The Big Surprise I Never Expected From My Millionaire Fiancé

Sex with my older fiancé, Patrick, was becom­ing increas­ingly enjoy­able. He was mechan­i­cally adept and very oral. I had adjusted to his sched­ule of needs, which was once at night and every morn­ing. Week­ends were more frequent.

In the morn­ing, I would show up at my office with this glow and my boss, who would have liked to have a rela­tion­ship with me him­self, would look at me and smile like he knew exactly what was going on. I was like a purring kit­ten and I think it helped me in my inter­ac­tions with oth­ers, espe­cially those I super­vised. I was kind, firm, and con­fi­dent. And I was a lot more cre­ative; I swear “cre­ative juices” aren’t all in the brain.

It was spring­time in the Windy City and I had a birth­day com­ing up in a cou­ple of weeks. I thought it was odd that Patrick hadn’t asked me what I wanted to do or where we might go, but we were both fran­ti­cally busy with our work sched­ules and I was too happy to worry about birth­day plans.

As it turned out, my birth­day fell in the mid­dle of the work week and on a night that I was fly­ing in from Wash­ing­ton D.C. I had spo­ken to Patrick the night before from my hotel room; he took my flight infor­ma­tion down and said he’d pick me up and we’d go out for a great birth­day dinner.

My flight was late, but Patrick was right there wait­ing for me. I thought he would sur­prise me in his cus­tom­ary man­ner by tak­ing me to a new restau­rant, but instead, he drove north to one of our casual hang­outs in the sub­urbs, near the Hub­bard Street Fish Market.

I was rather dis­ap­pointed that he was treat­ing my birth­day like another ordi­nary night and I was a lit­tle sharp with him when he asked me ques­tions about my busi­ness trip. I grew quiet and, I sup­pose, a bit sullen. I couldn’t help but won­der if he was going to give me a gift in a small box. In my own mind, I knew I had grown a lit­tle spoiled by this older man who seemed to have unlim­ited finan­cial resources.

We parked the car and began walk­ing toward the restau­rant. As always, he held my hand and was always there to make sure I stepped up and off the curbs in my high heels. Some­times I won­dered if he ever slipped up and for­got his gen­tle­manly ways. I doubted it. It was such an inte­gral part of his character.

We entered the foyer of the restau­rant and I walked toward the bar area, which had lit­tle tables cov­ered in brown paper, close to all the fresh seafood in glass cases. This is where we usu­ally sat. We enjoyed watch­ing the peo­ple come and go and it was a more relaxed set­ting than the din­ing room, which had white linens and a more exten­sive menu. Patrick steered me away from the table and said he thought we should use the din­ing room tonight, since it was my birth­day. “Finally, he’s acknowl­edg­ing it’s a spe­cial occa­sion,” I thought to myself.

We entered the din­ing room and the maître d’ began escort­ing us to the far back of the restau­rant. Instead of seat­ing us at a table for two, he opened the French doors to a pri­vate event room. The room was filled with all of my friends from Chicago—mostly my girl­friends, but a gen­er­ous sprin­kling of men as well, many of whom we knew from sailing.

I was stunned to say the least. It was the first sur­prise birth­day party of my life!

  • Ted Heiss­ner

    Have had only one sur­prise birth­day party in my 65 years. Hope to be sur­prised again.