How I Met Paula Billings

I did not connect the two events. They were about six weeks apart and I did not associate them.

Event number two, I met Paula Billings in the JAVA JOINT coffee line. After we picked up our morning caffeine, she spilled her Mocha on my pants.

Looking back I didn't see where I missed any clues. She was that good. Or maybe I couldn't see the forest for those big brown eyes, sweet smile, and quick wit.

We started talking and by the end of our coffee and bagel, I had her number and her name.

We dated for about three months. When her apartment lease came up for renewal, I asked her to move into my house with me.

She was a runner. Her muscular legs only showed when she had her running tights stretched across those fantastic ass cheeks. Her arm muscles made her a tough gal to tickle and win. Her scrambled egg size titties did have sensitive nipples. I could get her half way to orgasm just with my tongue on her breasts.

Things went well until that fateful Sunday afternoon That I detected that someone had accessed my laptop.

That was the first time that I had ever left my lap top on my desk. I would usually lock the ole Hp in my secret safe.

I had gotten comfortable with Paula being around and frankly I'd begun to trust her. I wanted to trust her.

That brings up event number one. My presentation that was on the afore mentioned laptop.

It went something like this:

"Good evening Sharks, My name is Jack and I'm from Seattle. I want to sell you my laptop for two million dollars. It contains all of the notes and procedures for my electrical breakthrough.

That breakthrough is the ability to harvest lightening.

Lightening is one of the primal features of our earth that has awed millions since the beginning of time. Even Shakespeare alluded to its presence.

A lot of our modern electrical devices operate on Alternating Current. AC runs most of our house hold and industrial applications. It is man made from a rotating field passing a coiled stator. Generating AC consumes lots of power from nuclear, fossil fuel or a hydro source.

Alternating Current has the ability to be transformed (stepped up) to a high voltage so it will not diminish in the long distance transmission lines.

AC however is difficult to store, so it is usually generated and used on demand.

Additionally, a lot of our electrical apparatuses operate on Direct Current. DC runs our computers (TTL) and almost everything that is mobile.

DC is usually stored chemically in a battery. Even if we plug a device into the AC wall outlet, the AC is often changed to DC inside of the contrivance.

Lightening is Direct Current. By the jigawatts of power. Just like in Back to the Future.

There is however one storage device that actually stores DC on the surface of the plates.

That device is a CAPACITOR. That is, it has a certain capacity to store electrons.

So Sharks, if you want your two experts to review my laptop it will require confidentiality agreements and one thousand dollars for one eight hour day.

If your experts recommend that you buy the laptop, the price is two million dollars. Any questions?"

The producers did not want to submit my presentation, so I never got the chance to confront the sharks.

Rejection letters suck.

Back to the part of my story where I found my lap top had been opened.

My lap top had not only had the lid opened, but someone had run a password cracking Compact Disc as a frontal assault on my firewall.

They did not succeed in bypassing my first password, but they had given it one hell of a try. DAMN!

My lap top is not connected to the internet nor does it have a WiFi capability. Someone had to sit in my house and try to hack into and steal my life.

Damn, I had already logged in before I found the intrusion. I assumed that she had put a key stroke logger on my machine so she could come back and make another attempt to get into my files.

My laptop turns on the internal camera every time the lid is opened. I went to that video file with reluctance.

Damn! It was Paula. Damn her!

Yeah, she has her own laptop. There is no reason she should be any where near my machine let alone running a high powered password cracker CD.

Damn! I backed out and left no evidence that I had discovered the attack.

My computer has the hard drive partitioned off so that each file has its own password. The attack could ultimately be successful, but it would take her a lot of time.

I guessed that her plan was to just sneak into my files and make a copy. That way I would never know who or when the theft occurred.

My technology would just show up on the market some day. Probably from some techno super power.

But I had time. It would be a week before I left my laptop on the desk where Paula would be alone with my valuable unrevealed breakthrough.

The next week was busy. I moved all of my tech files onto another computer. In the house I hid mini cameras that were motion activated and recorded sound too.

I wanted to see the whole picture.

