Gold Digger – Story 22 – COURSE CORRECTION
Here is what Story 21 was.
Useful.
Painful, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely. The kitchen floor was cold and the tea went cold and I would prefer not to revisit the specifics.
But useful.
Because now I know.
The woman proved something important.
Not what Zoya would say it proved.
Something else.
Something practical.
Excellent.
Moving on.
I called the girls.
Not to discuss D.
I want that on the record.
Not to discuss D, not to process D, not to sit in Sara’s kitchen and cry into champagne about a man who doesn’t have a row in my spreadsheet and never did.
I called them because the plan needed a course correction and course corrections require a board meeting and my board is Sara and Claire and Zoya and that’s just organizational structure.
This was a strategy session.
I even believed that for almost seven minutes.
Sara’s kitchen.
Champagne because I said champagne.
Three faces arranged in the specific formation of women who have been told this is not about D and are absolutely certain it is about D.
“We are not discussing D,” I said.
Silence.
“Good,” Claire said.
“Nobody was going to,” Sara said.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Zoya said.
I looked at Zoya.
“You were absolutely going to say something.”
“I was going to say something,” Zoya confirmed.
“We’re not.”
“We’re not,” she agreed.
She took a long sip of champagne.
“Can I just say one – “
“No.”
She closed her mouth.
Opened it.
“It’s just that -“
“Zoya.”
She picked up her glass instead.
I told them what I needed.
A serious candidate.
Not a maybe. Not a pending. Not someone yellow trending green who I’m managing with scarcity tactics and dinner frequency calculations.
Someone who scores.
All the columns.
Someone the spreadsheet was actually built for.
Claire listened with the expression of someone who has been waiting for this specific request.
“I know someone,” she said.
Of course she did.
“From where?” I asked.
“Work adjacent. He came to something last month.” A pause. “I didn’t introduce you then because you seemed -“
“Occupied,” Sara said quietly.
“Focused,” Claire said. “On other things.”
I looked at my champagne.
“I’m not focused on other things.”
Nobody said anything.
Which was its own kind of answer.
“Tell me about him,” I said.
Claire told me.
Forty. Private equity. Never married. Wants to be. Owns property in the boring, financially reassuring way. Apparently answers messages. Apparently calls when he says he will. Claire delivered these facts with the confidence of someone presenting audited accounts.
By the end I had the notes app open and was typing.
“His name is Adam,” Claire said.
She said it the way investment bankers announce stable returns.
I typed: Adam.
Looked at it.
A new entry. A real candidate. Someone who existed in the correct columns for the correct reasons.
The plan. Clean. Working.
This was good.
Sara was smiling into her glass.
Zoya was behaving herself with what looked like significant physical effort.
“To course corrections,” Zoya said, raising her glass.
We drank.
Then Zoya said, very quietly, into her champagne:
“D though -“
“To course corrections,” I said louder.
We drank again.
Spreadsheet status: new entry:
Adam. pending research. Claire-approved. filing under: serious candidate.
Richard → active.
Noah → active. under review.
D → [row does not exist]
We did not discuss D. this statement is technically true. – Mila