I was back home from another so-called date with the Greek God. I was more confused than I had ever been at any other time in my dating past, including any husband and the Stetson man. I had flown to the Greek God’s city. I had taken a romantic helicopter tour with him. I had seen where he spends the majority of his time. We talked for hours in the park. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, but he had dropped me off at my hotel and I had flown out a day later, without so much as seeing him before I left.
The Stetson man would be arriving home any day now—or at least that’s what I thought. I didn’t have any sort of itinerary for him. I had started to wonder if the Stetson man would even be coming home to me. I had no idea what our relationship had become.
I had just landed in my local airport when the Greek God’s secretary phoned me. Her direction was clear: I was to meet the Greek God in Paradise Island, Bahamas the next day. She stated that his time was really committed to his team, but he wanted to schedule a day or two every other week for us to be together. This week, he wanted me to travel to Paradise Island with him.
I thought to myself that this sounded rather odd, but I also realized he was a terribly busy man, what with his ball team and all. I didn’t know whether to feel special that he wanted to pencil me in, or to be irritated that I was being put on somewhat of a back burner. The whole thing was just bizarre to me. The Stetson man never treated me this way. It was apparent the Greek God was somewhat interested in me. It was also very apparent the Stetson man had not contacted me in nearly three weeks. Beggars can’t be choosers.
I took the directions from the secretary. I already started planning my wardrobe in my head on the car ride home. His secretary purchased a first class seat for my flight to Paradise Island and she had scheduled a limo to be at the airport to take me to my Greek God upon my arrival. I kept telling myself that I could make this work. I felt lonely. It was beginning to feel like a job interview that never ended.
The morning of our next date started with my phone ringing—it was the Greek God. “Good morning, princess.” My confusion disappeared the minute I heard his voice. I knew I had to do this…