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You could hear a pin drop.
“A woman?” asked Gabe. “And a special one, I take it?”
My head shook again. “More than that. I think I’m in love.”
At least my friend had the courtesy not to burst into wild laughter. Instead, he whistled, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“Love? You, Theo Wainwright? Mr. CEO? What happened to never let your walls down, take no prisoners, the stud of Silicon Valley?”
I snorted. “Listen, no one wants to be a sex god forever. That shit gets old.”
But Gabe isn’t my oldest friend for nothing, and he called me out.
“You’re forty-five dude, living a crazy life for twenty years. It’s only getting old now?”
“Shut up,” I snapped, really getting annoyed now. “Seriously, motherfucker. The quips are getting old.”
“Okay, okay,” Gabe backed off. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath.
“Well, I’m in over my head,” I said. “Freaky obsessed. I can’t stop thinking about her, and when I’m not with her, I want to call her.” I shook my head in disbelief about what I was saying. “Can you believe it? Like some seventh grade puppy dog crush. It’s unbelievable.”
Gabe laughed. “What? You’ve never had a conversation with a woman on the phone?” he asked.
“God no!” I said. “That’s what texting is for. You don’t w
ant to get caught in some twenty-minute conversation with no out, it’s fucking painful. Besides, before now, no one I dated had anything particular interesting to say.”
“That’s true,” Gabe said slowly. “Your past girlfriends were, ah, a little on the ditzy side.”
“A little?” I grunted. “More like they had bags of rocks as brains.”
“True, true,” said Gabe reflectively. “But still, why are you calling? It’s natural to fall in love.”
A snort escaped me once more. “Love? Who said anything about love?”
There was silence for a moment before my friend spoke truth to power. “You, my man. That’s all I’ve heard on this phone call. You’re in love,” he said simply.
Oh shit. Gabe was right. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, least of all to myself, but he’d seen straight through to the heart of the matter. I was in love with Mia Smith, head over heels, off the reservation, and I had no idea what to do about it.
“So?” I asked, voice rising with urgency. “What next?”
“What do you mean, what next?” said Gabe patiently. “All the regular things, what else? Dates, taking her on vacations, helping her with whatever she needs. Who’s the lucky girl by the way?”
“Her name is Mia,” I said. And as the name left my lips, I knew everything Gabe had said was true. I was in love, and my girl’s name on my lips was like a prayer to the gods.
Oh shit, oh shit, how had this happened? I was a powerful titan without a care in the world. And yet somehow, this sweet brunette had turned my world upside down both personally and professionally. I wanted to make Mia’s life sweet, to give her everything she wanted. I wanted to spend the rest of my days making her cry out with ecstasy.
This forever stuff was real.
Holy shit.
And after hanging up with Gabe, my head spun. How to show Mia how much I cared? There had to be a way. With endless resources, anything was possible.
Suddenly, my mind spun naturally to jewelry. Wasn’t that what every female wanted? Like a crazed man, my fingers tapped on the keyboard, rushing to the websites of Tiffany, Cartier, and Van Cleef and Arpels. There had to be something suitable for my stunning brunette.
But amazingly, those stores were pretty boring with variations of the same stuff. So I went bold and started looking up estate auctions. Holy shit. There was one going on tomorrow with dozens of fancy pieces, but one item in particular caught my eye. It was a marvelous emerald and diamond necklace made by Harry Winston, designed for a princess a century ago. Imagining Mia draped in jewels, the robin’s egg emerald pendant nestled between those full breasts was just right.
