by Firoze Hirjikaka

Created on: February 12, 2009   Last Updated: February 14, 2009

Phillip was in love, though not with any woman in particular. He was in love with the idea of love. Having grown up on a diet of Keats and Daphne du Maurier novels, Phillip spun his own fantasies on what love should be like. At 44 though, Phillip had to admit to himself that the fantasy was wearing a bit thin.

Phillip was an investment banker who lived in a small apartment on 14th Street in midtown Manhattan. Although he owned a Saab, he preferred to walk to his office off Wall Street. God knows he didn't get much exercise at the office; and his hectic work schedule meant that gym was not an option. Besides he liked observing people as he walked and trying to guess what they would be like. There was something different in the air this day, he noticed. Some people were actually smiling as they passed strangers on 5th Avenue a rare occurrence for New York. It hit him when he passed by a shop window festooned with oversize hearts: it was Valentine's Day.

Something else in that shop window struck him. A young woman was balancing on a chair, trying to adjust one of the big hearts suspended from the ceiling. He realized he was staring; and was about to walk away when she tumbled off the chair and fell in a heap. As she picked herself up, she turned around and looked directly at him. Then she smiled. It was not an embarrassed smile, but as if she was slightly mocking him. Phillip stood transfixed. He felt something stirring inside him that was alien to him; a churning of his intestines which, strangely, felt wonderful. He decided to go inside the shop.

This was crazy, he told himself. He was not a creature of impulse; and he had no reason to go to a shop selling hearts. Before he knew it, however, he was standing in front of her and she was asking how she could help him. He started noticing things about her. For one thing, her skin was of a different color not exactly black, but more of a light ebony. He was surprised that he had not noticed such an obvious feature when he was outside. It was as if that smile had hypnotized him. She was petite, with not so much curves, as gentle swells.

"Are you here to buy something special for your wife", she asked.

"Erah" he choked out. What was happening to him? This was the same Phillip who was renowned in his friends circle for his biting wit and lightning-fast comebacks; and here he was stammering like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"For your girlfriend then," she continued, as he continued to goggle at her.

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