Travis stood by the window of his office, eyes tracing the city skyline as the sun dipped behind the buildings, casting a warm glow that momentarily distracted him from the conundrum at hand. He turned and paced back to his mahogany desk, where a catalog of high-end gifts lay open, its pages filled with items that seemed suddenly inadequate.

　　"Flowers?" he muttered to himself, thumbing through the assortment of floral arrangements. "No, Camila's not the type to be wooed by ...