I returned from Kentucky, where I was secretly with the man in the Stetson hat, with a master plan for the future. If the strategy was advantageous, the man in the Stetson hat would take care of my son and myself for years to come. The pivotal part of the scheme was that it would be his idea. The hot days of the summer sun were passing quickly. I did not have time to spare. My son would be leaving for school in a few short weeks. When he left, divorce proceedings with my husband would begin. I did not want my child to endure yet another dissolution, especially when he was about to embark on a life-changing event. We agreed not to tell him until he came home for holiday break. With any hope, by then the divorce would be settled.
Our son was a gifted scholar. A very bright future lay ahead of him. He would attend an out-of-state college on a partial academic scholarship. His schooling would still require a substantial amount of money, much more than I would have. My son and I were very close. If he had any suspicion his family was breaking up, he might not leave for school. I was on pins and needles. My plan had to be successful.
In Kentucky, the man in the Stetson hat was surprised when I informed him that my husband was in the casino the evening we met. He remarked that if I were his wife, he would not allow me out of his sight. His comments allowed me to follow-up the conversation with where my husband and I were in our relationship. He seemed to be shocked and appalled with our complete lack of sexual activity. In his mind, this was my reasoning for stepping out. His reaction reassured me he was smitten.
When he told me he loved me in Kentucky, it gave me power. I began to execute my plan. I had to make his desire for me become his addiction. His urge to be with me needed to be excruciating. I had to be his drug; only I could give him his fix. I could not be too available to the man in the Stetson hat while I was still married. If I was too convenient, he might favor my staying with my husband. After all, he was married. My scheme did not involve him divorcing his wife. It only required him to take care of my financial needs and desires.
Soon after our Kentucky trip, the private jet delivered the man in the Stetson hat to the desert for an overnight visit. A five-star hotel not too far from my home was the accommodations for the evening. This trip began the tradition of being met with five to 10 beautifully wrapped luxury items with greeting cards attached to each. I found this to be fun, and maybe this was why I looked so forward to our visits. He would watch me open each card and gift. He had a knack for picking the most eloquent greeting cards. He would underline several meaningful words and personally write in each card.
On this particular evening he ordered a bottle of my favorite wine, Silver Oak. Normally, he did not drink alcohol. However, this visit he indulged a bit. We sat on the patio for hours, and he shared more with me than he probably realized. I had three hours of interrogating him. I asked very personal questions. He provided intricate details to each of my inquiries. I was getting to know him well.
After our question-and-answer session, we retired to the bedroom for an evening of lovemaking. This evening, a hotel housekeeping employee walked into the suite in the middle of us both naked. We giggled and laughed. We were growing closer and more comfortable with each visit. After our lovemaking, the man in the Stetson was very disappointed as I dressed to leave. He tried several times to persuade me to spend the night with him at the hotel. I could have easily done so. But I declined. He had to miss me for my master plan to work. The time was fast approaching for me to close the deal.