Introduction
I've never been much of a storyteller.
No, that's Elle's job. Ask her for a story and she'll happily comply, launching into some tale of love or hate, comedy or tragedy: gesturing wildly; giving unique voices to every character.
Sometimes I think that Elle believes her whole life is a storybook.
Sometimes I don't know what to think.
Married for a year and yet she still is the one person I can't analyze. She puzzles me; intrigues me, and though I enjoy simplicity, a mystery now and then is a lovely event.
Oh, but you don't know who Elle is.
Pardon me, I forgot.
Elle is my wife. And this book – the one you now hold in your hands – is a love story.
More than a love story – it's a person story. Nonfiction. A true romance, if I may use the clichéd phrase.
And although she's staring over my shoulder as I type these words, I will still inform you that she is the most gracious and beautiful of women – inside and out.
(Yet another cliché. Elle, what have you done to me?)
I presume that this book will sell widely, due to my influence and position. Middle-aged businessmen will flock to the shelves, hoping to find the secret of success hidden in the pages. They will assume my first autobiography to be a strictly business memoir – all wealth, stocks, and statistics.
If you are one of those middle-aged businessmen, I'll save you a lot of trouble right here: my success is comprised of roughly 20% wise investing, 20% original business ventures, and 10% advantageous connections.
The other 50%? Being born a millionaire.
I'm very sorry. You have my permission to put the book back on the shelf and storm out of the store, disappointed in my lack of advice.
Or, perhaps, you could bear with me.
Because, though I won't tell you how to get rich, I have a story to tell, and stories are really nothing more than wealth in words.
It's the story of how I always held the cards – an expert player, who knew how to twist every move to his advantage.
Until one day, I played the Queen of Hearts.