Hello. My name is Cassius Daniels and I’m going to tell you my version of our story.

After a somewhat tense conference call in my lawyer’s office in Chelsea, we really needed a drink and a big meal to soothe the loss of a million pounds from a dodgy deal. Still upset by the loss, we were awaiting the lift when I first heard that infectious laugh: it was the first smile we had that day. What a peculiar laugh! Before falling in love with Velvet, I fell in love with that laugh – it cheered us up! And before the lift door opened, I wondered what sort of woman owned such a laugh.

Alistair and I glanced at each other in amusement, saluting Stephanie who had been trying for years to get us into her rather exclusive dating agency. This beautiful brown girl was still giggling politely. I took a quick look. She oozed finesse – her clothes, her perfume, and the shy giggling. On first glance, I liked her; by the second one I was in love with her. Her dark, mid-length, wavy hair; brown, intense almond eyes; full lips; dark golden skin; slim body; athletic legs; graceful poise. Evidently, a lady. I stared. I wanted her to look at me back; she knew I was looking, but for some reason she didn’t look back. I concluded she must be shy.

We arrived on the ground floor. Only then did she finally look at me! I gave her my biggest smile, thinking she would ask for my number… But she didn’t. She just smiled back and ran off towards her car, stabbing me in the heart.

Well, I simply had to call Stephanie that afternoon to get her phone number. I wanted that girl – and nobody would prevent me from having her. Plus, I could be pretty sure she was single, as she’d probably just joined Celest Connections.

The Calls

“Stephanie, Cassius Daniels here.”

“Oh, hi Cassius! How are you? Have you finally decided to join Celest Connections?” she said enthusiastically.

“I want that girl who was in the lift with you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The lady you were with this afternoon in the lift, Stephanie. The giggler. I want her…”

“Valérie?”

“Well, yes. I want a date with Valérie.”

“But Cassius, you don’t know her… She might not be compatible…”

“I want to get to know her. This is the entire point of a date, isn’t it?”

“Well, Cassius… She didn’t even look at you in the lift and she didn’t mention you over lunch. When Valérie likes someone, she… Well, I don’t think, she will…”

“Arrange that date tonight and I’ll join your club. You’ll have all the merit of this successful relationship. Tonight. Zuma. 7pm. Thanks a million, Stephanie. You’re a star – quite the best matchmaker I have ever met. Goodbye.”

Stephanie called me a few minutes later with the bad news.

“Valérie doesn’t want to meet you, Cassius. I am so sorry. I really tried. She was really aghast by…”

“Give me her number.”

“I can’t do that, I am afraid. What if—”

“Stephanie,” I interrupted her. “You’re losing a client who’s ready to sign right now for a date with Valérie. What a shame! I would have taken your highest level of membership…”

‘For God’s sake,’ I thought, ‘I hope she won’t make me beg…’

I continued. “So her name is Valérie, and her number is 07… Stephanie? Are you still there?”

“I can’t give you her family name. She will kill me, Cassius. This is against our—”

“07…? You know, Stephanie that this girl is for me! Now, don’t be a bore… We’re going to be your star couple. Can you imagine? We’ll laugh at this in a couple of years.”

“You haven’t done the questionnaire, Cassius. Neither did Valérie.”

“Really? That’s even better. I’ll pay for both memberships in that case. So her number is…”

“OK, OK. As neither of you are on our books yet I guess I’m not in breach of anything here. Her number is 07XXXXXX. Oh my… She’ll kill me… Good luck getting that date! She’s stubborn.”

‘Watch me!’ was my thought, but I replied: “She will love this! Thank you, Stephanie. You’re an angel!”

“I know… Again, good luck!”

I called Valérie.

“Allo?” she said in a very French sexy voice.

“Hello, Valérie. Shall we have that drink tonight?”

“Who’s this?” she asked, amused.

“Your Celest Connections date! Sorry, Stephanie’s just given me your number, telling me that you couldn’t wait to hear from me,” I said to embarrass her.

