“Prrrrrrow?”My annoyed cat leapt onto the desk, her fishy breath in my face. I shoved the keyboard aside before she could plonk out a line of kitty code and destroy my research.
“Yes, Trink, I’m sorry. I know it’s breakfast time, but I just need to finish this job.” I scratched the demanding feline behind the ears. She purred, rubbing against my hand, presenting her rump to me for a massage. I distractedly obliged, my attention back on the list of fifty Tickle accounts that Atlas had ‘accidentally’ sent invites to before I had a chance to vet them.
I was almost done. At least three of them, so far, I’d prefer stayed at least ten kilometres away from theGirl on Fire. Not because of their content, but because I was cross-referencing their data against a number of other online databases. It was easy to get access to all sorts of official records… if you knew how to work your way around their security.
If the party was anywhere else but my private residence—the first home that was all mine—I wouldn’t have been quite as horrified at the thought of inviting people with past armed robbery convictions and ‘dropped’ sexual assault charges (which almost always meant the victim was too afraid to push for a trial). The venue was my home. I couldn’tuninvite them without risking damage to the Tickle brand—and Atlas would’ve known that when he told Beau to send the invites.
But there was no point in dwelling or apportioning blame. I just needed to fix it. Lucian would be getting a list of attendees that he and his newly expanded security team was to stick to like superglue the whole night.
I clicked through to account number forty-eight. Ru_Snack_XXXplores. I went into the back end of the account, quickly pulling the personal information attached to it and running it through the databases. While I waited for those results to populate, I took a quick look at her profile.
At hervery popularprofile.
When I clocked the seventy thousand followers, I double checked her account start date, sure that the spreadsheet couldn’t have it right. She’d been a creator account for less than a month.
But itwasright. And she had multiple viral posts, including her first post, which had gone viral in less than twenty-four hours.
Perhaps the algorithm was glitching? It was mostly unheard of for a first post by someone completely unknown to go so viral so fast.
Out of sheer curiosity, I clicked on that first post.
She was objectively, and naturally, beautiful, with bright blue eyes framed by thick lashes, and a long, glossy mane of dark blonde hair. Her skin was smooth, with a smattering of pale freckles across her nose, and a pink, pouty mouth.
And when she panned the camera lower … I knew why she’d gone viral.
Her breasts would rival any Victoria’s Secret model, even clad in a semi-transparent tank top, pert nipples standing firm against the fabric. Then there was the eyebrow-raisingly large toy she touched them with—and the expression on her face as she moved it lower, off-camera. She caressed her breasts while she—at least as far as the viewer could tell—used the toy to bring herself to climax. That’s what cemented her organic virality for me.
She put on a show without giving everything. She left a perfect amount to the imagination. She titillated.
She gave just enough to make people desperate to follow along, hoping she would give them more with the next post … or the next. And one look in the comments showed me she’d been very successful at teasing just enough to have subscribers panting for more.
It was an impressive strategy.
I clicked through another few posts, pausing when I came across one where she was painting her toenails, chatting away in a melodic Eastern European accent, which somehow suited her perfectly. Was it feigned? A lot of creators faked accents to seem more exotic.
The rhythm of her voice was soothing, and the way she smiled up at the camera as she finished each nail before moving on to the next one, had my own mouth twitching in a mirror image, as if she were sitting opposite me, a couple having an intimate conversation.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Tearing my gaze from her eyes—her mouth, moving with that addictive accent—I clicked out of Tickle and went back to my background-check screen. The first hit was a database entry for an Irina Rusnac, a Romanian international student enrolment at Sydney University.
Something stopped me digging further though. It almost felt wrong to dive into her personal information without her permission. I wasn’t breaking any laws—it was all public. But with her, it felt personal, in a way it hadn’t with the forty-seven creators I’d screened before her. Besides, from what I’d seen, I had no issue with her inclusion on the guest list.
I forced myself to do a brief check on the final two creators, finding nothing concerning in their backgrounds. Then I stood, stretched and rubbed my eyes beneath my glasses.
“Mwroooooouauaar!”
I glanced down to find both Trinket and Abernathy glaring murderously up at me. Trink’s ears twitched in displeasure, while Abs’ tail slashed from side to side in agitation.
I scooped up Trink, too wary of Abs and his violent streak when he got hangry. Trusting that he’d follow along, I crooned, “Alright you two! Let’s go get your bikkies.”
Once they were safely ensconced with their respective bowls of kibble, I quickly changed into my swim trunks and headed up to the swim spa on the main deck. My body felt tight and tense. I’d been desk-bound for too long over the last few weeks. All in the name of hittingthat three-hundred-million-subscriber goal Atlas had casually dropped on me before leaving for America.
While I knew his skillset wasn’t in the back end of the program, it sometimes felt like he was determined to stay oblivious. He had no idea how much went on behind-the-scenes to make his little pipe dreams come true.
But I could fix it. So when he presented me with a problem, my mind immediately focused on the potential solutions and how to make them happen.
We’d hit three hundred late last night. And I wondered how much of Ru Snack’s organic growth had contributed to that. Users couldn’t follow without subscribing, and her follower count was phenomenal.
