The perfect love life is no different from many other things in life; an illusion. There's not much to be said when you haven't experienced life to the fullest, and nor can you draw so many conclusions. One thing stands, the hunger and thirst for love will never quench.
Being one of the most successful women in California makes you an automatic prey to the male specie. Everyone claims to love you but leaps off after getting the little grains you allow from your abundant wealth. What else do men want?
She hurled the stones through the window. A crashing sound was heard alongside the excited yell of an unfortunate passerby.
"Jackpot!" She heard as she leaned on the bars of her window for support, silently hoping it had harmed whoever it landed on. He smiled and looked up at her. "Thanks!" He said and scurried away.
Vivienne Chavez rolled her eyes.
That was the least of her worries, an imitation of the latest stone she had in her store. It was more promising than the Figaro chain that hit the market last week but wasn't doing numbers. That topped the list of her worries, after men.
The store in Moreno Valley had just opened, and she had expected it'd take much longer before the fake stuff began to circulate. It didn't cost her much since there were people who thought it'd taint their class if they bought anywhere asides from the Vier stores.
"Excuse me, Ms. Chavez, Mr. Leyva is up here already. Should I send him in?" It was her secretary calling.
Her stomach growled and she looked at it. Even if she didn't take any lessons from the time she had her parents, she did learn not to work on an empty stomach, no matter how difficult things were.
"No," she replied. "I'll be out in a few minutes. Tell him it'll be a lunch meeting. I haven't had anything to eat all day, except the croissant we picked and it didn't do much. I could really use the time."
Vivienne heard her start a small argument, but she wasn't in the mood for any of those. She sighed and dropped the phone.
Staring at the papers splayed across her desk, she lifted her fingers to feel them. One after the other, she traced her fingers over the numbers, counting to see if any matched the revenue she generated daily, and after doing the maths, she discovered that they barely scratched the surface.
The papers included invoices, stating how much these imitators had made by selling adulterated diamonds along with the printouts of adverts they placed on the internet.
The pictures of the stores, taken as evidence brought a wave of nostalgia. It reminded her of her small beginning when she was more interested in adorning people than love.
Reanalyzing this, she discovered she couldn't judge them. Every man had his reasons for doing things. If they're more interested in imitation, then so be it. They'd have to fight her for trademark rights and it was only a matter of time before this happened.
Not long after, it started ringing again. "I thought I made myself clear. You should know by now not to–" she paused. She was doing it again, letting her emotions get the best of her.
"Look, I'm sorry Eva," she sighed. "I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. You know that's not me. I just had a slight issue with the new products and it's been quite a lot."
There was silence on the other end. "Hello?" She called when a few minutes had gone and she had gotten no response. She took a glance at the number on her screen and that's when she realized she wasn't talking to Eva.
The number was displayed on her screen with the unknown tag and a quick search showed no records of a previous conversation with the contact.
"Hello?" She called out again. It could be a stalker, she thought. It wasn't out of character for fans to do crazy things like this when they got the chance.
She heard a throat clear from the other end. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting this way, Ms. Chavez." He apologized.
Vivienne felt a lot calmer. She involuntarily exhaled and her caller chuckled.
"I see that I got you a little tensed with my silence, and I apologize, once again."
His voice was calming, the kind she wanted to hear every morning, but vain is the trust in man, she reminded herself.
It was the same way he sounded, even on the last day when he decided it was best to break her and leave her begging for her rights. They all seemed welcoming, and although this was possibly business-related, it wasn't too early to write him off.
"I must say however that I am not pleased with your attitude towards potential investors or partners. I applied for this meeting a few months ago and have been waiting for when you'll be settled in the country. I got the same response every day for three weeks and it seemed the day will never come, but we're here today."
Vivienne squinted in confusion. Although she was the one in charge of her time, she barely had a glimpse of who she had to see and how long they'd been waiting, Eva did.
"I'm sorry you've had to go through all of that," she wedged the phone with her shoulder and cleared the evidence she gathered from her desk. "If you must know, I have no idea how my schedules are planned. I don't know who's on the waiting list and–"
"And you'll be going on a date with me," he finished.
"Excuse me?" Vivienne was surprised by his guts. She had received several invites from strangers but never had they seemed so authoritative.
He laughed, and it sparked something in her. "I know I didn't stutter, and that you heard me, Vivienne Chavez. It's lunch, you don't want to waste it over some meeting. I'm waiting at the reception and please, do not take your time."