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Eliza Lynn Taylor

Eliza Lynn Taylor
Eliza Lynn Taylor Freelance Writer

Sunday, February 1, 2015

His Unfair Advantage

Is it stalking if you gain information on someone in order to gain their favor?



“That conference took forever,” Blaine told Stacy. “I am so glad to be on the way home.”

“You and me both. I hate hotels,” she replied. “But this report for Mr. Dante has to be ready when we get back.” She tapped away on the keys of her laptop on the plane’s tray table. “I’m glad we were able to get seats together so we could work on it.”

“Me too. I see you in the management meetings all the time but you’re always at the other end of the table or off in some other meeting. How come we’ve never had an actual conversation before?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She smiled at him. “But, this report is done.” She hit save and closed the screen. “And, now, if you’ll excuse me,” she added. “I’ve had about three too many cups of coffee.”

Blaine laughed as she started to close the computer. “Hey, I could proof read that while you’re gone.”

“Sure. It’s that icon,” she said, pointing to the document on her screen. She handed it over to him, got up, and staggered her way through the feet sticking out in the aisle making her way to the restroom.

Blaine smiled watching her. “Yes, indeed,” he muttered to himself. “I really wish we had talked before.” He returned his attention to her computer screen as she waited in line and spied a folder labeled ‘PERSONAL’. “Hmmm,” he said, “Let’s see.” He looked to see if she was still in line and then opened it. Diary, Datebook, he read. Reaching into his pocket he fished around until he found a small flash drive and plugged it into the unit and then copied the files onto it and removed it quickly. He returned the drive to his pocket and then closed the folder and opened the document he was supposed to be proofreading.

Stacy returned to her seat and found Blaine deeply engrossed in the report. She glanced over at his tray and saw a few words highlighted in yellow. Darn typos, she thought. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a few minutes. She awoke when he shook her gently. 

“Wiped out?” he asked. 

“Yes, I guess so. How long was I out?” 

“Long enough for me to finish this report. There are only a few typos. It won’t take a couple of minutes.” He slid it back to her as she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. He motioned to the flight attendant for more coffee.

“At least we got to fly first class instead of coach; all the coffee we can handle,” Stacy said.
The next day Stacy found a vase of her favorite flowers on her desk from Blaine. The note read: So glad to get to know you better. I hope you like these. Dinner? 

She buzzed his office at the extension he left on the card. “How could I resist. You sent my favorite flowers. How did you know?”

“Oh, I saw them and just knew you’d love them,” he replied. “Pick you up after work? I know this quaint little place; not too busy, but great food.”

“Sure.” She smiled at the phone as she replaced the receiver. “He really is sweet.”

When they arrived outside The Catacombs Stacy looked at Blaine questioningly. “What? I found this place a few weeks ago. I love it. They have the best French food.”

“I know,” Stacy said. “I’ve eaten here for years. It’s my favorite place.”

“Really? Imagine that.”

As the weeks went on it seemed as though Blaine was reading her mind. He always knew just where to go to dinner or dancing or what movie she had been waiting to see because he had too. She noted it in her diary how well suited they were. Somehow she wasn’t surprised that he asked her to go away for the weekend to a bed and breakfast on the coast she had been dying to go to. She had finally relented and accepted his invitation to go as soon as the next presentation was done.

Stacy worked on her presentation setting up a slideshow. She copied a photograph she downloaded to put into her slideshow and a message popped up the clipboard was full and did she want to empty it. She almost clicked ‘yes’ but then realized she hadn’t copied anything in weeks and had emptied it then. She had the IT department set up her computer so that she could retrieve anything she had on it and manually empty the folder rather than the automatic purge that usually occurred on log off. She opened up the folder and saw that her diary and calendar were on it and the date it was copied. 

“Huh? When was that?” she had to think. She opened up her calendar to refresh her memory. “That’s the weekend I was in Singapore with Blaine at the conference; and that’s the day we came home. Bastard! So that’s how you’ve been reading my mind. You got it off my computer while I was in the restroom.” She shook her head in dismay. 

Blaine awoke to his cell phone ringing. He groggily answered, “Hello.”

“Blaine, I’ve been thinking,” Stacy started before she lost her nerve. “I can’t go away with you for the weekend.”

“What? Stacy? Why not?” He sat bolt upright in the bed.

“I’ll explain tomorrow. I just wanted you to know before you made arrangements,” she went on. “Were you already in bed? Sorry to have awakened you.” She snapped her phone shut and snickered. It was barely eight o’clock. “Being a sneaky rat must really take it out of you.”

“Blaine!” his boss called across the office when he came in the next morning. “In my office.”

Blaine nodded that he understood and dropped his briefcase and jacket off at his desk. He eyeballed his desk suspiciously. His chair was pulled out and he knew he had pushed it in the night before. His laptop was open and the screen was open rather than in suspension mode. Someone had been on his computer.

He shook his head. Perhaps IT was updating software or something, he thought. 

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” he asked. He stopped short when he saw Stacy sitting in one of the chairs opposite the boss, Mr. Teague. He nodded to her.

Mr. Teague nodded for him to take the other chair. “Blaine, Stacy tells me that while you were on the trip back from Singapore you took personal files off of her computer. What do you have to say about that?”

“I think she has an active imagination, sir.” He glared at Stacy. “Besides, aren’t all files subject to fellow employees on company laptops? And why would she have personal files on it anyway?”

“Access is only to certain files. Everyone has their own drive for their own files. It keeps others from accidentally messing up someone’s work. But that is beside the point. That wasn’t a company computer; it was her personal computer. She’s allowed to work on her own equipment when away from the office. Why? Do you take yours home?” Mr. Teague asked.

“Not often. IT likes to monkey around with them too often updating stuff to take it home,” Blaine replied. “Why would I take files from her computer; much less personal ones?”

“I don’t know; why don’t you tell me? IT does like to ‘monkey around’, as you put it, with the computers. It’s their job. Imagine my disappointment when they found her files on your computer. They forwarded me a screen shot of the file folders and then deleted them permanently. You need to clear out your desk.”

Blaine looked at Stacy. “I just wanted an advantage. I’ve been trying to get your attention for months.”

“Try saying ‘hello’. It works better than breaking into their personal lives,” she told him. She stood and walked out of the room without a backwards glance.

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