10 Dates E-Book

El Kay

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 282

Beschreibung

Louisa Williams is a middle-aged, foul-mouthed, fat chick looking for dick.

Except that maybe she’s kinda tired of all that shit?

Problem is, trusting men is not something she’s particularly good at.

And Etienne Dumas looks like every wet dream she’s ever had and feels like a future she’s not allowed to touch. 

But somehow, she finds herself agreeing to go on 10 Dates with him. 

Oh fuck... 

Leseprobe

10 Dates

Oh fuck...

Thank you to Ella Williams for always getting my jokes. For listening to my stories. For laughing in the face of trauma with me. For teaching me to be fierce when I felt like I was breaking. For loving me when I felt too ashamed to be worthy of love. You are my best friend, my chosen sister, the only person I’d hide a body for! I love you.

Thank you to my therapist. For obvious reasons.

Thank you to my exercise physiologist who told me that I really needed to write some of my life experiences down! And kept encouraging me to do it – even when I was sure I shouldn’t do that under any circumstances!

Thank you to the wonderful people who read through this book for me before I self-published it. People rarely know how much us writers need and love your comments. Especially the nice ones! I could not have been brave enough to do this without you. I was going to name you all, but I figured some of you might not want to be named in a book this crass!

Thank you to all the dickhead men who gave me the true stories part of this book… I hope every woman you meet sees right through you for the rest of your lives.

Zain, zkorejo on fiverr, thank you for the cover art… and for not losing your shit at me when I told you that Etienne needed to look like he was in love, you needed to give him more soul, it’s not about the aesthetics – it’s about the feel of the piece, the city needs to look like a warzone, this is a rom-com but not like that, I need you to understand the psychological journey Louisa is going through, each of her arse cheeks need to be rounder… thank you for taking it like a champ!

ISBN: 978-1-7635216-0-5

© El Kay 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or modified in any form, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

10/01

HonestlyI don’t think I’m asking for too much.

I don’t wanna play therapist.I don’t wanna be his mother.I am never gonna be his fucking servant.I am getting really tired of being basically a masturbatory aid.I’m generally opposed to being murdered.

Problem is I don’t have much to offer, so beggars can’t be choosers, right?Mum tells me that shit all the fucking time.She also reminds me that I’m getting on a bit and just need to settle.

So she set me up on a blind date.hahahahahahahahahhahahhahahahahahhahaaaaaaa

The fact that my third book has had a bit of success and is being made into a tv series means dick to my mother, all she cares about is no ring on this bitch’s finger.She’s already got grandkids, so I don’t know what the problem is, but here we are.

And dad’s no better – he has some sort of man-brain that thinks I need a man to be man-safe in a man-world, and I’ll never know man-happiness alone.

I know all the shit my therapist says, and I know I need to be ok with being alone, so I don’t settle for a huge lump of shit in human form.But I am sometimes very afraid that I’m never gonna be loved.

She asked me to think about what I want in a man.So in no particular order, here we go:

Quietly confident (no brash alpha fuckery)Knows what he’s aboutTHERAPYSees who I am and digs itCommunicates clearly and honestlySticks to his fucking word / keeps promisesFUCKING THERAPYLikes touching me and stuffGreat at fuckingFeministSupports my career and has his own careerWorks on himself – self careIn decent shape – doesn’t have to be perfect, just not on death’s door ya knowDoesn’t need to steal my light to give himself joy or self-worthHas his own friends and interests and is supportive of my friends and interestsGOES TO THERAPY!!!!

Look honestly, a bunch of other stuff I can’t remember

Yeah he doesn’t exist.

And worse – I’m not this good – so I’m asking for more than I am.

At least I go to therapy.And while I might be fat and suffer from rheumatoid arthritis that sometimes puts me in a wheelchair from pain, I at least don’t look like I drown kittens on the weekend in my bathtub for fun, like this dude my mother set me up with does.Which – fair, ya know?It’s the only way he’s ever gonna see wet pussy.I know he has a kid and that means he must have seen some pussy.But I’m telling you that thing was dry as the fucking Sahara when it saw his sociopathic face.

Settle???Mother – do you want me to settle 6 foot fucking under?This is the man you want me to breed with?Thank fuck I’m getting old now, so she’s gotta be close to giving up on getting me knocked up.

