Lost and Found Out

Darien knew he was a good creative writer and never needed anyone to support his ideas. He didn't need anyone to critique his work because he considered himself as his own toughest critic. Countless times Darien had started a project only to discard it because he felt something was missing.

Now, was just another case of wadded-up papers and nothing to show for his effort. Darien had toiled over his latest project and was under the gun to get something turned in to his editor. He had procrastinated on this project just like he had all the others, and now he was down to the wire.

It never failed. Darien had always put things off until the last minute. Perfectionism always came at a high price. He had become successful at being late. Deliver a good product and they can overlook tardiness. He had learned the trick in high school and had developed it over the years.

Now, he was truly in a bind. Darien had three days, 72 hours, to complete a rough copy for the editor. If not, it would cost him 20,000 dollars. He had no idea what the next novel would be and he had become desperate over the past weeks. It would mean writing around the clock and lots of Black Rifle coffee.

Darien needed a break and time to think. He had been in a troublesome relationship for some time and wanted to figure things out. Darien had the worst writer's block that he'd ever had, but refused to blame her for his failure to produce a good product. He simply needed time to gather his thoughts and emotions.

The Ride

Darien had decided to take a cab to Central Park. A little time to clear his head would do the trick. The first cab he saw, he flagged down and got in. He didn't notice the little black book at first, but as he put on his seatbelt he felt it. Looking down, he realized what it was and picked it up.

Naturally, he opened it to check it out. The first thing he noticed was the lottery ticket inside the front cover. Then as he thumbed through the book on his short ride, he saw it was filled with women's names and numbers. Darien was more focused on the ticket than anything else.

Could he really be so lucky as to win the lotto on a ticket that someone else lost? Why not? Darien was desperate for money, so the first thing he did was check the numbers on the New York Lottery website. Amazingly enough, the first three numbers, 02, 25, and 65 were all matches. And then, the power-ball of 19 was also a match.

Darien couldn't believe his luck! If he hadn't decided to go to the park, he would have never gotten so lucky! 20,000 dollars was exactly what he needed to cover his losses should he not get his rough draft done on his latest project. What he needed more than the money was a story with a great plot. Little did he know that it was in the pages of the little black book.

Ecstatic, Darien jumped out of the cab and practically skipped through the park, clutching the lotto ticket as he found an empty bench. It was Saturday morning his project would be due at 9:00 A.M. on Tuesday. Monday, he could go cash out the ticket, but that didn't solve the problem of his writer's block. He had to put something together for his editor.

Darien could not stop looking at the lottery ticket and checking the lottery website on his phone just to be sure he had won. He checked, double-checked, and checked again and again just to be positive. Darien stuck the ticket in his wallet and then thought about the little black book. Darien wondered who the unlucky bastard was that had lost it.

Darien was curious and went through the book page by page. The names were entered into the book alphabetically by last names. Eva Anderson was the first entry. There was also her number and address, as well as notations about her favorite color. As Darien went through the book, he realized the guy who belonged to the book was a player - a modern-day Cassanova.

Rebecca Davis, Elise Horner, Brenda Killen - the names went on and on. Darien simply couldn't believe how many women were listed in the book and he hadn't even gotten to the L's yet. Darien went back and started counting and there were 67 women so far. "Unbelievable" Darien said to himself. Some had stars drawn beside the names. Darien believed it was a sexual rating for the women.

Darien chuckled aloud as he thought about the guy that lost his goldmine of names, numbers, and notes. He continued reading and counting. Darien knew that Sara Langford's favorite flowers were daisies. He knew that Charlotte Matthews's favorite restaurant was Sunderlands. He knew that Kim Nunn's favorite color was pink. 117 women so far and he was still in the P's. They went on and on.

Big City, Small World

It was in the T's and number 202 when Darien's mouth fell open and in disbelief, his heart dropped. Surely Jessica Thomas wasn't the name he was reading. He read the number and the notations. Immediately Darien opened his phone and pulled up Jess's number. (718) 343-8538.

Darien couldn't believe he was actually reading his own girlfriend's name and number. What made it even worse were the notes by her name. It said her favorite wine was Hearst Paso Robles 'Bunkhouse' and she had a 5-star rating by the guy who owned the little black book. Darien simply couldn't believe what he was seeing, but it was right there literally in black and white.

Darien didn't know what to do. He was heartbroken, but yet relieved. He had known something was going on with Jess but he never could put his finger on the problem. Well, not until now anyway. Darien felt betrayed. What had appeared to be a stroke of luck on a Saturday morning had become a nightmare.

Darien loved Jess and really believed she loved him. He started to call her, but couldn't. What would he say? Darien wanted to know who the book belonged to. There was no way to know without confronting Jess. Perhaps it was before he and Jess had started seeing each other, or hell, it could have even been last week. Darien had no way of knowing.

What had started as a plan to clear his mind had turned to delight over a winning lotto ticket and then to shear pain over a mysterious little black book with his girlfriend's name in it. Darien was devastated. He needed to call someone to help him figure the mess out. Thomas was his best friend and he would help make sense of it all.

Darien called and got no answer, so it went to voicemail. He left a message saying that it was urgent that Thomas return his call. Darien's eyes filled with tears as he kept reading in the little black book. When his phone rang, he saw it was Thomas and had a brief moment of relief.

Darien answered his call and immediately heard Thomas in a panic. It seems as though Thomas had bought a lottery ticket and picked out his numbers but then lost the ticket. Out of pure curiosity, Darien listened to Thomas bitch and moan.

Shaking his head, Darien asked what the numbers were that Thomas had picked. Thomas replied, "My birthday and my football number in high school." His birthday was February 25, 1965, and his football jersey number was 19. Darien couldn't say a word and was sick to his stomach.

Darien cut off the call and thought about the entire situation. He had discovered his money but lost a lot. Knowledge is worth a lot. In this case, 20,000 dollars is what his former best friend and his former girlfriend were worth. But, at least he had a good story with a great plot to write about.