“Cranberry, are you tracking?”Sour Grapes asked.
“On it,” Helen replied, watching the woman shift her focus to the man named Donovan.“Mr.Turnbull, please use the phones I gave you and reactivate your social media accounts.”
“Uhm, okay,” he said, doing as instructed.
Helen worked quickly, creating two new email accounts, then opening a Tweeter, a Heater, and a new IG page under Lacey Nelson and Rasheda Nim.She used purchased images from a stock photo site like Sour Grapes instructed as her profile images and completed the confirmations, accepting the accounts via the new email.Sour Grapes gave her a new phone to activate as well and used the numbers for both accounts.
In the living room, the oversized chair was moved closer to the fireplace, and Sour Grapes brought in light rings and sound equipment.Donovan walked over, uncertain of what was happening.He showed her the phones where he’d activated the social media pages, and she told him to take a seat in the chair.
Tiffany asked him, “What does your mother call you?”
“I'm sorry but why is that important?”he said blushing at such a private question.
“Your mother doesn't call you Donovan, so what does she call you?”
“Donny,” he said, blushing again.
“Good enough; please unbutton at least three top buttons, muss your hair, and look at the light ring,” she said, taking his phone.“Take off the glasses too, please.”
Donovan did as he was told, unsure what was happening as she slid her finger across the phone, opening his social media app.She attached the phone to the light ring and had the phone go live broadcasting the current moment.Donovan, still confused, looked at the light ring as he'd been told, when suddenly, Tiffany, standing behind the light right, raised her blouse and flashed the man.
His eyes grew wide and his cheeks reddened, and then she called his name, “Donny, what are you doing?”
She asked the question as she stepped into the frame of the recording, landing on his lap.The nice, neat, and tidy chignon she wore at the base of her neck was no more and her blond hair hung to her shoulders.A silk blouse, so fine and delicate, covered the main parts of her upper torso as she ran her finger down his cheek.Tiffany looked at the phone, “Donny, are you recording?”
“I was about to...well, now my focus has changed,” he said, smiling at her.
“It sure has,” she said, leaning forward and turning off the recording.
She stood up as if nothing happened, leaving both Donovan and Helen confused.Tiffany played with the phone for a second, typed a few phrases, and hit post.
“Cranberry, find Donovan on social, like this post, and say something cheeky, like great couple,” Tiffany said.“Next, we are going to create a few bots, tag the post, and make this spike.Her users will see it and begin to comment.”
Donovan scratched at his neck and asked, “Is that what we want?”
“Yes.Once she responds.I will be able to track her followers, see how many are legit, purchased, or actual bots,” Tiffany said.“Once we find her bots, we can back hack her devices, reverse the recording, and tap her phones.Anything she is doing which doesn't coincide with her branding an image, we can expose.However, I need to show you and Cranberry how to do these actions.I won't be a part of it.”
Helen raised her hand.“I only understood tap her phones.The rest of that was like hearing an Asian man speak German.I saw that once in Dusseldorf.I was not okay for a day or two.”
“This is what you're here to learn, Cranberry.Donovan has provided us with the perfect teaching tool,” she said.“Next, we need footage of us frolicking.”
“Frolicking?”he and Helen said at the same time.
“It's Winter in Minnesota,” she said.“I have snowmobiles, motorized snow sleds, and more, but today, we are going to head out to make snow angels.Helen, I will need you to record it on his phone so it can be posted.We will make a reel and add some sappy romantic song behind it and show Donny over here being happy.”
“Snow Angels?I only have these clothes,” Donovan said.“My suitcase is in the truck in Minneapolis.Is there any way we can get my truck?”
“There is,” she said, picking up her personal phone.Tiffany dialed a number, provided a pick-up time, then looked at her watch.“Bundle up, kids, we need to make this video really quick, and your ride will be here in 45 minutes to take you to get your truck.There is a garage on the side of the house where you can park it when you return.It is winter in Minnesota, so you will need to plug in the battery to keep it from freezing.Cranberry, you can show him how if he doesn't know, like I showed you.”
“Sorry, I'm still stuck on the part where we're going outside in below freezing temperatures to make snow angels while I have frostbite on my feet,” Donovan repeated, unsure to what it was supposed to accomplish.
Tiffany told him, “The doctor will be by later today to check your feet.”
“Yes, with the help of Cranberry's bots, we'll tag it with an equally sappy tagline about remembering what it is like to fall in love.The bots will make it go viral, and your cyber stalker will have to engage because she no longer has control over you,” Tiffany said.“She makes her move, we have her, and we will begin to dismantle her network.”
Bella materialized with an outer coat for Tiffany as well as one for Donovan.Helen bundled up as well and brought out her phone and the one used by Donovan.Down the stairs they went, with Tiffany making a snowball and tossing it to the back of the man's head.
Helen, spotting the action, began to record.He, surprised by the playful encounter, made a smaller snowball, tossing at the center of Tiffany's chest, making her chase him.She ran to him, nearly tackling the man as they collapsed in the snow in a tangle of arms and legs.Giggling, she rolled off him to her back in the pile of fresh white powder.Her arms and legs moved, initiating the same action from Donovan who made his angel in the white fluff as well.Satisfied, he popped to his feet, reaching for her hand.Slowly, he pulled Tiffany to her feet, and they looked at the angels in the snow.His arm draped over her shoulder and without prompting, he leaned down, kissing the top of her covered head.Helen stopped recording.
