I just need help, and I will do anything,” he said.
Helen was shaking her head no.She was reading Tiffany's eyes, and this poor man may have been taking himself out of the frying pan to be cooked alive by a very horny woman who was also very lonely.
Tiffany said, “Woman are often told the best way to get over a man is to get under a new one.In this case, that woman and her followers need to see that you have moved on, and she is basically suffering from Sour Grapes.”
When she said the Sour Grapes portion, Tiffany actually winked at Helen.Again, Helen shook her head no.Tiffany nodded her head yes.
“Huh?”Donovan asked.
“Mr.Turnbull, it's simple,” Tiffany explained.“We reactivate your social media accounts and put on the show just like she does.You've moved from Amarillo, got you a new woman.We head to Pueblo, get a few photos of us with the parents and the cousins having fun, showcasing this new life you have without her.”
Donovan asked, “What's to stop them from coming at you?”
“The last thing any of those people want is to come for me,” Tiffany said.
It was at that moment that Helen spotted the anger Tiffany concealed behind the upper middle-class breeding and high society fundraisers.Tiffany looked at Donovan as woman looked at man who needed to start a weekend rebuild project in the back yard.It took him less than thirty seconds to pick up on her vibe and then he smiled.
“This is fucking scary,” Helen said, watching the birth of two super villains.
“I no longer have a cell phone,” Donovan said.
Tiffany rose and went to a drawer.She pulled out three different types of pay as you go devices.“Choose your poison.”
He spoke softly, “So you and I are going to pretend to be in love to throw her off, and I can get my life back?”
“Sir, in all honesty, I haven’t had a lot of male interaction in a long time, I mean to be fair.When I'm done with you, this may well be the life you want,” she said, rising.“Get some rest, both of you.We make a plan tomorrow and set to work.Cranberry, your training begins at 11 a.m.”
Helen looked at Donovan Turnbull, uncertain what he had signed up for or walked into.She was no more comfortable with pretending to love on a man than she was for this man to pretend to love on a woman he didn't know for protection and safety.However, Passion Fruit was right.Men needed protecting too.
“Mr.Turnbull,” Helen said, “if at any time, you're uncomfortable with the direction this is heading, please speak up.There may be other options.”
“I'm drowning, and it's a life vest, which feels warm,” he said.“I have been lonely for so long that maybe, I dunno.Do you ever get tired of trying?”
“I've been there,” Helen said, “but tired is no excuse for apathy.”
“Not apathetic, but tired of fighting alone.I have a partner in the fight, and I want to win this one for the little guy,” he said.“I need to show how invasive social media is, how untruthful it can be, and the harm it does to people.More than anything, I need to show that woman she has no power over my life, and if that means that I have to love all over that woman and buy her an engagement ring, I will.”
“That is a bold statement,” Helen said.“Tread carefully.You don't know what you've walked into.”
“And you don't know what I walked out of.I'm taking back my power, my manhood, my life, in whatever form I can get it,” he said.
“Noted, get some rest,” Helen said, heading for the stairs.She didn't like this at all.However, she was here to learn from the master.Tomorrow her training in cyber began.“I'm not ready for any of this shit.”
Donovan Liam Turnbull was, in fact, a branch manager at a regional bank which fed into a larger banking system.Based on the information received from a top line scan from Mustang, the man lived and worked in Amarillo.His parents, who were still married, lived in Pueblo, Colorado where he grew up.There were no red flags on his life outside of the last six months when he’d removed all of his social media accounts.
"She's taken my life.I need help," Helen repeated to herself as she took the first watch over Mr.Turnbull.
He had frostbite on the toes of both feet.His nose had frost nip, and a couple of the fingers appeared to just have missed danger.In the morning, she would ask about surveillance cameras, but evidently, Sour Grapes had none since there was no little red light flashing to indicate Mr.Turnbull’s arrival.A chill ran up Helen’s spine at the thought of a civilian being able to track a Technician and show up at their home.The bigger question of why was replaced with how.Then, the man moved.
"Bathroom," he said.
"This way," Helen said, rising, to show him to the water closet.
She had taken the watch because, in her estimation, Sour Grapes had enough on her hands with Bella.The last thing she needed was to oversee the stranger’s care.Even if he’d come looking for the cyber queen, it didn't sit right with Helen.Sour Grapes didn't sit right with Helen.She was off kilter and a bit off beat in a distant sort of way.If there was anger in her, as evident in Passion Fruit and Lemon, it wasn't on the surface with this woman.Even the anger which simmered under the surface with Bad Apple was palpable.
Knives in one pocket, a nine in the other, she waited in the chair for the man to return.The toilet flushed, water ran, and the door opened.He stepped out, swaddled in the blankets.