“Well, I am a bit tired as I—”I could tell she wasn’t prepared so I jumped in, “Great! I'll see you tonight at Zuma. 7pm. Don't be late.” I didn’t give her time to add anything else. I hung up. God, I hoped she’d come. She was surely too polite to stand me up. She wouldn’t do that. Would she…?

The Blind Date

I must be honest; I feared she wouldn’t show until I actually saw her. I really tried my best not to betray how happy I was to see her. Valérie was late – but I was just glad she’d come.

I waved at her but decided to go over properly and welcome her. At first, it seemed she didn’t recognise me… After all, she looked at me for barely a nanosecond, so I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Valérie was magnificent in her warm orange Alexander McQueen dress. Hypnotised by her beauty, I could only say, “You’re late,” which I regretted as soon as I heard my own voice.

How idiotic was that? Thank God, it seemed she didn’t hear or understood. What I had meant to say was, “You’re beautiful…” but it stuck in my throat as her deep brown eyes absorbed all my self-confidence. I could merely add, “Would you follow me?”

I acted so strangely I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d disappeared with someone else behind my back. I needed to regain my composure. I quickly turned around and she was still there smiling. Her smile comforted me.

I pulled out her chair and she sat with perfect posture, radiating that elegance only the French can exude. I finally managed to pull myself together and asked what she wanted to drink.

I ordered the drinks and our date began. Her eyes were making love to me. I felt drawn by her. I felt like I’d known her forever and we were just catching up.

I wanted her so badly it was painful. But I had to be patient with her and go slowly.

After our date, I put her in a taxi and ignored her plea to kiss. I resolved that, for a month, I would ignore her demands to sex up her brain. I wanted to connect with her at the deepest level – knowing all her fears, her hopes, her secrets – before teaching her meaningful and mind-shattering sex. She would become addicted to me. Then I would marry her in Paris – or wherever she likes. I knew that evening she would be mine forever. I couldn’t wait to explore her.

The Ivy

Valérie occupied my mind all week, and I was still mesmerised a week later by her words, her attitude, and her smell.

I chose for us to dine at the Ivy. I thought it would be Valérie’s style: chic, romantic but quintessentially British – with a French touch of foie gras.

She arrived right on time; I was waiting for her with a bottle of the restaurant’s best champagne. I kissed her on the cheek and was on the best gentleman’s behaviour I thought she deserved.

Valérie was drop-dead gorgeous. I was hoping she didn’t see Mini Me reacting to that cleavage I stared at a second too long. I asked her how her week had been and a few questions about her. As she spoke, I admired her: so beautiful and happy. Confident and stylish, yet she had something innocent and childish about her – like she had never had her heart broken, like she wasn’t damaged in some way, like she had never had any problem in her life.

As she spoke, I stared at her lips and the way they moved. I was thinking of kissing and licking them and how they’d look fantastic on my … No! I had to concentrate. My penis was hurting; balls were aching… I’m ashamed to admit now that I really wasn’t listening as some seriously graphic scenes had invaded my brain…

The only way I found to get away from this annoyance before Valérie noticed was to talk about myself and stop looking at that cleavage: my career, culture, history and geopolitics, and how my trips helped me to understand more of the world and its people. Believe it or not, Mini Me and my eyes didn’t care. God, it hurt so bad… I poured more and more champagne into my own glass as Valérie was annoyingly drinking slowly. Calm down, stupid penis!

Then, the urge! The restroom! I couldn’t go… I wish I could quickly check if Valérie would notice the hard-on, but I knew she’d follow my eyes. And bang! I hit that bottle of red wine, spilling its contents on her expensive bodycon dress. Now it went soft…

The waiter came immediately to help us out, bringing all his equipment to try to make the stain disappear. No way! That stain liked Valérie as much as I did. Stuck! What an idiot I was. I looked at her, mortified. She put some cash on the table and left without looking back. I’d screwed up! I ran after her. I liked that girl – I couldn’t let her go. And I begged her to stay. I was begging a woman for the first time in my life.