And the conversation?Wow.He asked me what the most forbidden thing I had ever desired was.I didn’t know what to say so I just said a gangbang.Seemed like a good idea at the time, I don’t fucking know! I don’t really think about forbidden shit - I’m just trying to get ordinary everyday stuff like a man who’s a decent human being who actually loves me. Crazy I know.

His answer – human flesh.

Yep.

The most forbidden thing he had ever desired was to try eating human flesh.

What a fucking catch mum.Reel him in and mount him on the fucking wall.

I don’t even know where she met this guy.And she sends her first-born out into the night with this fucking psychopath.

Anyway, I made it back to my apartment alive and I am gonna eat crunchy peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon to congratulate myself for getting a story I can tell true crime podcasts in the future when this guy gets caught with 10 skeletons in his backyard – cos there won’t be any fucking flesh on any of them.

Tomorrow I am meeting the cast that are going to be bringing my book to life.Very cool!Much better than dating a serial killer – take note mother.

11/01

Hm.

Look I know I like reading people and understanding their motives and shit – it’s fun to study people. I think it makes me a better writer.

But I’m at a fucking loss.

I met the cast.

Most of the actors are pretty rad.

One of the actresses, Bethany, told me that I was very brave to wear a fitted dress.I know that kind of fuckery – she means I’m too fat for a fitted dress.I get it, but honestly, fat arses are popular at the moment so calm your flat titties Bethany, I’m sure everyone will cope seeing a fat bitch in a nice dress.I know I shouldn’t say shit about her appearance.But she fucking started it, and I am nothing if not petty.

And I know everyone is working towards body neutrality but fuck that - I wanna love my body. After so long hating it – I just want a bunch of love.I’m not afraid to admit that I want endless love of every kind!Unless I have to say it out loud to someone other than my therapist.Cos fuck that.People will think I’m desperate.Probs am to be fair.

Anyway.The real head scratcher was Etienne.If you know anything about theatre lately you know him – he’s huge right now.His mother is Tanzanian, his father French. He grew up in France, but he’s lived here for like, 20 years or something, building a huge theatre career.He just played Poseidon in Epic the musical – he was fucking amazing – I saw him on stage!His voice is spectacular.I remember the chills I got down my spine when he was singing the ‘get in the water’ song – he looked like he wanted to murder the dude that played Odysseus – I fucking believed him.Great actor.But this will be his first tv show, and of course he’s got the lead - Joseph.I’m excited to see what he can do with the character.

I might have been trying to keep my fangirl under control when I met him.I think I did ok. Not great, but ok.Especially since the conversation we had was kinda – I dunno - unexpected?Crazy?Unbelievable?A figment of my fucking imagination?!I’ma just write it down here because I need to just… think about this.

So there’s canapes and an open bar at this little shindig, and I’m at the bar after all the introductions and I’m just keeping to myself and letting the actors get to know each other.There’s none of the writers that are helping me turn the book into a tv series there, so I don’t really have anyone to talk to.But since I’m the author of the book, they wanted me there to meet the actors.It’s all good, I’m not expecting much of the night – I got to meet some great actors and managed to not fangirl in front of Etienne.Some wine, canapes and a quiet, unnoticed, early exit sounds great.

So I’m just there, minding my own fucking business and this guy has the fucking nerve to just saunter across the fucking room looking like every wet dream I’ve ever had.He’s so unbelievably handsome it’s unfair.I am too fucking old to have a pussy behaving like she’s a fucking teenaged virgin!Looking at Etienne is like partaking in the best foreplay you can imagine.I know I shouldn’t sexualize and objectify him like this.Fuck.Women have been telling men to quit that shit for decades.But at least I didn’t do it to his face. Or yell it out of a car at him.I’m not sure if I even managed to give him a welcoming smile when he approached.I think I was too busy wondering what the fuck he was doing walking up to me. I thought he had to be lost. I wondered if he wanted to ask me where the toilets were and honestly, I didn’t fucking know.But he just hits me with the sexiest smile I have ever seen.Can’t tell if it was a natural smile or he was putting it on cos he knows he’s hot.UghAnd he says, “I really love your work.”

HE REALLY LOVES MY WORK?

WHAT?

And what do I say?A writer?A wordsmith, if you will?A master of words?A person that crafts words into tales and makes a fucking living from it?

I said, “uh huh.”

UH HUH

???

His smile drops slightly and then he nods and says, “your first book really captured the immigrant experience perfectly. My mother thought it was brilliant. It’s because of her I started reading your books.”

