I felt conflicted. I had originally planned on juggling multiple arrangements simultaneously to make more money. But now that I had met the doctor and I could see what was developing between us, I felt that I owed it to myself to be exclusive with him. I wanted to see where things went.
Of course, it would derail my original plan and mean that I would only be getting an allowance of $5k a month. Money would still be very tight, but I could make it work.
I hated the word “allowance.” It made me feel like a child. Couldn’t they come up with a better term for a large sum of cash being gifted monthly by a sugar daddy? I guess not. The world of arrangements was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. But it certainly wasn’t boring.
The doctor had been giving me a white envelope filled with cash each time we met. Each one had his name “Dr. Mark Reilly” in small handwritten block letters at the top right corner, and below it a stamp marking the envelope “Confidential.” Even though it felt a little awkward and transactional, it was a huge relief each time I saw him. I wondered if maybe as things got more serious between us, he’d be willing to negotiate on my allowance a little. After all, if he could cough up $5k a month for his mistress out of his “slush fund” (aka, secret bank account his wife didn’t know about) maybe he could toss in a little more.