And she crushed me when she said, as if I were nothing, “Listen. This is fine. I'm tired and I should go home.” I knew she meant: “You annoyed me all evening, you stupid pervert. I don’t want to see you again. I am gone forever. I won’t be taking your call even in another life.”

I couldn’t believe I’d screwed this date up! I knew Valérie was for me. I had no doubt about it whatsoever. It was just a little misunderstanding and a bad date. I didn’t know what to say now. I surely couldn’t tell the truth. I only managed to say, “I can’t let you pay for the dry cleaning. Please – at least let me take care of the dress.”

But matters got worse. She wanted to get naked in the middle of the street and asked me to unzip her dress so I could get it. I suddenly felt mega stupid and could only squeak out a puzzled,

“Excuse me?” Why did I say that?

She responded, “Yes! You want to bring it to the dry cleaner. Take it now! I’ll go home in lingerie. Or is it just your way to get to mine tonight?”

I was all out of responses. This woman was truly special. I had never been in this situation before and Mini Me put me in this predicament. I blushed. And that was that. She was gone. And it hurt.

Once home, I decided to give Valérie a call. I had nothing to lose. I was hoping from the bottom of my heart that she would pick up. Our story wasn’t meant to end like this.

Valérie picked up and asked if I was OK. I translated it in my mind as: “Is your penis feeling better? Did you have a wank?” I blushed and decided to approach the situation head-on. “I am not OK. I’m sorry. This evening was a catastrophe.” She didn’t respond. I didn’t care and asked for another date. I could hear her smiling over the phone. This was cute.

I’m not sure I remember what I said next but she reassured me by saying, “You didn't need to impress me, Cassius.” And so we arranged our next date. I was over the moon.

The Roof Garden

On our first date, I’d listened attentively to what Valérie said and how she said it. I think I’d asked the right questions, enough to know that she would like this gig called “A Night of Amy”. It was an evening of classic songs from Amy Winehouse performed by a full live band.

This time, I was happy to see that she’d opted for a Dolce and Gabbana T-shirt, a pair of jeans and Converses. No Mini Me reaction. She looked amazing though. What is it with the French? Even with the simplest clothes, they look like a million dollars.

I wanted her to comprehend that I liked her and wanted more than just dates. So, I held her tiny waist, kissing her neck, her ears, her cheeks. This time, I didn’t care if my penis reacted; I wanted to make things clear: I like you and I want you, but I want things to go slowly.

We left around 10pm, took a cab to head to Balans for a late dinner. We’d both liked the concert and I was proud of my choice of a date. I wanted to make the evening even more romantic so I stopped the cab in Piccadilly. We ran towards a pedicab, I lifted her up, and we romantically set off towards Balans.

I had never felt more alive in my life. This lady was a firecracker! She made me laugh, made me question my life, and I am sure she could make me cry. She was a ball of energy, able to move mountains and melt the Arctic. She had no idea how wonderful she was. I really wondered how it was that she was still single.

I couldn’t help but ask about her relationship history. I was surprised – but happy – to learn she was a divorcée, but I knew she would be a keeper. A wedding in Vegas? Does that even really count? And we had so much in common: I didn’t know why Stephanie was reluctant to introduce her to me. Dinner over, I called a cab for her and kissed her on the cheek.

Date No.4

I liked this relationship. Date four took us more a few weeks to organise. We decided to meet in Washington, as were both Stateside. Valérie wanted to try the Blue Duck Tavern, so her wish was my command.

When she arrived, I was waiting for her in the hallway. My heart nearly jumped out of my body when she jumped on me like a kid. So much love… I could tell she was happy to see me. I kissed her and admitted, “I missed you, Miss Congo.” She smiled and we walked to the chef’s table.

