Now, I had never met Ms. Du Bois, and yet she wrote as though we were old friends. In fact, as I read on, she hinted that we had been more than friend.... She wrote that she would be visiting Paris in a few days, and she was hopeful that I could meet her there. I was fascinated! Who could this woman be? I assumed that she must have read some of my books, and fantasised that we had met. But then I came to a paragraph that said, ‘I’m certain that you will remember my sister, Contessa Juliette di. They have to. They have to know what they’re getting into being with me.”“Why?”“I’m ... good with women.”“You know how to pleasure them.”“That too.”“What else?”“We ... love each other. And that’s never about just sex.”“Something we grown-ups have to figure out.”“True. I guess I figured that out earlier than most.”“By having lots of sex.”“By cherishing them.” He showed her the pictures of Cheryl.“She’s adorable.”“I married her when I was eighteen. I was seeing her at the time,” he showed her. More

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