Billionaires Bundle

By: Flora Ferrari

I looked high and low, taking in all the clapping hands, and seeing all the smiling faces, until my gaze dropped from the heights of the back to the front row where the multitudes of celebrities, elite, and wealthy individuals were seated.

But I only saw one man. There he was front and center, oh so elegantly offering a golf clap as his gaze met mine.

Brian Bowen was here. He had found me, and was dead center in the front row, close enough to see my jaw drop and the shock took over as I took in the sight of the man who meant more to me than this night ever could.

How did he get here? How did he find me? How can I find him?



She’s just as beautiful as I remember her. More so if that’s even possible.

That cute little girl had blossomed into a beautiful, refined woman.

I wish I could say it all happened right before my eyes, but I can’t, because we only had that one evening. But she’s right before my eyes in the here and now.

She’s gliding through the air effortlessly in a performance that’s sure to wow the tough and cynical New York City press. By morning she’ll be a star, and it will be well deserved.

But why did she change her name? How did she get here? There are a lot of questions and I have to have the answers. Luckily the Backstage at the Ballet VIP ticket that accompanied my seat purchase will go a long way towards filling in the blanks for me.

I traded a Vincent van Gogh for these seats, and would have gladly thrown in a Claude Monet and all the tea in China to be right here, right now.

Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good, and this morning I was very, very lucky.

A new client by the name of Alex walked into my offices in Singapore, only to say how disappointed he was that he wasn’t going to get to see the new virtuoso debuting tonight in New York City.

When he mentioned ballet my ears perked up, but I knew the odds were still a long shot. When he pulled out the inflight magazine he had brought straight from his business class seat, I knew.

It was her. Only her. Always her.

I excused myself, passing Alex off to a senior associate and quickly made a call to my concierge service representative in New York. He tracked down the owner of the best seats in the house, and one Vincent van Gogh later the seats were secured. My pilot fired up the jet and I was in the air within the hour.

Thank god Singapore’s 12 hours ahead of New York. My car was waiting at JFK Airport and I was instantly on my way to the David H. Koch Theater.

“God, she’s a beautiful young woman,” I say as I watch her now.

My world, and my livelihood, revolve around art, and I know beauty when I see it. She’s the most beautiful of the beautiful. Her brown hair. Her olive skin. Her grace.

How she made something so difficult look so simple and elegant was beyond me, and apparently a number of other members of the audience.

I could see the patrons on either side of me, their mouths literally hanging open. There was an electricity in the building, all because of her.

I felt the hair on my arms stand at attention as she leapt across the stage only to be caught by two other performers.

They better not drop her. I don’t want to see this girl experience a single second of pain or anguish. I may wear fine Italian wool suits, but I’m not beyond taking my jacket off and putting up my dukes if these other performers don’t live up to their responsibility to protect her during such dangerous maneuvers. If they don’t protect her, there’s no way they’ll be able to protect themselves for what I’ll have in store for him.

But fortunately everything continues perfectly.

Every time she jumps I can see the muscles in her legs flex, even though the unitard. And her arms are toned from years of dance, and likely hours upon hours of Pilates and stretching. She’s dedicated at a level most would never comprehend, and I’m dedicated to seeing her again. Face to face.

As much as I’m enjoying this performance I can’t wait for it to end, to see her. To ask her where she’s been. To see if she’s seeing anyone, not that I care. I’ll introduce her to a world fit for a princess, fit for her and only her.

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