I enjoyed this date overseas. We both had so much to say to each other. I had 30-something years of her life to catch up on… What I remember most about that night was that she excused herself to go to the bathroom and was gone for more than 20 minutes. When she came back, she looked so unwell and pale that I couldn’t help but sense her fever. She was burning hot and, despite her saying she was OK, I sent her back to her hotel.

That was when I realised what Stephanie meant when she’d said Valérie was stubborn. I had to order her to go back to her room.

“No, you’re not well. Let’s get the car for you. We’ll catch up in London. You have an early flight tomorrow anyway.” She insisted, but I didn’t care. Yet, I wanted to spend more time with her so I asked my driver to drop her. In the car, I took her face and put it on my lap (without any improper thoughts, you perverted reader!), caressing her hair, her lips, and her face. She looked so cute and innocent.

When we reached her hotel, I asked at reception for some tablets for a potential cold and I kissed her goodnight. I was already missing her.

The Real Kiss

Back in London, at our local: Aubaine, South Kensington.

When Valérie questioned me about my sexuality, I knew I needed to make a move. I’ll French kiss her. I’ll show her I like her. It was about time. She’ll never forget that first kiss.

After our brunch, we went bowling in All Star Lanes in Bayswater. We played against another couple and we won chiefly because I’d met a mega-competitive woman who hates to lose. We celebrated the win with a drink nearby, after which we started walking towards Chelsea.

I walked her home and, in front of her imposing building, I caressed her back. I took her head between my hands and I kissed her, my tongue deep into her mouth. A real French kiss! My penis reacted to it with the most painful hard-on I’ve ever had in my life. Before it got too obvious I said, “It’s getting late, Princess. I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

I wanted her. I wanted her right then. But I would make her wait just a little bit longer.

Her sexy lips obsessed me: soft, full, and sweet. I was aroused just by the thought of them and I couldn’t wait to kiss her again. And this time, I would make love to her. She’d never have experienced such depth and intensity. She would beg me for more and I would be more than happy to give her more. That would be in London, at my place, where I would be able to smell her on my sheets for hours after she left. For now, I would have to put my penis between my legs and meet her in New York.

A Date in New York

I picked Valérie up at JFK. When I saw her face, she wore that welcoming smile that fills my heart with love.

I kissed her tenderly and held her hands as we walked to my car, ready to set out for the Standard hotel. We kissed passionately all the way there. When we arrived in my suite, I let her get ready while I went for a drink at the bar.

When I was back in the room, she was ready. This once very childish, candid face transformed into an elegant and poised lady. The type of woman I’d always dreamed about – a one-in-a-million I never thought I could obtain. I felt so blessed.

Over a few drinks at Le Bain, we learned more about each other’s souls, talking about our families, friends, frenemies, careers, and a future for us. This lady was amazing; I wondered how she always said the right thing to me. She surely knew how to please a man: all her compliments filled my body with courage. I wanted to please her: she’s the sort of woman you want to please. You want her approval, your want to move mountains for her. Finally, I was dating at another level.

Valérie and I headed for the Jean-Georges for a romantic meal. I couldn’t wait to give Valérie her first present. We had been dating for three months and it had been amazing, so I was very happy to hand over that beautiful necklace from Tiffany’s. I wasn’t trying to buy her love but when she first declined the gift, it broke my heart to the core. It was just a way to celebrate our first months together. And for an amazing person, I had bought an amazing gift. Her support, her love, her company were priceless. When she finally accepted, I felt like the proudest and wealthiest man on earth. We were a team.

After dinner, we decided to go back to the hotel. We had a few drinks again and retired to our suite at around 2am. Valérie showered first and headed to bed before I joined her. I felt like I’d known the woman for ages and I could read her all over. She wanted me so bad. ‘You’ll have to wait,’ I said in my mind. I lay in the bed beside her, and took her slim body in my arms, kissing her neck, her back, and her ears passionately. The temperature in the room instantly rose at least 10 degrees. Yet I whispered, “There’s plenty of time for this. Let’s not rush it. I want the moment to be very special for both of us.”

She fell asleep and I did a couple of minutes later.

