‘Let me see.’

I sat at my desk and skimmed through the last one.

In the morning I told him – I have to go to work, so let yourself out. And he did. And when I got back he had gone. And so had my iPad, some cash I had in the bedroom drawer and a Tiffany frame with a photograph of my cat.

‘I’m afraid it comes with the territory,’ I said, leaning back in my chair, my eyes drifting back to James Caine waiting in reception. He smiled at me and I looked away. ‘Tinder alone has got nearly sixty million users in 190 countries. Online dating is full of these creeps. The guy who is already in one or ten relationships. The guy who looks like Brad Pitt in his profile picture and the Elephant Man in the flesh. And the one who is a married man, the one who is always looking over your shoulder for something better to turn up and the one who steals a silver-framed photograph of your cat.’

‘You’re not looking, Tara,’ Mary said, her voice bristling with irritation.

‘It’s all about us,’ Skyla said.

‘Look closer,’ Mary said. ‘Really look this time, will you, Tara?’

And so I did.

Mr Married Man – met through: Angel Eyes, I read. Mr Roving Eye – met through: Angel Eyes. Mr Thief – met through: Angel Eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Skyla said, her huge manga-sized eyes clouded with concern.

And I knew that this could be the end of everything we had worked to build, this could be the start of a contagion that would ruin us all. And if my business fell apart, how would my family survive?

But I did not have the space in my head to think about financial ruin. Not now. Not with James Caine sitting on the other side of the glass, grinning at me as if he knew things about me that the rest of the world would never know, not even my husband.

‘No, it’s OK, Skyla, you did good,’ I said.

I looked at Mary for her damage assessment.

‘Clearly the optics stink,’ she said. ‘This blog makes Angel Eyes look like a safe space for predators, and it makes us look as though our clients – or rather a lot of the men – are creeps.’

‘Why us?’ I said. ‘Why not Tinder or Bumble? Or OkCupid or CoffeeMeetsBagel?’

Mary shrugged.

‘Who would do such a thing?’ Skyla said.

‘Someone who wants to hurt us,’ I said. ‘A business rival. The big boys wouldn’t bother, but it could be a rival start-up.’

‘Why don’t you think they’re genuine?’ Mary said, surprised.

I scrolled through the blog, more carefully this time.

A sixty-second trawl through his social media crowing reveals that Mr Married Man has a lovely wife and three adorable children. And I am still on the bus to the restaurant.

‘They could well be genuine,’ I said. ‘But singling us out looks like an act of spite against this company.’