During that week I also had Garren add two separate levels of encryption around the empty files in the old Hp.

I needed time to spring a trap.

The next Sunday I left my old laptop on the desk just as I had the week before. I kissed Paula good bye as usual and headed for my bicycle ride with Tim and Kimberly.

Paula said, "I'm going for a short run."

It was agony waiting until I could get home and confirm who had just become my new arch enemy.

The recording confirmed my suspicion. It was Paula and some pencil neck geek. I hadn't counted on her having an accomplice. He just walked in the front door. He didn't even have to ring the bell.

They acted like business associates, not friends or lovers. She was working for someone with a lot of money. She was not a computer hacker. The PNG was the hacker. Paula was just the wedge to get the door open and gain access to my computer.

I was just a pawn in her game of chess. Damn her! That really hurt!

My heart broke and tears were in my eyes. I felt, in a single word, bad.

My stomach had a knot inside until early in the morning. In the dark of the night anger set in. Boy did it ever come hard.

Anger and then a thirst for revenge.

Steal from me and I'll hurt you. Break my heart with lies and then steal from me, I'll hurt you really bad.

They say that when you start out on revenge, first dig two graves. This time it would be three. One grave for the pencil neck geek, one for Paula and a grave for my heart.

Revenge was going to be mine. I would do the same as they were going to do to me. I would get them and they would never know it was me.

I wanted to find out who the pencil neck geek was so he could get his share of payback pain.

I needed more hidden mini cams. This time I put the cameras on the street, the back yard, everywhere. I had to find out how he got to my house so I could track him down and hurt him.

I also needed to find out more about the person that I had invited into my home, my life and my bed.

I needed to search her purse, phone and car.

For claiming to be a first grade teacher, her purse was WAY too small. My sister is a second grade teacher and her purse is big. I think she has a weeks worth of lesson plans inside all the time.

Paula always seemed to be a very light sleeper. I got some OTC (non prescription) sleeping pills and laced her evening meal's drink.

I set my phone alarm for 9:33 and retired just after Paula went to bed yawning at 8:17.

When my alarm went quietly off, I slipped out of bed like a shadow. Paula did not move. Her purse and phone were always just within reach on her night stand.

As anal retentive as I've seen her, I knew that her purse was highly organized. I needed to take care and put everything back in the exact place after I'd done my sleuthing.

I put on vinyl work gloves just in case. Her phone was password protected. I had seen her enter her security code many times but was never interested in knowing the numbers. I just wanted to make sure it did not 'ring' and wake her while I had her purse.

Her wallet was next. The Visa card had her name, Paula Billings, embossed on the front. Thirty seven dollars in cash and several discount cards for local stores.

Nothing else that I considered normal was in her wallet. It seemed some things were missing. There was no driver's license or auto insurance card. There was no health card or emergency contact information. Except for her driver's license all of that shit must be on her cell phone.

But why would you have emergency contact information on a password protected electronic device?

I made sure the bedroom door was closed and photographed both front and back of both cards.

I amused myself with thoughts of a GIANT order from Cabela's on her credit card. But the credit card company would probably call her and ask her to confirm the order.

She would decline the purchase but then she would know that I had been in her purse. Damn!

In one of the back compartments of her wallet, that I almost overlooked, was the tell. There was an Illinois driver's license with a Chicago address and I assume, her real name, Paula Bacladeau.

I took a picture of the license before I returned it into the hidden cranny.

SHIT! So that was the game. I was just a mark! She only wanted the information on my lap top. She was willing to fuck me to get it. Paula was just a professional corporate prostitute. Or maybe just a freelance fuck.

Whatever she was, she was never my girlfriend. The coffee shop had been a setup! FUCK ME!

I guessed she was so confident that she would not need any kind of emergency information before she blew back to the Land of Lincoln.

Her car sat in the garage closest to the house door. I had given her my coveted spot to help her feel welcome and special.

My 1966 Mustang sat in the other inside parking place just waiting for a sunny day. My daily driven F-150 sat on the ramp behind the Mustang.

She even locked her car in the garage.

"Why would her car be locked while it was inside the garage?" I bemused silently.

