“You certainly were gone long enough,” Alice said when Amy walked back into the office that afternoon. “What took you so long?”
“I got caught up,” Amy answered, beaming. “A man from upstairs took me to lunch at Giglio’s.”
“A man from upstairs?” Alice asked, bemused. “What man from upstairs?”
“Only the sexiest man alive!” Amy giggled, unable to contain herself from the amazing afternoon lunch that she had shared with Houston. “His name is Houston Storm, and he is a part owner of Giglio’s, and he was able to get us served for lunch there even though they were closed until dinner time! He drives a Dodge Viper, and is a real gentleman!”
“Houston Storm?” Alice asked, frowning slightly.
“Yes!”
“Houston Storm who owns Larger Than Life Love, Inc., Houston Storm?”
“Maybe…I’d say it probably is, because ‘Storm’ isn’t a very common last name, is it?”
“No…it isn’t,” Alice answered, looking positively alarmed now.
“Yeah, it’s got to be the same man,” Amy said, not noticing the look on her supervisor’s face. “Why do you ask, anyway?”
“Well,” Alice said with the air of someone who was picking her words very carefully, “Houston Storm is rich.”
“Well, duh! He owns a third of Giglio’s, and drives a Viper! Of course he’s rich.”
“No…you don’t understand. He’s not ‘oh, I hit the lottery’ rich, or ‘I own twelve cars’ rich…he’s ‘I bankroll the lottery and own twelve hundred car lots’ rich.”
“What are you talking about, Alice? Don’t you think he’d have told me all this?”
“Well, if you don’t believe me, look at this,” Alice said, handing her last month’s edition of The Californian magazine. On the cover was a black and white photo of the man who had just shown Amy a phenomenal time, right there on the cover. By contrast, the headline on the cover was in bright red, and Amy read this aloud: “Houston Storm: Most Eligible Bachelor in San Francisco Bay Area, page 24.”
Amy immediately began flipping frantically through the pages to find the article. When she did, she found a countdown of notable bachelors. She flipped quickly through the pages and was shocked at what she read.
“Houston Storm, thirty-two, has been named the ‘San Francisco Bay Area’s Most Eligible Bachelor’ yet again. The combination of his devilish good looks and fat wallet combine to make this man the single most sought after commodity out there. Valued at well over $19 billion, the San Jose playboy has his hands in every major business in the area, not least his own ‘Larger Than Life Love, Inc.,’ which controls seven of the ten largest online dating sites in the country.
He can often be found pursuing his top three interests: driving fast cars, buying stakes in notable businesses, and sleeping with the most notable women in Hollywood.
Storm has not been in a long term relationship for the entire time that he has appeared on the Forbes Billionaires List, on which he is ranked a healthy forty-fifth, above such notable names as 21st Century FOX CEO Rupert Murdoch (77th) and makeup mogul Leonard Lauder (137th). Of Californian residents, he is behind only former Oracle CEO Larry Ellison (5th), Facebook kingpin Mark Zuckerberg (16th), and Google magnates Larry Page and Sergey Brin (19th and 20th respectively). This has resulted in him also being included in this publication’s list of the ‘Top 10 Richest Californian Men’ for each of the last five years. (See the exclusive interview with Houston Storm on pg. 51)”
“Well,” Amy said when she finished reading the article, “I guess I just went on a date with a billionaire.”
“Wait, dear…there’s more,” Alice said. “He’s a playboy. He is seen every other week with a different actress from down in Hollywood.”
“I was asked out on a date by a billionaire…” Amy said, clearly not listening.
“Look!” Alice said, snapping her young colleague out of her reverie. Taking the younger woman by the shoulders, Alice said, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Please, please be careful, okay?”
The next day, when Amy arrived in the office, she was surprised to find twelve dozen long-stemmed red roses, and a very solemn Alice. “Morning,” her boss said to her, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a card in the other. “They’re for you,” she said, handing Amy the handwritten card.
As she took the card, Amy couldn’t help but wonder what in the world was going on. Silently, she read, Amy…I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since we parted yesterday. If you would, please come to my office on the seventeenth floor today at noon. Your supervisor told me that you will have one hour for lunch today, and I would love for you to spend it with me. Love, Houston.
Amy did not know what to think. The day before, she had thought that she had simply caught the ardor of a notable businessman who wanted company for lunch. Afterwards, she was even more confused by the article in The Californian and the things that Alice had said. That night, she had looked up “Houston Storm playboy” on Google, and found a positive treasure trove of pictures and stories linking him to various women. Models, athletes, actresses, and the slutty daughters of hotel magnates…they were all there! The one glaring absence from the pictures was that of a woman who looked anything like she did.
And then, she came in to work, only to become more confused than ever, because Houston had given her 144 red, long-stemmed roses! Everything she could find on the man hinted that he simply did not show affection to the women he was with. Was she any different? Was he just trying to add her to his list of trophies conquered? Did he actually see a potential future with the twenty-eight year old grief counselor who hadn’t had a steady boyfriend in almost seven years?
And most importantly, would Amy be able to tame him before he burned her?