I didn’t know where to look. It’d been years since I’d come this close to a half-naked man and having a stranger’s crotch in front of me was making me very, very uncomfortable.
‘Erm.’ I jumped up, removing his hat and dropping it on the table, narrowly missing a creamy pastry. ‘Thanks so much for the gifts, ladies… and for all of this,’ I gestured between his legs, ‘but I’m… I’m going to head home.’
‘But he hasn’t even got his cock out yet!’ Marjorie gasped.
‘I’m…’ I said to the policeman. ‘Sorry. It’s not a reflection on you. I’m sure you have a very lovely, er, cock.’ I winced. ‘But… I have to go. Bye!’
I sprinted out of the conservatory, through the front door then raced into the safety of my own home.
What the hell was that?
When Juliette said she’d arranged somesurprisesto help get me back into the dating game, I wasn’t expecting to be ambushed by a stripper.
I preferred to get to at least know a man’s name before having histruncheonin my face. There had to be other less abrasive ways to ease myself back into dating again.
Maybe like the Love Hotel place they mentioned.
Although Marjorie and Juliette had made it sound like some sort of hook-up hotel, Cordelia, who was the more level-headed one of the group, said it was a reputable place.
Time to find out for myself.
After pulling out the envelope they’d given me earlier, I headed to the sofa, took out my phone, then typed in the hotel’s web address into my browser.
Whoa.
This place was next-level luxury. With its grand stone exterior and doormen dressed in fancy branded uniforms, it looked like somewhere celebrities stayed. Not people like me.
And Cordelia was right. This place looked legit. It was very high-end and it seemed like they focused on helping people find meaningful long-term relationships, not hook-ups.
That sounded much more like what I was looking for. Companionship.
Happy couple after happy couple flashed up on the home page. I clicked on the case studies, telling myself I’d only have a quick look. But two hours later I’d read dozens of stories about people of all ages and backgrounds who’d given up hope of finding love, but had gone to the hotel and left with their soulmate.
There was a woman in her forties who’d never had a proper serious relationship, but went there and found her Mr Right. And she wasn’t alone. There were countless success stories.
Although they couldn’tallbe fake, it sounded too good to be true.
As much as I’d love to skip the whole awkward online dating crap, I was struggling to believe that they’d miraculously find me a match, then I’d get whisked off to Paris to meet my Prince Charming.
That was the kind of stuff other people experienced.
Something like that could never happen to me though, right?
2
GABRIEL
‘How much did you pay for this apartment?’ Nico, my friend and mentor, asked as he walked around the spacious, freshly decorated living room.
‘Three million euros,’ I said, still not quite believing that I was able to afford a place like this in Paris.
‘Blimey!’ Cassie, Nico’s English wife, gasped. ‘That’s steep.’
‘Gabriel is paying for the views,’ Nico explained, running his hand through his perfectly cut dark hair. ‘Can you see the Eiffel Tower from the balcony?’
‘Oui,’ I nodded. ‘Let me show you.’
I opened the large double doors and they both stepped outside.