My realization was that she was wary of me! She did not want me to find what ever was inside of her car.

I was in fact the only person that stood in her way of getting the files inside of my computer.

When I approached her car with her keys, the doors automatically unlocked. Isn't technology grand? Ok, auto lock, maybe she wasn't as fearful of me as I first thought.

The papers in the glove box helped too. It was a leased car to a DynoTech corperation of Dallas. Insurance papers listed any corporate executive as covered while driving. Robert Evens Jr. signed the papers for DynoTech.

I used my Apple camera on those documents also.

So now I knew where the money was coming from.

Her name appeared nowhere on the papers

There was nothing in the trunk except a small overnight bag with complete change of clothes, a blonde wig and a bunch of cash. I found the cash inside the lining on the bottom of the bag.

She had an escape go bag in the trunk.

She was an aberration that could disappear at a moments notice. She could walk away from everything at my house except my lap top.

She could also grab my computer, get into her car and disappear without a trace. I would never find her or my laptop.

Paula was a professional corporate espionage agent. Damn her deceitful ass!

Up to this point she had not committed any crime. Lying to me is not a crime. Trying to gain access to millions of dollars worth of technical data is not a crime until AFTER you are successful.

All of a sudden the hair stood up on the back of my neck! I felt, in a single word, fear! Damn the big money boys want what I've got and they were willing to steal it from me.

You sons-of-bitches.

They sent Paula Bacladeau of Chicago to steal my lightening harvesting technology. They also paid off someone in the Sharks program to alert them to who I was and what I had.

You sons-of-bitches.

The game changed in an instant. I had to genuinely secure my technology (lap top), get rid of Paula Backlafuckingdoodoobitch and make myself a non-target for the future.

Revenge was out of the question! Shit! I needed to survive!

I could be just one corporate decision away from a gang of thugs kidnapping me and removing body parts until I gave them my passwords. Fuck!

You sons-of-bitches.

Sometimes my imagination scares even me!

I needed a strategic withdrawal plan. In other words, "Get Me the Fuck Out of Here!"

I put every thing back into her purse like I found it.

Crawling in bed next to Paula was almost uncomfortable but I made sure that I did not touch her. Sleep did not come quickly but in lots of tosses and turns.

By alarm time I had:

A PLAN

I left before Paula was out of the shower but I put a voice mail on her cell phone that said, "Paula, I have a project that I'm working on and will be out of town for a couple of days. The project is in central Nevada where there is no cell service. Think Area 51."

I didn't even say 'good bye'. Fuck her!

When I got to work I borrowed my buddy Arvin's truck. I left my cell phone on my desk and drove to Chuck's place of business. We locked the ole Hp into his private property gun safe.

Shit I figured that if they spent all that money on Paula, putting trackers on my truck and phone would be just a cheap part of the surveillance package.

I also started to carry my three eighty.

It was Thursday after work when I came in all excited and swung Paula around and told her to get packed. "We were headed for Cabo" (Cabo San Lucas, Mexico)!

"I sold my lighting harvesting technology to a South Korean outfit. We are rich!" I yelled, "I ended the negotiations yesterday late. The check was available this morning so we are on our way! I was actually downtown in the Radisson with my lawyer and their team of cutthroats. "

I was pulling my suitcase out of the closet and starting to carefully put some socks and underwear into the side compartments.

"Call in sick, pack and get ready for a sunny Mexican vacation!" I exclaimed. "I'll call (call, a euphuism for get on the internet) Alaska (airlines) and order tickets after dinner."

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that Paula did not share my enthusiasm. Why would she. She had just lost out on her big fat, fabulous, fucking finder's fee. Fuck her!

Or maybe she did not have a passport to match her Billings persona. What name would she tell me to put on the ticket?

I knew she couldn't go to Mexico. The lap top was gone. Her cover as Paula Billings was in a bind and I hoped she would end the charade.

No going back to her bosses and being the go to gal for difficult projects.

Nope, no glory for her. No glory, just a quiet jet ride back to Chicago to wait for her next assignment where she would go and FUCK the next guy for his secrets.