Date No.6: Dining in

Back in London, I was in love and invited Valérie over for dinner. I suspected she’d jump me if I didn’t have sex with that night. Since day one, her eyes had been begging either for a kiss or for my penis. I have to admit, I never stopped anticipating that night – how I would kiss her, undress her, and how she would growl at the feeling of me inside her.

When Valérie arrived, she looked absolutely divine – a short, fitted red dress, displaying a cleavage imploring for sex.

After staring at her for a few seconds, I managed to say, “Welcome to the most beautiful lady I ever met. I so glad you’re here.” I kissed her my thanks for her gift and I chemically reacted to her sexy, soft and wet lips. She’d already won: I was boiling with excitement and my eyes were caressing her cleavage throughout our diner. I so badly wanted to skip the romance but I had to make that night an amazing one for her – not simply another night of sex with a new boyfriend.

Let’s bring Paris to London.

After a glass of champagne and two bottles of wine, Valérie and I started dancing. I caressed her face, her neck, her perky breasts. This woman had the softest skin I had ever touched. She was like a piece of velvet. She’d be my Velvet from now on.

Velvet smiled and added, “Thank you, Cassius. I sincerely like all this. I am really grateful for all the experiences and feelings this relationship has procured in me. I genuinely appreciate the way you treat me and respect me, and the feelings I have now. I haven’t felt this way for a very long time. I like you for this. I am loving all this too much, you have no idea.”

I was so glad. After an intense stare at each other, Velvet finally murmured, “I want you, Cassius. I want the whole of you, right now…”

Her words resonated within me, shaking up my whole body. We made love all night. It was so good it hurt. Velvet cried and I caressed and kissed her tears. We cried because I surrendered to her. We were in love. That night was a night of pure love…

… And the best sex I ever had: intense, powerful, fusional. We had found the most intense chemistry… That night, I knew I’d marry this gorgeous creature, keep her for the rest of my life and make her the happiest woman on earth.

The Untimely Break-Up

I decided to spend more time in London. We needed to create our bubble, our circle; fine-tune our team. I didn’t want to have Velvet slip through my hands because she had met a more available man than me.

That Wednesday was a beautiful day. It started with a quick call to Velvet, which put a smile on my face until I bumped into her and that guy on my way out of Cecconi’s restaurant in Mayfair.

When I reached Velvet’s table, I could read that she wasn’t comfortable. I forced the introductions just because I realised she didn’t want to introduce me to her friend. At least, that’s what I though he was at first…

When she explained that the guy was her future ex, I was jealous. He was hot, fit, dark, and obviously successful. I didn’t like how he looked down on me, so I told her off. I wanted her to feel as much pain as I was feeling that day, if not more. Yes, I was harsh and selfish. I demanded she break up with him immediately. She did. Since then, I knew she cared for me more than anyone else.

The Magic

Valérie and I were both travelling around the globe; we were now in a relationship and shared some magical moments together.

Often we were talked to each other until the sun came up; we couldn’t stop talking and always had something to talk about.

I remembered when we exchanged our keys. At first it was by convenience, but it became so much more than that. It was a romantic routine. When she wasn’t in London, I would stay at hers: smelling her clothes, feeling her presence at her flat, and laying in her sheets… I got to know her better, too, through her perfumes, her books, and her music.

The Misunderstanding

Weeks apart without seeing each other or talking like we usually did, was a challenge. I hated Valérie’s time in Paris. I was missing her like crazy and realised she had become a big part of my life. She wasn’t just my girlfriend but also my best friend. She managed so well without talking to me for two weeks that my dependence on her started to worry me. She was not as adamant to see me after her trip as I was. So, I started questioning her feelings for me. What did she want? I wasn’t even sure she loved me, as she’d never said the words.

As soon as I knew she reached English soil with the Eurostar, I called her. I needed to hear her voice. I knew her well enough to know if something was wrong. She sounded well but when she rejected my offer to pick her up, I was hurt. But I didn’t care. I had to see her. I wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice, and define where we were going together.

