1997
Will
I have a hard time getting up in the morning. Just the sight of my life was enough to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock enough times to make the new time to get up somewhere around 3:00 PM. I get dressed in a suit that's too tight, ride to work in a cab that has a distinct smell I can't quite figure out, walk into my office, not without being greeted by my secretary, who won't talk to me unless absolutely necessary. I do nothing but play Solitaire on the computer and do paper work for most of the time, unless I'm involved in a case, and won't leave until I take a lunch break or it's finally the end of this monotonous work day.
If I had known this is what being a lawyer entailed, I would have become an actor or musician, something to get a little more excitement in my life.
Of course it has to rain today, and there's no cab in sight. Any shred of hope that this day could possibly turn around has been destroyed, but it's typical.
At least I have Grace and Jack, the only great things in my life, really. Coming home, knowing that she is only a phone call away, knowing that he'll be over in a heartbeat if I ask, that's what keeps me going. They have been amazing, and I can not imagine life without them. I would just like to have one more person in my life. That significant other. Where, when, how I will find them, I have no idea. I don't even know if I'll find them. But I hope I do, and I hope it's soon.
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Will watched as his wallet broke free from the prison of his pocket and slid on the sidewalk over to the bench that was mere inches from him. He went to get it, only to be blocked by a large black umbrella. When his view of the sidewalk was given back to him, the wallet was gone; the owner of the umbrella had taken it. Figures, Will thought. The umbrella moved to reveal the face of a gorgeous woman in his mind, delicate features, soft eyes; she looked absolutely stunning with his wallet in hand. It took him a second to finally realize who she was.
"You're Karen Walker," he said. "You're married to Stanley, he owns just about everything. I see you everywhere." He had always had a thing for her. He had always seen her on the local news, on the streets, and he always wanted one chance to be with her. He didn't hold his breath; there was no way someone like her could ever fall for someone like him. But it didn't mean he couldn't try.
She opened up his wallet and took a quick peek at his ID. "You're Will Truman," she said as she handed it back to him. "You're soaking wet, waiting for a taxi. I see you nowhere."
So this is the game she wanted to play. "What if I told you that I was the kind of guy who would travel to all parts of the world—it wouldn't matter where; Paris, Rome, Australia—just to see you smile? I would fly in, come see you, wait until you smile, and then leave."
"I'd say you were delusional." Somehow, that just made him want to try even harder. Something he says has to make her realize that he is better for her than her husband.
"What if I was the kind of guy who, on a whim, just decided to fill your room with one thousand roses?"
She looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Only one thousand?"
"It wouldn't be romantic at all? Has the high-society-socialite world jaded you that much?"
She gave him a half-smile. "Maybe that's it." She looked away just as a black stretch limousine pulled up to the curb. She stood up and began to walk away.
"Wait," he called out. She turned around. "I want to take you to dinner."
"I'm married," she replied, "you know that. I can't." She opened up the door and got inside.
"Just give me a chance," he said as the limo sped off. He was instantly smitten with her. He was not about to give up that easily.