Now most people haven’t read my first book – so this is fucking astonishing to me.That book is a very thoughtful, thought-provoking look at what it’s like to be an immigrant, and it’s a real conversation starter whenever I meet someone who’s actually read it.So naturally I begin an intelligent, well thought out, scintillating conversation with this fucking god of a man.

By saying, “yeah.”

What the actual fuck, Lou?You have had many conversations in your time.Some of them were actually interesting and intelligent.This is not a thing that is above you.

Somehow, he manages to continue the conversation, with a big smile he says, “and your second book redefined romance for me. I had never considered that I was being too generic in my wooing of women. It taught me to take more time and pay more individual attention to women.”

And I swear to fuck my brain just turned into a waterlogged noodle.I say – wait for this masterpiece of linguistic artistry - “Really?”

REALLY?

RRRRRREEEEEAAAALLLLLYYYYYY??????

Louisa – you dumb fucking cunt – get your fucking shit together bitch!I wanted to put my whole head down a fucking garbage disposal.

But he leaned closer and simply said, “I would love to take you to dinner.”

So of course my vagina turns into Cyndi Lauper and starts basically screaming at me about girls just wanting to have fucking fun.

But hold up my dear sweet pussy – there is no fucking way this man is interested in me sexually.He is interested in me as a writer.Ah finally my mashed potato brains are working again.So of course, I have the only reasonable reaction to this.

I laugh.

He pauses and cocks his head to the side and asks me what’s funny.HA!

Hahahahahahhaaa.

Oh fuck.

So do I have to admit to him that I actually thought for a moment that he might be interested in me in a sexual way?

Of course not.

And look – it’s not like I can’t pull dick. Of course I can.It’s a universal fact that if you have a hole there is someone that wants to play with it.It does not matter what you look like – dick is so easy to get.Literally a dime a dozen.Love is a whole lot harder to get – haven’t had that yet.But dick? – easier to get than the wrong order from Menulog.So it’s not like I think no man could ever want me – that’s demonstrably not fucking true.But this man is far above my fucking pay grade.He is quite literally the most attractive man I have ever seen.And he actually got better looking on closer inspection – which is rare.Most men are like impressionist paintings – better from a distance.When you get close to them, you can see they have no idea what moisturizer is.Or soap for some of them.But Etienne clearly has an excellent skin care routine.Damn.

And I don’t mind that this man is a beautiful stallion and I’m a fucking mule.It’s fine. Mules are fucking cute.I just know that he’s not looking to run with the mules.That thought is fucking hysterical.That’s what’s funny, mate.

So I say, “I am a writer, so I have an overactive imagination. But it’s fine, I had a talk with her and pulled her fucking head in.”

He gives a laugh. And his eyes meet mine.And I’m just trying not to drool like a fucking mastiff – what the fuck is wrong with me?

And his voice is low and intimate when he says, “what were you imagining?”

So now I’m thinking – do I be honest with this dude or nah?There’s nothing like honesty to really fuck up your day, so I decide to just throw that into the big ol’ shit smoothie fermenting in the blender of my social ineptitude.So I say “Look I’m 47 years old, I’m over playing around – so I put those imaginings to sleep, we’re all good. You don’t have to worry.”

And he instantly says “I’m not worried. What did you imagine?”

Fine fucko – you asked for it.

“I imagined that there was a little flirtation there.” I look him dead in the eye while I say this.

He backs up a little, a kinda concerned look on his face and goes, “hm.”And I’m thinking – that’s what I fucking thought, pal.

And then he leans back in and says, “I must be way off my game, because there was a lot more than just a little flirtation there.”

When I tell you that I suddenly became Clive Wearing and forgot how to breathe, think, fucking speak…I said “oh.”

Oh.

Fucking OH!

But he just leans in even closer, his eyes looking right into mine, his hand getting very close to touching mine and says, and trust me when I say that I remember this word for fucking word – “See, what I was imagining was that we’d go out on a date, and then another, and another.”He paused here and smiled.There was a fucking twinkle in his eye.A TWINKLE!But this motherfucker wasn’t done. Oh no no no!

“Around about 7 dates, until hopefully, I’ve done my job right, and we find ourselves back at my house.”And here he let his fingers gently touch mine ever so slightly.Listen… I don’t write romance novels. I write novels that sometimes have romance in them. But not books that focus on romance. But I honestly could have written a dozen pages about that fucking touch.