At St Pancras station, I was relieved: Valérie jumped on me and I was filled with so much love, I wondered why I’d questioned anything. We kissed passionately before heading for mine where I lit up the place romantically.

She took a bath alone and we had dinner. I was a little disappointed as I thought these weeks apart would have made her realised that she loved me. But… Nothing. She was just happy to see me. We made love that night, but I decided to stop being her lover and start becoming her boyfriend. And make things clear.

I didn’t sleep well that night. In truth, I didn’t sleep at all. I watched Valérie sleeping. She was so serene. I decided to leave the bed at around 5am, and went to the gym to calm the fire in me. I wanted to wake her up and talk. I wanted to know: did she love me or not?

When Valérie reached the kitchen, I questioned her almost immediately. Her responses made my heart bleed. I was anxious, nervous, and when she refused to live with me – and more so refused to introduce me to her family, pretending that we were not serious – I lost my mind. I went ballistic. What was I for her? Another experience? She had to move in or move out of my life. I had to give her that ultimatum. I can’t entirely recall what was said that morning but we were certainly mean to each other.

What had I done for her to think I wasn’t serious about us? I thought I’d made myself clear from the beginning and I thought she knew this. And it hurt to the fullest when she admitted being forced into the relationship, which I’d always thought she wanted as much as me. Am I a pusher?

But Valérie just walked away. She stopped communicating and this really pissed me off. I tried to reason with her but she just walked away, challenging me by the eye and banging the door, yelling, “Voilà, I am gone!”

My heart was a mess and my feelings were confused. Were we done? Really? She’d come back, I told myself. I’m sure she will…

The Dark Side of my Life

When Valérie broke up with me, I went into social hibernation. How was I supposed to function with daily reminders of her all over London? Everybody was asking after her, even during business functions.

My lifestyle: get as far as I could from London. And NYC. And Washington. And Miami… Well, every place and hotel I’d been out with her, really. I went into exile in Switzerland: I couldn’t get more neutral than that.

But after a few weeks, I became aggressive, resentful and jealous of all the romance going on around me. I wasn’t myself anymore. I decided it was therefore time to call Valérie and talk. Once, twice, three times, four times: no response. I tried and retried, but I never managed to get through.

I was evil with everyone. I had no soul left. I was working 24/7, I was sleeping at the office, my beard had grown. I have never worked that hard in my life; I have never drunken that much in my life; I have never smoked (not cigarettes…) that much in my life. I fell into my own trick, drowning in my own emotions, suffocating myself with my resentment. I lost all touch with time and reality.

Months later, I decided to go back to London for a serious talk with Valérie. I was ready to push her again, whatever she said. I prepared the right words to say. I knew exactly which day was perfect to stumble upon her – Sunday morning, hoping she wasn’t on holiday.

That Sunday, I was nervous. A billion questions came into my mind. I kept changing what I was going to say. Should I use my keys? What if she really didn’t love me? What if she was with a man in her room? What should I say? What if they were having sex? I had to stop thinking. I needed a glass of strong Scotch to gird my loins! I was in hell. After two hours of hesitation, I finally decided to go over to her place. The weather was amazing, the birds were singing: this was going to be an amazing day! Valérie would come back to me. She was mine. And I was ready to be forceful again…

When I reached her building, I didn’t need to use my keys as a man ran into me at the entrance, hurrying to his car. Striding upstairs, I reached Valérie’s door. I knocked, and she opened, smiling and talking half-French. I didn’t get what she meant and stupidly said, “Is this your new greeting?” She froze. I knew she didn’t find it funny.

I broke this uncomfortable silence. “Can we talk?” She nodded but still wasn’t moving, so I added, “Inside?”

She opened the door, checking her own flat as if she wanted to hide something.

“How are you?” I asked.

“OK, you?”

“Not well and I am sorry.” I almost begged. That wasn’t the tone I had hoped to convey.