She finally said, "Jack, I cannot go to Mexico with you. You're a nice guy but we just aren't a good enough match. I was just working up the nerve to tell you next week."

Wow, she was quick on her feet.

I waited with my prepared reply. Finally I said, "Paula thanks for being honest with me. (I damn near choked on that line even though I'd rehearsed it many times) What are you going to do?"

I'm sure her reply was prepared too, "I'll just finish out the term at school and than go back to Albuquerque and get my old job back."

"Will you be moved out by the time that I get back from Mexico?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll just move in with a gal pal from school." There was a pause then, "I'm sorry."

She actually sounded sincere. I guessed that was the product of being a good actress. Or maybe she was just sorry that her gig was up. Lying Bitch! Fuck her!

Paula sat in the kitchen while I finished packing. As I walked out the door I said, "I'm sorry too. Is my stuff safe here, with you?"

She looked at me with a shocked expression on her face and replied, "Yes. Your stuff is safe here with me. What kind of a person do you think I am?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean anything by that. I'm just a bit taken back by our sudden breakup. I thought things were going well."

Bit my lip! Damn. I was getting to be as good a liar as she was.

A small note: she did not even ask how much I sold the lap top for.

"I wish you well," I said as I backed my Mustang out of the garage.

I gently eased the old classic Ford down the road in front of the house and didn't look back.

PART TWO

It was almost a year after that fateful week that Paula left. I had no use for female companionship after the snake that was Paula Billings.

My fortunes had changed a bit as I had sold the lightening harvesting technology to a South African group. I only got 1.2 million but I was glad to end that part of my life.

No more looking over my shoulder to see if I was being followed or being super suspicious of every new person that I met.

The South Africans estimated that it would take five years to perfect and market the technology. I was on retainer for the first year as part of the 1.2 mill.

Life went on for me. I moved into a custom built zero carbon foot print home. The four car garage gave me plenty of room to rebuild my classic Mustangs.

What Paula had tried to do to me started to gnaw at my gut. Initially I was relieved to escape with no more pain than a broken heart. As the months wore on I fought the idea of revenge. I didn't think that I was a vengeful person.

I guess that I was wrong.

The early American Indian story of the two wolves that live within me came to mind. I guess that I had fed the vengeful wolf.

I drove to Chicago and paid for gasoline and rooms with a pre-paid Visa. I was trying to be as stealthy as my quarry.

I bought a prepaid cell at Wal-Mart and left my I-phone at home.

I-90 East, here I come.

My GPS took me to the address that was on Paula Bacladeau's Illinois driver's license. The building was a low rise condominium just off of the West Adams. Secure underground parking but no doorman.

Parking for me included a three block walk to the open lobby. The elevators were card key controlled. There were no names on the outside of the mail boxes. The mail man/lady had to open the top part of the box and the names I'm sure were on the inside.

The rich and guilty are never easy to track.

I mounted a wireless motion activated mini camera across the lobby and aimed it at the elevators. Double sided tape worked wonders.

I mounted a second mini cam under the handle on the outside door to cover the lobby's exit doors.

My third camera covered the garage exit.

I would give it a few days and see what I found. I knew that Paula could be gone for weeks or months at a time. At this point I wasn't sure what else to do.

The next morning I removed and down loaded the cameras and what to my wondrous eyes did appear, Paula Bacladeau. The surveillances gods were on my side. She was going out for an early morning run.

The next morning I was across the street in homeless surveillance mode. Homeless people are invisible.

She headed east toward the park at a brisk runner's pace. Fitbit, ear buds and her trusty cell phone in her right hand.

I did not know how long she would be in town or running or anything so I had to act fast. I bought a used bicycle and upgraded my disguise.

I've had plenty of time to think about what I would say to Paula if I ever were to meet her in an anonymous setting. I had that message all typed out on what I considered non-traceable paper with an old borrowed typewriter.

Early the next morning I sat astride my bike and waited for a rendezvous with my past. She was headed my way now.

The street and sidewalks were empty both directions when I began to pedal. My powerful legs brought me up to speed quickly.