Page 70 of How to Play the Player

Nathan shakes his head. “If Bethany’s monitoring your activity in real time, she’d immediately know something’s wrong. Advanced spyware like this often has alert protocols that notify the administrator when it’s tampered with or disconnected. For now, I can transfer whatever files you absolutely need over to the new computer.”

“So we’re stuck? She just gets to keep watching?” The thought makes my skin crawl.

“Not exactly,” Nathan says, his expression calculating. “We need to be strategic. If we act like nothing’s changed, we can use this to our advantage.”

“How?”

“We go back to your office. I’ll continue setting up the new laptop, make it look like I’m just giving you an upgrade to help with the investigation. Nothing suspicious. Meanwhile, we’ll keep the old one connected but be careful with what we say or do around it.”

I slowly nod in response.

He continues. “For quick communication in the room, we’ll use the Post-its. Simple messages, but keep them away from the laptop’s camera view. But at the same time, we’ll need to show plausible reasons for the occasional private conversation.”

“Coffee runs,” I suggest. “Lunch and dinner.”

He nods. “Nothing too frequent or obvious. We just need to be smart about when and how we discuss anything sensitive.”

“What about when I’m home?”

“Same rules apply. Keep it on and connected, but be mindful it could be recording. Don’t discuss anything sensitive or personal near it, and whenever possible, close it or keep it in another room.”

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling violated all over again. “I’ll be sure not to change in front of it.”

He grits his teeth; his eyes darken with anger. “Once we have enough evidence, we’ll make her pay for this invasion of privacy. But at lunch, we’ll need to come up with ideas on how to catch her without tipping our hand.”

“Okay,” I nod, turning back to the door of my office. “I can do this. Time to put on a show.”

“Ready?” His expression is grim but determined.

After we reenter my office and take our seats, Nathan continues setting up the new laptop, carefully positioning it so the screen isn’t visible from the webcam of my old computer.

Ten minutes later, after listing several files on a Post-it note, Nathan manages to transfer them over to my new laptop.

I can’t believe what has unraveled. For the first time ever, I have a real lead pointing to who might be behind everything. But while Nathan has chosen to help me, a complete contrast from a year ago, is this better behavior of his here to stay? If something came between us again, would he stay by my side? Would he believe and love me unconditionally like he should have in the first place? I push the thought away. That’s a whole other bridge I’ll cross when I get there. And for right now, I don’t need to borrow trouble.

“What now?” I ask quietly, the enormity of the discovery settling between us.

Nathan writes on a yellow Post-it, before sliding it toward me. He’s written:

If we’re going to prove Bethany is the culprit, we need to prove it conclusively.

Grabbing another blank sticky note, he begins to write more. His hand moves swiftly as he writes. After he’s done, he pushes the note in my direction.

Then make her pay for what she’s done. To you. To us. To Jonathan and Kiera.

Theuscatches my attention—an acknowledgment that we were both victims of this deception.

While discussing mundane details about the wedding venue aloud, Nathan and I continue writing notes out of the camera’s view. At some point, he writes:

The evidence we have is good, but circumstantial at best.

I turn my head to face him. “I agree, the security will need to be better than their normal.”

He must understand what I’m trying to say because then he starts writing again as he keeps up the casual conversation. “How many agents do you think we’ll need? It’s not like they’ll need an entire army.”

We need to set a trap.

I read his response as I keep up the ruse. “Maybe not an entire army, but enough to cover the perimeter.” I then write back:

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