17.5. - It's a gadgets world

Customers, cases, nodding, smiling, arguing (straightly, yet politely).

"Yes but the presumption of innocence doesn't really help if you're image is spoiled. Just ask Strauss-Kahn. No, of course you didn't grab anyone's ass, your missing the point."

After the customer left, it was time for a tiny reward. I function in a simple power - trick and treat, delivery and reward. And today it was all about gadgets. Bless me, the new iPad owner. Yes, I'm still not sure how to download files but I can find my way from Financial Times to Bloomberg. God bless internet.

Alex texted. Asked if I could recommend him to the company. The company that I don't know but he thought that my name would to the trick. The company called back and asked if I personally recommend him and if I trust him. "I truly do," I nodded over the phone and no-one saw me blinking.

16.5. Mayday

Despite all of the false assumptions mayday doesn't come from May Day (when supposedly something bad happened), it derives from the French "venez m'aider" or "come help me".

For me it will always be a May day when something bad happened. Well it all started with May evening with marvelous white mushroom salad in the terrace, discussing why it is impossible in some countries to launch a Michelin restaurant - because you simply can't get the indigents in proper condition (can't freeze, happy cows, lucky eggs etc etc). Our mutual friend tried to open one in Kazakhstan and he soon found out that the cows weren't happy enough and the transportation was too challenging etc. Somewhere there, in the middle of the carpaccio it started going oh so wrong. We drove to Alex, we walked by his bodyguard with my always packed suitcase. Can`t leave it there, the shiny luck of being a lover.

Hour later I had an idea. There are THE moments where you should have no ideas whatsoever.

"Let's play a game called honesty,"i suggested forgetting that I was 33 not 18. You can do it only if you are 18, and he is not married and no-one has children and..oh so many more and's.

"Why do you get so upset when I mention on you not having children," he asked in just a second without hesitation. That's where I went ballistic. What should I say? That I've tried but haven't succeeded, that I would love to have them with him even though it's the last thing what's gonna happen. And still, here we are again.

We went through everything you can imagine starting from "I can't change anything"up to "love would have been enough". And everything you can and can't imagine in the between.

"Can you just fall in love with me," I turned my back. Only later I remembered how many times he has actually said it.

"I would like to say yes but I am not allowed to."

What's wrong with lying, it's the currency of the world today?? That's when I stormed out. I grabbed my Gucci suitcase, closed the door, quietly, no emotions, politely said good-bye to his bodyguard, sat in my Aston, drove away few blocks and screamed. Screamed for all the illusions that went down the drain, screamed for all the mornings with no morning coffee with him, screamed for all the brilliant little business affairs that had to end. And then I drove, just miles and miles around the empty city.

"Greg," I sent a text message to my best one. "It's over and I'm damn torn".

He called in a second. I told him only partially but it was enough. "You idiot, what do you think he could have said. What do you think men say when you hurricane over them? They block. Now you turn around and you go back. And you just hope you'll be taken back".

You need someone to know better. Someone who is in the same situation that Alex.

"His bodyguard let me in, the start is good," I whispered to Greg over the phone.

Alex was lying in his bed, texting with his iPad next to him. If he would have been browsing his iPad while I was showing the only tantrum we had in a year, not even Mother Mary could have returned me. Besides I'm not a true fan of Mother Mary.

"I went after you but then I knew you'll be back". Later I'd tell about it Greg and he'd get pissed, why should he play god if someone takes miracles a s granted.

"How far did you get?"

He looks amazed, "what does it matter".

It does, I wonder if the bodyguard had seen the whole scene. I don't answer.

"Just send me the text you were sending".

He goes on clicking and my phone beeps. I don't understand what he's trying to say. Riddles, riddles. I understand just that he knew that I couldn't leave him this way and he couldn't leave me. I don't tell him anything about the divine touch.

"Beep", goes my phone again.

"This time it's not me,"Alex shakes his head.

"We'll it's you...And again it's you".

"Well, then your being tapped then. First one for you being tapped, second one for me being tapped. Your battery is low all the time, you get messages twice, your sound is clear, meaning you're being trapped."

I smiled "I don't mind, hope they enjoy as much as I. And honey, can you please bring back my suitcase in the morning".

The color of your eyes

For the second hour in a row Architect stared out of the window. To the left, a little bit behind the corner yet still visible, was park. Not for a long week-end walks, he had better places for that purpose, but the usual lonely evenings park. For some reason people called it a paradise. Actually with a capital letter - Paradise. So let it be Paradise. Down below was an ocean. Only he one's that knew were aware that it was filled out of tears. The happy tears and the sad ones. Although, as the Architect was quite humble, he let the ocean to be cleaned once in a week, leaving behind only happy tears. Out of a blue, even Architect, was surprised, the goldfish moved i and decided to stay. That's when the Architect knew the ocean needs to be cleaned, as when goldfish started to turned grey. Out of the window looking right we see nothing. Architects keeps it under wraps and we are not even sure he himself knows what's in there.

Today was not the usual day. Today the puzzle out of so many pieces had to be compiled that even Architect had to think. He was writing a story compiling everything possible and impossible. He had even chosen the lead roles. First probability and ruling out. Then creativity and while charting something in his drawing table, the little devilish sparks emerged in his eyes. And then, when there was only four candidates left, he tossed his dice. The final chosen ones had to have the luck.

And luck they indeed have had. They had fought, sometimes fallen but by the end of the day not lost a case. The man was the successful cover boy politician for a twisted yet dynamic country. Successful and self-confident, rich and ironic. The woman was lawyer, specializing on mergers and acquisitions, a little spoiled and used to get what she wanted. Just like the man. The different nationalities made everything even more fun. As adding the distance and families. And why not rivalry but that part Architect will have to figure out yet. The story was supposed to be his amusement on prime time between 5.13-5.18. He'll see how good they'll be.

Architect grinned and put away the ancient black ballpoint pen. One of the most complicated stories could begin. It was time to pull the final straw by creating their meeting point. And GO!