“Not because I intend to sleep with you, which I do, eventually.”Another fucking twinkling eye smile.At this point my pussy is having a fucking riot – that bitch was about to hold me at gunpoint if I didn’t drop my undies and let this man right on in.

“But because I also intend to cook for you. What am I going to cook for you? - I have 7 dates to find out.”And here he looked down at my mouth. It was only for a few moments, but it felt like he was studying my lips and assessing them in a fucking job interview before he looked back up into my eyes.

“I can’t just ask you what your favourite food is and cook that.”Now he’s shaking his head and looking down at his fingertips touching my fingers.

“No I need to create something you haven’t eaten before, something that you will love.”AND HE LOOKS UP INTO MY EYES AS HE SAYS THE WORD LOVE AND MY FUCKING CHEST DID A THING I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN.

Goddamnit.

“So I need to get to know what that might be, something to fill you up, but not too heavy, so that I can dance with you in the kitchen. Slow dance - I’ll have to find out what song is the right song. And hopefully, if I’ve wooed you well, when I put my lips to your ear to say…”

Yep.He put his fucking lips to my ear.That smooth fucking bastard.And his voice was so sexy and deep and sensual.Fuck.

“I don’t know what I’ll say yet. But I will figure out what it will be over the next 7 dates. And when you hear those words, you will shiver in delight, so that when I move my lips to be near yours, you will ache to kiss me.”

And then he looks in my eyes again.

“But that’s just what I was imagining.”And he smiled.That.Fucking.Smile.I’m angry at how good that smile is.

“Who knows what will actually happen?”And he looks at me like he’s clearly saying that it’s all up to me what actually happens.FuckFuck.FUCK.

I am completely spellbound.Obviously.So I say – “what happens on the 8th date, or the 9th and 10th?”

Quick as a peregrine falcon he just says, “well we’ll have to have 10 dates to find out.”

And what did I say?Did I question him further about this?Did I try to ascertain anything about his character?Did I ask what these dates would be?Did I stop to think for even a nanosecond?

Of course not. That would be survivor in a horror movie behaviour.

I just said, “ok”

Fuck.

I agreed to go on 10 dates with Etienne Dumas.

FUCK.

And then I gave him my phone number.

15/01

My therapist made a lot of the fact that I spoke a shit-ton about Bethany and then left talking about Etienne till the very end of our session.

Etienne has tried three times to set up a dinner date, but I have been busy every time he has put forward.

Emily thinks that I’m avoiding Etienne and the whole thing.And then she fucking reminded me that one of my goals for this year was to try and find a loving relationship – and she actually asked me why I was actively avoiding an opportunity to start on one of my goals.As if I’m not dating.Bitch I’m dating!

And she asked me this with a straight fucking face – as if she genuinely believed that Etienne Dumas was into slumming it for a living. He probably just wants to pick my brain as the writer of the series.He’s probably just flattering me, so I’ll write a bigger part for him.Whatever.

And fucking hell – I’m not gonna rearrange my life for a man.Plans are plans.I’m a busy cunt!I’m only free on the 21st this month and he hasn’t asked about that day so he’s fresh outta luck, I guess.

16/01

Well fuck.

17/01

But what kind of person literally goes through every fucking day on the calendar to find a day you’re free?

Fuck.

18/01

Why the fuck did I tell him I was free?

19/01

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AM I GOING TO TALK TO ETIENNE DUMAS ABOUT?

20/01

It’s fine.I don’t care.

Like, the dude is just a dude.

He’s not that fucking impressive.

Talented – yes.Attractive – sure.

But I’ve had conversations with plenty of talented attractive people.

I’ve also fucked plenty of talented attractive people.

Most of my friends are talented attractive people.All of my close ones certainly are!

I am literally surrounded by talented attractive people.

Etienne Dumas is one in a huge fucking pile of talented attractive people that are a normal part of my everyday sphere.

Oh fuck

21/01

Well I’ma try to write down everything that happened tonight. But fuck me…

Here we go.

I managed to not blow a gasket getting dressed.But it was a near fucking thing, and literally every item of clothing I own lives on my bed now, cos fucked if I can be fucked hanging them all back up.

And then I wondered if I should have a pre-game rub-out to calm the nerves, ya know?It’s not like I’m gonna end up making a fucking Hokusai wave in my hair ‘there’s something about Mary’ style – it’s a relatively risk free endeavour for a bitch to undertake.

That’s what you’d fucking think!

