Dating a poor man

So why did I not run away as soon as I found out he was an egotistical maniac? Besides, he was a welcome relief from all the wimpy new men I had been dating.

'Pick you up at seven, gorgeous,' he said in a voice that was half East End slang, half Prince Charles plummy vowels. I wondered, - clickety-clackety in a pair of sparkly Gina mules bought specially for the occasion - Nobu or maybe a spot of dinner at Babington House.By the time I hobbled into the faux Art Deco foyer, there he was - Mr Tycoon, his face red with anger, spluttering at the poor doorman for being slow It got worse.Well it would, wouldn't it - how can you take a girl out to dinner when you are checking that the people at the next table are being served properly. While Heather Mills is not the sweetest girl on the planet, he did marry her, so why has he now had her credit cards stopped and her bodyguards taken away when the child is not with her.I remember once blowing out my oldest friend because Mr Rich called at the last minute and ordered me to come for a latenight supper. After I had nearly broken my neck running for a taxi, he arrived two hours late. He neither apologised nor said he would make it up to me, just waved an imperious hand and summoned the wine waiter.When he called the following morning, I simply told him I had found someone else, and went in search of a kindly beta male.

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