She looked so peaceful curled up in bed, with her hair spread all over the pillows. Ginger was on her back with her arms outstretched, which meant she had probably moved once I had gotten out of bed. I could have stood there all morning and watched her sleep, her soft, delicate bosom moving up and down with every breath. One look at my watch, though, and I knew that I needed to leave. I still couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something even more beautiful about her that morning.
I wrote a quick note to Ginger, explaining why I had to go, and when I went to put it on the nightstand, she’d since rolled onto her stomach. I chuckled while putting it next to her alarm clock, and that’s when it hit me: she had never removed the engagement ring.
Images of us making love the night before flooded my mind, and I remembered continually rubbing my fingers over that ring as we rolled around on her bed. If I’d asked any other woman to be my fake fiancée, I’d have slipped the diamond off her finger the second we had left the restaurant, knowing its value. But that never even occurred to me with Ginger.
I started to lean forward, realizing that the ring would have to come off eventually. After all, we weren’t actually engaged. But the closer my hands got to the ring, the more hesitant I became.
So, I kissed her on the forehead and went back to my penthouse.
What would she think if she woke up and the ring was gone?
I booted up my laptop as soon as I got back home. On some level, I started to feel guilty about not working from my office in downtown Miami. But I loved the peace and quiet that came with working from home. Plus, it meant that nobody could hear me scream obscenities upon seeing all of my emails.
That morning, however, was pleasantly different. There were only five hundred emails as opposed to the usual thousand or so, and I enjoyed another cup of coffee while scanning them over.
Some of them needed my immediate attention, such as the ones from my secretary, but most of them could wait until later. I felt pretty good about the day ahead, especially since there were no emails from the De Veers Diamond Group. All I needed to do was plow through all of them, make a few phone calls, and relax with Ginger that evening.
And then I saw the email from Ria, and it had nothing to do with business.
Jorge,
I only left last night because I couldn’t believe you’d buy Ginger a diamond tennis bracelet to “prove” you’re engaged. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I know everything there is to know about you. For starters, you arenotthe marrying type. Maybe you have butterflies in your stomach with Ginger like you did with me when we first met. But what you're feeling isn't love.
The way you two were fawning all over each other was over the top and dramatic. I’m sure everyone else at The Spicy Pineapple knew you were putting on a show for me. You might be able to spot a fake diamond, but you can’t pull off a fake engagement.
Oh, and that so-called ring you got her is hideous and obnoxious.
Anyway, don’t bother calling or emailing me all day because I’m up to my ears with work.
Sincerely,
Ria
I paced back and forth at my desk for several minutes, furious that she still didn’t get it. Before getting my lawyers involved, I decided to call her one last time.
“Didn’t I make it perfectly clear that I was swamped with work today, Jorge?”
“Bullshit. We both know that you’re sitting at home, waiting for this call because of the email you sent me. You got your wish, Ria! You met Ginger, saw the engagement ring, and even saw the tennis bracelet that I bought forher—which by the way, was a graduation present. Even you acknowledged that not once during our ‘relationship’ did I ever buy you jewelry. So please, for the love of God, Ria, why won’t you accept that we’re over?
She let out an obnoxious chuckle, and I could just envision her lipstick-stained teeth sneering into the phone. “There’s nothing to accept, Jorge. You and I are meant to be together. And the more you carry on with this charade, the more I’ll dig in my heels.”
“Are you actually telling me that you still don’t believe that I’m engaged?”
“Precisely, Jorge. Remember when I said that I’d wasted the best years of my life on you? I wasn’t kidding. So if you think that I’m going back into the dating scene after all of our time—”
“You were nothing but someone to have sex with, Ria! Do you understand that? And you weren’t even that good!” Criticizing Ria’s sexual skills was about the worst thing I could have done.
“Screw you, Jorge! If I weren’t so good, you would have stopped having sex with me a long time ago! But you kept coming back for more!”
“You and I both know that’s not what happened, Ria. From day one, you were all over me, and if memory serves me correctly, I tried keeping you at bay.”
“Then how come you were always flirting with me, Jorge?”
“Please, Ria. You were the one always coming onto me. Any man with a functioning penis would have given in to you. It has nothing to do with your looks or how you perform in bed, either. But enough about this because I’m serious about dissolving our partnership. My offer still stands, Ria: five hundred million dollars, and I won’t get my lawyers involved.”
She laughed so hard into the phone that I could just picture her tilting back her head.
You crazy, maniacal, sadistic thief!