Like the world’s biggest fuckwit idiot, I put on my favourite porn – Bonnie and Alex.Who the fuck else would I watch to fuck myself?More like fuck myself up with the help of my fucking vibrator…The way they kiss and touch and look at each other – they’re so fucking intimate, it fucking kills me.God I want that.They’re so in love.Oh god it turns me on so fucking much.Ugh.UGH!

So like the world’s worst written comedy in the entirety of all of fucking history – I’m deep into vibing the bean, feeling pretty good about everything, thoroughly enjoying myself, getting close to a truly magnificent orgasm, when the fucking batteries die.

Not a problem Lou, just go to your drawer and grab some more and continue on your merry, orgasmic, way.

HA!That would imply that I have any kind of organisation and planning and common decency!

Do you think I could find just one fucking AAA battery in my whole fucking apartment?

Not only are all of my clothes out of my wardrobe, but almost all of the contents of all of my drawers are now also out of my drawers.My apartment looks like I had the world’s most thorough robber come through searching everything for the secret to immortality amongst my shit.Nothing I own lives in a cupboard or drawer anymore.That’s fine, I can just lock myself in the fucking cupboard because I just basically edged myself before going on a date with the single most attractive man in existence.

I have spoiled my clit and allowed my hand muscles to grow weak over the eons since I last had to manually get the job done.Vibrators have made me weak.WEAK!There is no way I’m rubbing this one out manually – panicked about time and freaking out about Etienne.

So rather than taking the edge off, I have simply greatly increased my horn into catastrophic levels of desperate need.Cool.

At least the dress is cute.But honestly, when I look in the mirror, even I can see the need to fuck in my eyes.

Fucking hell.I’m wetter than the Mariana Trench.He’s gonna be able to smell my pussy because there is so much moisture down there, I could literally cause it to rain across the whole fucking country if I spread my legs.I’m too old for this!Isn’t my pussy supposed to be some dusty old attic at this point?Doesn’t age make a pussy get less wet?What the actual fuck is going on in my underpants?

Oh and of course he was on time.Of course he was.Because OF COURSE HE FUCKING WAS!

Fitted button up shirt – rolled up sleaves. The man is trying to kill me.Perfectly fitted pants. Look – arrest me – I know – but I did look to see if I could see a dick-print. It wasn’t the right material for it, but I still wanted to see.Honestly- it looks like he’s got a decent package to work with.

Godfuckingdamint

Could he not have a tiny dick just to make him less perfect?I mean, I guess he might have – the material of his pants was not particularly forthcoming with the contents of his groin region.Stupid pants.But from what I could see-Look, honestly, why am I torturing myself like this?Why did the me of a few hours ago, sneak a peek at the lumpy devil’s triangle?Because I’m a thirsty bitch who edged herself before a date with a fucking god!

I had to physically stop myself from biting my bottom lip in desire when I opened the door to him.And no – I do not mean the door to my mess of an apartment. I mean the door to my apartment block.Get fucked – there’s no way I’m letting him see my apartment!

Honestly I think I did well not climbing him like a tree the moment I saw him.Or dry humping him like one of those horny little dogs.

But what I did instead was apparently part of my re-branding campaign – cos I seem to no longer be capable of coherent thought and conversation.I just stared at him.I must have made him so uncomfortable.But he just fucking smiled.

I think I need to have a little sit-down with Etienne and talk to him about that fucking smile.Cos it does me in every time.Every fucking time.It should come with a fucking warning – ‘may cause a drowning hazard in your underpants.’Apparently it’s fucking monsoon season – buckle up and put out a weather warning for the CBD – the rain is getting heavier.You know that scene in ‘The Shining’ where the elevator doors open and the blood comes out - yeah that but with…You know what, I’m not gonna finish that sentence.

He says hello and tells me he likes my dress.Good start.I nearly tell him ‘I like you’ but manage to say, ‘your shirt.’Smooth.He looked pleased that I liked his shirt, like he actually gave a shit what I thought about what he wore.Which was kinda charming.

I know shit about cars – but his is metallic purple and rad as hell.And he seems to like it.I think he knows about cars.Eh. He had to have one stereotypical man thing, I guess.And it’s not a bad thing to know about.I just hope he’s not one of those dudes that is so in love with his car he would prefer to be tail-piping it than fucking a woman, ya know?He drives stick.Very commandingly.I kept watching his hand on the gearstick.

