Corporate Espionage at Dinner

The spinach sat limp and overcooked on my plate, much like my career. Across the table, Marcus gestured with his wine glass, recounting his latest baseball betting pool victory. I nodded at appropriate intervals, my mind elsewhere—specifically, on the encrypted USB drive burning a hole in my pocket.

'You're not eating,' he said.

I forced down a forkful. 'Long week.'

The truth was heavier than that. Three weeks ago, I'd discovered someone was accessing my work files after hours. At first, I thought it was paranoia—just the cat jumping on my keyboard at home, sending nonsense emails to my colleagues. But then I noticed the patterns. Someone was monitoring my projects, preempting my ideas in meetings.

A corporate spy, hiding in plain sight.

Marcus's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, something flickering behind his eyes—guilt, or maybe calculation. 'Sorry, work thing.'

'Of course.' I watched him tap out a response, the restaurant's neon sign reflecting off his wedding ring. We'd been friends for seven years, since we were junior analysts eating sandwiches in the breakroom. Now he was VP, and I was... well, I was someone who knew too much.

The bear of a truth sat between us: one of us was stealing company secrets, and it wasn't me.

'You know,' I said, setting down my fork, 'I found something interesting in the server logs yesterday.'

Marcus froze. His hand hovered over his wine glass. 'Oh?'

'Someone's been accessing restricted files from a personal device.' I met his eyes. 'Funny thing—they always do it during baseball games. When security is distracted.'

The silence stretched, thin and trembling. Outside, a cat yowled in the alley. Marcus's phone buzzed again.

He didn't pick it up.

'Emma,' he started, his voice cracking. 'I can explain.'

I just watched him, really watched him, for the first time in years. This was the man who'd covered for me when my mother died. Who'd introduced me to my husband. Who I'd trusted with everything.

'You're not the only one,' I said quietly. 'HR's already been notified. I'm not the spy, Marcus—I'm the one who caught you.'

He deflated. The spinach on my plate suddenly seemed fascinating. 'I'm going to lose everything, aren't I?'

I signaled for the check. 'That depends,' I said. 'Did you ever really have it to begin with?'