Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
I get myself connected and log into the encrypted server I use for communications with my regular, vetted clients. I’ve got several new messages, including requests from attorneys who represent victims of sexual abuse. As usual, they’re asking me to hack a target and scour his devices for proof he’s a rapist or pedophile. There’s also a message from a divorce-attorney friend of mine who represents high-net-worth clients. As usual, she wants me to track down the hidden assets of her client’s soon-to-be-ex. There are plenty of private investigators who do this type of work, but nobody does it quite like me. When Bluebird’s on the case, no stone goes unturned, because it’s the douchebag himself who leads me to all relevant stones.
After replying to all various requests, I check on the status of a few irons in the fire. Make some adjustments to code and send a few phishing links. And when that work is done, I give myself permission to finally check my personal computer to see if Hannah and/or Kat has clicked the survey link I sent this morning.
Bingo. Well, that was easy.
I sent the link to Kat, as well as to Hannah, as a back-up measure—just in case my actual target was too savvy to fall for the oldest phishing trick in the book. I love Kat dearly and respect her intellect immensely, but she’s a total shit show when it comes to tech stuff, so I knew she’d click my link without a second thought. Once I had Kat, I figured I could easily get into Hannah’s devices, since both women work for the same PR firm and remotely sign onto the same server. As it’s turned out, though, Kat wasn’t a necessary bridge into Hannah’s devices.
Okay, I’m in Hannah’s phone and ready to poke around. Obviously, I’ll steer clear of her personal and confidential information, stuff like her texts and emails and anything related to her finances and medical care. My overarching goal here isn’t tricking or fooling Hannah into liking me. It’s not presenting myself as someone I’m not—someone Hannah would like better than the actual me. I’m simply gathering intel on Hannah’s niche preferences—stuff that will help me plan a week’s worth of perfect dates that will sweep her off her feet. What sane person—or superhero, in my case—wouldn’t want to do that after meeting the woman of his dreams?
When a normal person has a crush, they head to Google. Or perhaps they scour Instagram for clues and/or ask mutual friends for intel. Well, this is a hacker’s equivalent of doing all that. If Superman wanted to get Lois Lane the perfect gift, he’d use his X-ray vision to peek into Lois’ bedroom closet to check out what brand of dresses or shoes she likes best, and nobody would call him a creep for doing it. They’d call him romantic. Thoughtful. Clearly, it’d be a different story if Superman used his X-ray vision to covertly peep at Lois while she was in the shower. But that’s not at all what I’m doing here, even metaphorically.
Okay, this is something Hannah didn’t tell me last night: she’s a sucker for buying pretty necklaces off social media ads. I could have guessed that, I suppose, since she was wearing a pretty necklace at dinner last night. Note to self: give Hannah a necklace as a gift at some point down the line.
Moving on.
It looks like Hannah’s a bit of a gamer. She loves World of Warcraft, just like me. But she already told me that at dinner. Some other interests, based on what I’m seeing, include reading, movies, documentaries, cooking, baking, and keeping up with trash TV and celebrity gossip. But none of that is new information.
Ah, here’s something that might be mildly helpful to me in terms of planning future dates or gifts. There are several digital punch cards in the wallet on Hannah’s phone. One, from a crepes place near Pike’s Place and another from a bakery by the University of Washington. Definitely something to keep in mind, but certainly not enough to sweep her off her feet.
I click into a florist app and discover Hannah’s an avid purchaser of floral bouquets. Not for herself, however. She frequently sends bouquets to friends and family—for the usual special occasions and also in celebration of personal milestones and small victories. I already knew Hannah was a sweetheart, but this is only further proof of that fact.
I scroll through Hannah’s past flower orders to get a read on her preferred aesthetic. Looks like she prefers colorful, bright bouquets filled with big, bold blooms, as opposed to delicate, elegant ones in whites or pastels. That certainly jibes with Hannah’s personality. She’s a bold, bright person with nothing subtle about her. A woman who wears her heart on her sleeve, the same way I do. I really like that about Hannah, because I’m not always great at reading subtle social cues.