Not A Little Princess, But By God I'm His Wife

Coming from where I came from I told myself that loving a rich man or loving a poor man, rich was better. I was in my early twenties working reception for a large downtown law firm. After work I went down to the Hyatt bar to get invited for drinks by rich men. Cheap watch, take a hike. Really nice watch let's talk.

I had more than one false run, upstairs, wham bam, good night. And more than one dry run, lots of talk, daddy's weenie a disappointment. I got accused of being a hooker but I never asked for money so the Vise had to sit and watch.

Along comes Johnny, Rolex, smart suit, expensive drinks, dinner in the main dining room, trip upstairs, his fist hit my face, breaking my nose and the orbit of my left eye. Johnny was the enforcer for the pimp that ran the downtown hotel girls. One of the lawyers at the firm kept me from being booked for prostitution, like I said I didn't charge. The Vice was in on it with Johnny, Vice kept the hotels clean for only the right girls.

Lawyer boy had a really nice Rolex, drove a Jag, had a beach house, two ex wives with kids, lonely Daddy looking to get laid. I paid him back, pro bono for pro bono. I let him knock me up, 25 married to a 55 year old rich Daddy with two ex wives. The baby did it, that and 25 who took care of Daddy, stuff I learned growing up.

I don't ever claim I married him for love, it was about the money. But Daddy is the Daddy of my little man and you got to love your baby's Daddy.

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