Marrying a Doctor: Getting Engaged

My mother always told me that it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich guy as it was a poor guy, or "even a middle-class guy," she used to joke. So I focused on meeting guys who were very well off. I had fun in college, was a cheerleader and a sorority girl at Florida State, even entered a few beauty contests, but I didn't want anything more than casual flings while in school because at that age it is way too early to tell which guys will succeed and which won't.

Following school, I moved to Atlanta and took a job as a sales rep for Pfizer. It is no secret that the pharma companies like to hire hotties since most doctors are willing to let them in and present their products whenever they stop by. I didn't really have any desire to be in sales long-term, but I figured that there probably isn't a better place to meet doctors than inside their own offices so I thought I'd give it a try. At 26, still in great shape, blonde and always having been considered gorgeous, I had no trouble getting the job. Truthfully, they did go over my college transcript more than I thought they would, but I did have a marketing degree and good grades so it was not an issue.

Within a few months I had met Dr. James Shepherd, and I must admit, I thought he was perfect. Fit, interesting, rich, wow! Well, perfect minus one thing, he was engaged. I knew an all out seduction was out of the question, that I could come off as a gold-digging slut if I came on to strongly, so I adjusted my plan. One Monday I showed up at his office with my own engagement ring (it was actually a cubic zirconia that I had purchased myself at Target, but he would never know that.) Anyway, it gave us two newly engaged folks a lot to talk about. Everything from which church to get married in to where to hold a reception. This was working perfectly. I'd always manage to get to his office just before noon, and he would inevitably invite me in to talk during lunch in his office. His fiance was working on her doctorate at Georgia Tech, something like 50-60 hours per week so, luckily, she was never around.

I knew that I was slowly creating doubts in his mind regarding his own fiance, albeit in very subtle ways. I would always pretend to love his ideas for his wedding and reception (as ridiculous as some of them were) and act like I thought his fiance was no fun when he detailed the extremely traditional wedding that she envisioned. In his mind, I believed his wedding ideas were perfect.

During one of our conversations, I let a story slip (a completely fictitious one) about another doctor on my route who was potentially going to lose his practice during a very bitter divorce from a marriage in which there had been no prenuptial agreement. I acted completely shocked when he confided that he hadn't considered getting one either. Well, before that lunch was over, I had run down all of the pros of the agreement, and he had called the best divorce attorney in town and asked him to prepare an agreement for him. I explained that I had no problem with these agreements since all they really did was protect the practice that he had built himself. I assured him that I was certain that his fiance would understand.

Surprisingly, it didn't go that well with her (who could've have seen that coming?) The next day I could tell he was tired from having been up all night arguing with her. I was very sympathetic and soothing; First, I convinced him to not send her flowers as he had suggested. "That could come off as patronizing and make the problem worse," I calmly stated. "Right now, you only have one problem, the prenup, if she feels that you've somehow insulted her by trying to buy her off with a few flowers, then you'll have two isssues to focus on, her feelings that AND the prenup." Then I explained that he had probably just surprised her and that she would come around. I convinced him that it was just business and encouraged him to simply instruct his attorney to call her directly and discuss it with her. All Dr. Shepherd should have to do, I reassured him, is to leave her alone, and let her cool down on her own. I knew that this would be the nail in the coffin. Although I had appealed to his innate wants, namely to let his lawyer handle the unpleasantness of protecting his practice and letting his fiance come around on her own without his having to deal with it, if he could have taken a step off of the path that I had lead him down and looked at those decisions objectively, he could have seen the train wreck that was sure to come. How could he truly believe that not talking to his fiance and having lawyers calling her would be a good thing?

Sure enough, the engagement was off within a week or two; my visits to the office were filled with my sympathy and disbelief that his girl had a problem with the prenup. "You don't think she was after your money or practice during your entire relationship, do you?" I would work into the conversations occasionally. I could just tell that he was now strongly doubting the entire engagement. I needed him at least confused, if not outrightly disbelieving that whole relationship. I couldn't allow him to begin to have second thoughts or to question that he might have done something wrong. That could have lead to a reconciliation. My attire during this time was getting more provocative. Still very professional, but I was now always in skirts, stockings and heels. The Pfizer polo shirts, khakis aand flats that we were allowed to wear would stay in the closet for a while. I was now ready to win the game.

I showed up at his office at 4:45 on a Friday afternoon, stopped at the water fountain and dampened my eyes, used the key code that I had watched James use so many times to enter the backdoor of his office (bypassing the busybody receptionists) and went into his office to wait. When he came in, he was surprised to see me but quickly came to the intended realization that I had been crying and asked what was wrong. I explained that my engagement was over; my fiance had emptied my bank account because he was a compulsive gambler and that I didn't know what to do. I explained that I felt so terrible. "How could I have not known about a gambling problem?" I then got quiet and let him slip into his counselor/ problem solving mode. He comforted me, took me to dinner and offered to help however he could.

I did have a huge favor to ask, I explained. I said that I knew it sounded stupid but that I had to attend a college friend's wedding the next night and that I really didn't want to go alone. He agreed to escort me, and it went perfectly. I held his hand during the ceremony; we danced afterwards and had a great time. This obviously lead to more dates, and six months later, he asked me to marry him, and I happily accepted. I now had one big problem though: that damn prenuptial agreement. I guess there was a chance that he wouldn't risk ruining another engagement by bringing it up, but I considered that scenario extremely unlikely, as I had been such a proponent of the idea such a short time ago.

So as not to risk revealing that I had intentionally messed up his previous engagement, I preemptively brought up the prenuptial agreement.

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If you enjoyed this, look for James and my next story, "Negotiating My Prenuptial Agreement"