I got a text from millionaire ex yesterday afternoon saying that he had hired a limo to take him to The Belfry and would I like to join him on his excursion - champagne would be provided. Since I was doing nothing but sitting on my sofa I felt that I had no real reason to decline so decided that I should take advantage of the offer.
I got to his house at about half five, the limo was booked for nine so it gave us a bit of time to get reaquainted (and drink a couple of bottles of champagne). He'd offered to cook and to be honest it had slipped my mind how appalling he is at it so was a little surprised when he managed to make a complete mess of the fillet steak and lobster tails - no mean feat I can assure you. Since I was in a princessy mood I demanded that he order me a pizza (OK, not that princessy - I didn't demand caviar).
We reminised about old times and I did a couple of strategic imitations of him in my newly practiced American accent (thanks newbie - for the practice) to show him why we'd separated in the first place. Try 'I cayn't have mah wo'man hayngin' around town with other guys!' and 'you're an intelligent wo'man, cayn't you see that ah don't like you smokin' whay cayn't you just quit?'. He took this in very good humour and denied that he'd said any of it.
Being American and a lot more flash about his money than many of us Brits; he showed me a phone that cost him £2900. It has a concierge button so that you can arrange a limosine or helicopter from wherever you are. Later on I asked him to use it to satisfy my craving for KFC but apparently the service doesn't stretch to that. Waste of money if you ask me.
He also admitted that when we were together he was trying to get me pregnant. Obviously he didn't stand a chance since I'm pretty dilligent in the contraception area but I thought this was an interesting role reversal; the millionaire trying to knock the poor(ish) girl up.
I acted like a proper lady all night though - the champagne didn't really seem to affect me that much - until the end of the night when I fell out of the limo in my usual haphazard style. Can't be ladylike all the time can we?
The usual marriage proposals poured out as he got more confident (or maybe it was more drunk). He demanded that I quit my job and let him look after me and show me how to take my net worth to £1 million within a year. I declined. We all know that there's no such thing as a free lunch; even from the wealthy.
I had a great night though. He is good company - but a bit like a chocolate pudding; nice in small doses but have to much and you find it's a bit rich.