My Older Man Went on Vacation Without Me, So I Did This to Make Him Regret It: Part 2

My girl­friend, Tori, knew every­thing about me, includ­ing what hap­pened the night I met the Greek God at the auc­tion. I have always said that Tori and I have to stay best friends, no mat­ter what—we have too much on each other to be ene­mies. She knows me bet­ter than any­one else, which is why when she sug­gested that I call the Greek God, I decided to lis­ten to her.

After a long con­ver­sa­tion with Tori, I decided to text the Greek God instead of call­ing him. This sparked a tex­ting con­ver­sa­tion that lasted through the evening. I waited for the right time and dropped the hint that I would be free for the next sev­eral weeks. It didn’t take long for him to pick up on my hints, and he sug­gested I attend a party as his guest. He also pro­posed that I bring along a girl­friend. The party was still a few days away. He said he would have his peo­ple call my peo­ple, so to speak, to make the arrange­ments. I was excited. I imme­di­ately called Tori and told her to pack. I knew she would be ready at a moment’s notice—she never said no when I asked her to travel with me.

A few days later, Tori and I landed in the Greek God’s home­town. We set­tled into our hotel and pre­pared for the party. The Stet­son man wasn’t able to receive calls—it turns out that there isn’t much cell ser­vice along the Rhine River. I wasn’t sure what to think. Instead, I decided to enjoy this time as a sin­gle girl. I often won­der if things might have turned out dif­fer­ently if the Stet­son man and I had been able to speak while he was away. My imag­i­na­tion was run­ning away with me. I was afraid the bar­ber he cheated on me with might be along for the trip with him.

The Greek God’s party was at a local restau­rant. It was nice, but noth­ing out of the ordi­nary. He came over and exchanged pleas­antries with me and Tori, and we set­tled into a night that would for­ever be remembered.

The first thing I thought when I saw this man for the first time that night at the auc­tion was that he was as gor­geous as a liv­ing, breath­ing Greek God. He had a chis­eled jaw­line and square shoul­ders. He was tall, well put-together, and did he ever smell good. He was seated at a very long table with about 20 peo­ple. It was clear that the men with him were all ball play­ers, and not just any players—they were a pro team along with all of their groupie girl­friends who were either sit­ting near or on their laps. I looked at my girl­friend in amaze­ment. This was cer­tainly a live­lier group of peo­ple than I’d been spend­ing time with while with the Stet­son man.

Imme­di­ately, I real­ized this man was going to be my replace­ment sugar daddy for the Stet­son man. It wasn’t just a feel­ing; it was a fact, and I was going to make it hap­pen. The Greek God being mar­ried at this point didn’t mat­ter to me any longer. My hap­pi­ness was all that mat­tered to me now, and I was in sur­vival mode.