How an Expensive Gift Made Me Feel Better About Settling For a Much Older Man: Part 1

Kevin Federline And Sons

I arrived in the Greek God’s hotel room, finally alone. We were sup­posed to be on a roman­tic get­away, but I had just spent the car ride from the air­port to the hotel in a limo full of busi­ness­men. I missed my older man, the Stet­son man, at home; he had no idea what I was doing—he thought I was vis­it­ing my best friend Tori. I dialed the Stet­son man’s number.

When he phoned ear­lier, I could not answer his call in the limo, with the Greek God and his busi­ness asso­ciates within earshot. The Stet­son man answered after only a few rings. We spoke briefly. Thank­fully, he wasn’t any more atten­tive than he had been since return­ing from his mys­te­ri­ous trip to Europe. He was pleas­ant enough, but I hung up real­iz­ing I was where I needed to be. I would find a way to enjoy the Greek God’s atten­tion, but mostly the money from the “schol­ar­ship fund” that was con­ve­niently being deposited into my bank account.

I looked around the room. It was beau­ti­ful, as are most pres­i­den­tial suites. There were sev­eral vases filled with col­or­ful flow­ers, all in full bloom. I noticed a bright yel­low enve­lope lean­ing up against the largest vase. I picked up the sealed card and reached into my hand­bag to retrieve the Tiffany & Co. let­ter opener the Stet­son man had gifted me sev­eral years back. I car­ried this ster­ling sil­ver let­ter opener in my purse to open the numer­ous cards he gave me. I never knew what to expect with the cards, some were inti­mate, some humor­ous, some sex­u­ally explicit, but what they all had in com­mon were the per­sonal sen­ti­ments he wrote in each.

The let­ter opener had become the most prac­ti­cal gift I received. I smiled as I read the front of the card. I smiled even more when a $10,000 Louis Vuit­ton gift card fell out onto the night table. My thoughts drifted back to a place in time with the Stet­son man. He had been in Wash­ing­ton, as usual, for a busi­ness trip. The Stet­son man was very much aware of my love of his­tory and pol­i­tics. He had made sure we had reser­va­tions at my favorite hotel, the Willard, in down­town DC. I went to all of the tourist sites in the area, and with his cre­den­tials, we were granted access to the White House. But this was just the begin­ning of the trip…