So I made myself try and think clearly.Tried to have a little girl chat with myself.Real talk here Louisa – keep your head screwed on bitch.He is very pretty, yes.And very charming, and very nice.And he handles that stick so very well.I don’t even know how to drive stick, but damn he looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing.Why is this so impressive?LOUISA!There is absolutely no chance that a man in a career that is so in the public eye will date a woman older than him, and also fatter than him.He is not fat at all.He is very clearly a man who spends time in the gym every single day.And watches what he eats.I only watch what I eat long enough to see it disappear into my mouth.But I do go to the gym.And I run most mornings.I’m not completely useless when it comes to looking after myself.But donuts are tasty, and abs aren’t worth missing out on donuts.Etienne Dumas clearly misses out on donuts though.Or has very lucky genetics.Probably a bit of both.With hair like his, he clearly has lucky genetics.No sign of thinning there.

Look – I may have had to firmly tell myself to stop staring at him while he was driving.Many more times than once.

Yeah, I had to have a firm talk with myself many, many times while he drove me wherever he was driving me.

It has just occurred to me that he could have literally been a serial killer, driving me to the nearest national park to kill and cut me up and fuck my dismembered knee joint and bury me, never to be seen again. And I would have just happily watched him work.Is this how pretty privilege works?It turns the rest of us into fools so the hotties can get away with everything?

And here I am like the biggest fool of them all diving head first off a fucking cliff.

He asked me if I wanted to choose a radio station or play my own music off my phone.I chose a radio station. Just one that played indie music.I’m not ready for the intimacy of sharing my fucking playlists pal.Good try though – cos I can definitely tell a lot about a person from their music tastes.Show me yours and I might show you mine.That radio station played some fucking bangers though. I think he liked a couple of the good’uns. Maybe he has decent music taste?

So there’s a little traffic, and we start talking a little and he tells me that he enjoys the script he’s been allowed to read so far.Ah there it is.Ok.So at least I know now why I’m here on a date with him.I had suspected – of course I had. I’m not a complete idiot.I mean, I’m about 99% idiot, but that last 1% is pretty fucking clued in.He seems pretty smart; he’ll take his time asking for script changes.I’ll enjoy a good meal or two and then gently decline his desired influence over my work.Easy enough.And honestly, it was kind of a relief. The pressure was suddenly well and truly off.It suddenly became easier to think.His smile was still devastating, but I’m a tough bitch, I can handle it.

We talked a little bit about the book and his impressions of Joseph, and I can tell he’s a little nervous here.Kinda cute, not gonna lie.But he is talking to the writer, the creator of that character, so I’m not surprised that he is a bit cautious in giving his thoughts. Also – his career is kinda in my hands. I can write Jospeh to be a smaller part, or bigger – the whole series has not been finalised yet.And I don’t have to keep Joseph as the lead male if I don’t wanna.I fucking revelled in that tiny bit of power!Sucks to be you, pretty boy!But I’m not gonna change a thing about the script for you or anybody. I know exactly where the TV series is going and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it!It’s nice that beauty can’t get you everything in this world.Almost.It could definitely get him me.But not a script change.I have some fucking morals and ethics and all that shit.

AnyhowHe decided to take me to a fucking Michelin rated restaurant.So we’re getting posh here.I don’t think he realises what a povo bitch I was growing up.Actually, I’ve been poor my whole life until that third book.It’s been nice having a little money for once.Even so, I’m still not bougie enough for that fucking place.

Anyway, it was interesting going into that joint.I did not feel like I belonged there.

And Etienne walks into the place looking like a fucking model of course.Fucking actors.So confident and good looking.I mean to be fair, not all of them are.But he is.And there’s me, looking like a fucking bulldog, lumping along beside him.And there’s some dude just waiting at the front of the restaurant to greet guests and show them to their seats and all that jazz.And he just speaks French with Etienne.Etienne speaks French.BECAUSE OF COURSE HE FUCKING DOES!This man was custom built to be a wet-spot maker.How dare he?How fucking dare he speak French so fluently and sexily?And worse – he looks at me and quickly turns the conversation to English so that I can understand.How dare he be so thoughtful and respectful?Arsehole.

Anyway - this guy’s name is Pete. He’s not actually French, he just speaks the language.They’re friends.They’re doing a charity run in a few months’ time to help kids with cancer.Because of course they are.Because of course Etienne is fucking charitable.Fuck that guy.

Oh but we’re not fucking done.The chef comes out of the kitchen to greet him warmly – hugs and all.