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We arrived back at his home, and I immediately, inexplicably, became violently ill all over his walls.
He made me laugh, and despite being persistent, he wasn't as annoyingly aggressive as other guys.Just brutal."Nights passed, and he grew more ambitious, chatting with me by the door instead of going inside to hang with his entourage.Finally, the owner pulled me aside and said, "I took you off the schedule Saturday night.""Why? He also paid your salary for your night off."The owner was a good friend who had known my admirer for years and said he had never seen him act like this.I was in charge of getting celebs to come in—and keeping B-listers out. On one of the early nights, a coworker yanked me aside to hiss, "You don't know who that is?The gig was glamorous but tough, and I learned quickly that many male VIPs had god complexes and felt entitled to my attention. " I didn't at first, but apparently everyone else did."Just give me a chance! Go find a chick who's impressed with your day job."He would shake his head and mumble, "Brutal, man.I never felt like I could relax with him, because my feelings for him were progressing faster than the relationship was. "April Atlanta" was wondering if my boyfriend had received her pictures. I had finally arrived at a place where I could accept he was no longer an overgrown child.Seven months into dating him, I met him in a midwestern city for 36 hours while he was in the middle of an 11-day away-game road trip. He was a grown-up, and he had made forgivable mistakes.And yes, I saw how many people walked up to him every night.Our club had the prettiest girls in LA, and they all wanted to talk to him. The night before our date, I Googled him—the more I learned, the more impressed I was.A few years prior, I left a relationship with a guy who cheated on me. ""She wants to make sure you received her pictures," I screamed as I launched his phone at his chest."What? At a table filled with our friends, I stared at him.And every night at work, I saw famous men slipping their wedding rings into their pockets so they could hook up with girls they met at the club. He got up to use the restroom, and for the first time ever, I looked at his phone. Not because he was wearing a silly oversize sombrero, but because I realized I was ready.